The Serpent's Kiss

87

Jill and Derek screamed along northbound I-75, Jill swerving in and out of traffic. The right two lanes were bumper to bumper, traffic jamming up at The Palace exit at Lapeer Road. Jill stayed in the left two lanes, racing past the cars on her right. Off to their left Derek glimpsed a white dome. “Is that it?”

“No. That’s the Pontiac Silverdome.”

Derek set aside his tablet PC away and dragged one of his GO Packs into his lap and began to rummage through it. He drew out an extra clip of ammunition for his gun, the first aid kit and the atropine injector. Dropping them into various pockets, he pulled out a small book, opened it and held up a photograph to the interior light.

Jill, concentrating on her driving, glanced over. “What’s that?”

He held it so she could see. “My ex-wife.”

“Pretty.”

Derek nodded. “She’s a doctor in Texas now. Our marriage couldn’t survive our careers.” His hand crept to the chain around his neck, the one with the St. Sebastian’s medal, the ju-ju beads and the rabbit’s foot. Was he superstitious? No, not really. But he believed in luck, good and bad. He had been very lucky today. He hoped his luck would hold.

“Hang on,” Jill said, and pressed the gas and jerked right, fist slamming down on the horn. With a roar she ripped across traffic, cut off a pickup truck and blasted onto the looping ramp to Lapeer Road and The Palace of Auburn Hills. There was the screech of tires and wail of horns as she raced along.

Ahead of them was a cutaway entrance to the south Palace parking lot. It was blocked by an Oakland County Sheriff’s patrol car, lights flashing. Jill spun onto the cutaway and pulled up to the sheriff’s deputy, who stood next to his car. She rolled down her window and held out her identification. “We’ve got an emergency situation. We need to get in. Right now.”

The deputy was a young guy with dark curly hair and a thick mustache. “Yes, ma’am. Go right ahead.”

He moved a pylon aside and Jill sped past. Derek took one last look at the photograph and slipped it back into the book, laying it carefully back into his GO Pack.

Jill rocketed past the parking attendants, skidding to a halt in front of the closest entrance. She killed the engine and jumped out of the car. Derek clambered out, messing with his crutch. Jill was on her phone, punching in her son’s cell number.

“Michael. We’re at the South Entrance. Where are you?”

A sheriff’s deputy approached. “You can’t park there,” she said. “Sir, you can’t park there.”

Derek turned and flashed his own identification. He waved at Jill. “This is Agent Church, with the FBI. Have they contacted you yet?”

“Who?”

“The FBI.”

“No, sir. What’s this all about?” Her blue eyes were inquisitive, her pale skin flushed from the cool temperature. She was a tall, broad-shouldered woman with strong-looking hands.

Derek shook his head. Figured. You couldn’t count on Gray at all. He quickly outlined the situation for the deputy. He held up the tablet PC and showed her the image of Kevin Matsumoto. “We’ve got to find him before eight o’clock. And we’ve got to do it without him knowing it. We can’t spook him.”

The cop frowned. “Maybe we can coordinate with security.”

“Good.”

He turned to Jill, who was listening closely to whatever Michael was saying to her. To Derek she said, “Go on. I’m going to hook up with Michael.”

Derek paused. “He’ll be all right.”

Jill’s face looked wan and tired. She nodded. “Let’s go, Derek. Keep your line open.”

“Got it.” He turned and followed the deputy into the building. Jill returned to her car and drove off, heading to the opposite side of The Palace.