Tail Spin

and looked up at the high-beamed ceiling that she couldn’t see in the dark, and wondered how she was going to prove Jimmy’s brother and sister murdered him before they added her scalp to their belts.
    She wanted more than anything in the world to make them pay. She’d had only six weeks with Jimmy because of them. Talk about miracles, Jimmy had been the biggest miracle in her life, and he was taken from her. After so little time. She fell asleep thinking that Jack was a pretty nice miracle himself.

SEVENTEEN
    Washington Memorial Hospital Washington, D.C.
    Tuesday morning
    Chief of Neurological Services Dr. Connor Bingham said to Savich and Sherlock, “Dr. MacLean regained consciousness an hour ago. He was in considerable pain from the broken ribs and the cut in his chest, so he’s medicated, a bit on the drowsy side. Maybe all the physical stimulation, the noise and activity of the helicopter ride, helped speed his awakening. But he is by no means a normal man, as you’ll see. With his dementia, he’ll never be.
    “When you speak to him, keep it short. If you have questions afterwards, I’m available.”
    As a matter of course, Savich and Sherlock showed their IDs to the agent posted outside Dr. MacLean’s room, even though they knew one another.
    Agent Tom Tomlin was tall and rangy, his dark eyes alight at the sight of Sherlock as he said, those eyes of his never leaving her face, “Agent Sherlock, my mom sent me a photo from the San Francisco Chronicle.” He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out his wallet, andunfolded the newspaper clipping. “See, here you are standing in front of a burning house, your face blacker than mine, your clothes torn anddirty, and I can tell you’re wearing a Kevlar vest. My mom told me to ask you out. She was really bummed when I told her you were married.” He beamed at her.
    Her father had sent her the same photo. Sherlock grinned. “It took forever to get all the black smoke off. And the smell. It’s still like a faint perfume.”
    Savich gave Agent Tomlin a terrifying smile before taking Sherlock’s hand and leading her into Dr. MacLean’s room.
    Dr. MacLean moaned. They moved to stand on either side of his bed, staring down at gray eyes darkened with confusion.
    “Dr. MacLean?” Sherlock waited until the gray eyes focused on her face. “I’m Agent Sherlock and this is Agent Savich. We’re FBI. We work with Jack Crowne. Don’t worry about a thing. You’re safe. You’re protected. We won’t let anyone hurt you.”
    The gray eyes, a bit blurred, blinked at them. “You’re friends of Jackson’s? I want him to marry my daughter, you know, but my wife thinks he’s too old for her. She’s a freshman at Columbia this fall.”
    “He might make a better uncle,” Savich said. “Remember, that’s about the same number of years that separated Prince Charles and Diana. Look what came of that.”
    “Maybe so. Oh my, I never had such great drugs, even back in college. I feel like flying right off this rock-hard excuse for a bed and out that window, maybe buzz the White House. Is the weather nice?”
    “Yes, bright sunshine, and it might hit eighty-five today.”
    “I have a real good friend who’s a pharmacist and a killer at bridge. After I buzz over his house in Chevy Chase, hopefully ruin the bridge hand he’s playing, I think I’ll fly clear to the West Coast. I don’t want to go back to Lexington—my family are a bunch of nags and doomsayers. And my wife Molly—I tried to make her listen to reason, but she’s got her own rules for reason and won’t listen to mine. Molly kept pushing me until we were on a plane back to Lexington. And then I had to come back here again—but wait now. What kind of sense does that make? Oh, I remember. There was a plane wreck— Jackson was piloting. Is he all right?”
    Savich saw his sudden alarm and said, “Jack is fine now, just headaches from the concussion and some pain from a gash in his leg.”
    “Good, good, he’s okay then. I’ll tell you, even with these excellent pain meds, I still feel like I’m hurting all over.”
    “Understandable. You got thrown around quite a bit. There was a bomb on board the Cessna, but Jack managed to bring it down in a narrow valley. He pulled you out before the plane exploded. You are hurt all over, sir.”
    Sherlock said, “Dr. MacLean, we need to ask you some questions, to try to get a better handle on all of this.”
    MacLean closed his eyes, appeared to go