“Shit,” Lennon said.
“I’m sorry, there’s no one else,” Gordon said.
“I’d rather stay here.”
“Nobody knows where ‘here’ is,” Gordon said. “You won’t even tell me, so how could anybody else know? Look, I need an officer of your experience on scene for the search. The hotel management are waiting. The only other officer I could send in is Dan Hewitt.”
“No,” Lennon said. “I’ll do it. I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“Good lad,” Gordon said.
Lennon went into the living room and sat down on the couch beside Marie. Ellen dozed in her lap as late-night music videos played silently on Roscoe’s huge television. “I’ve been called away,” he said. “But I’ll stay if you want me to.”
“Go,” Marie said. “I don’t need a guard dog.”
“You’ll be safe,” Lennon said. “Roscoe has this place done up like Fort Knox. The door’s got two locks and a chain. It’s rock solid. Besides, no one knows you’re here.”
“That Roscoe knows,” she said.
“I trust him.”
“I don’t,” Marie said.
Lennon took the Glock from its holster. He held it out to her. “Here.”
Marie stared at the gun. “No,” she said.
“Take it,” he said. “It’ll make you feel better.”
“I very much doubt that,” she said.
“It’ll make me feel better.”
“I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”
“It’s easy,” Lennon said. “You just pull this back to chamber a round. Then you point it and pull the trigger.”
“I don’t want it,” Marie said.
“Take it.” He held it in front of her. When she didn’t take it, he stood and crossed the room. He reached up and placed it on a shelf, too high for Ellen to reach. “It’s there if you need it,” he said. “But you won’t.”
Marie didn’t answer, just watched him from the couch as she rocked their sleeping daughter.
“I’ll be an hour, two at most,” he said. “I’ll be back. I promise.”