“Five minutes, something like that,” she said. “Thank you for taking care of me. You’re Dr. Saint, right?”

“Yes,” he said. He studied her another moment, then announced, “You’re awake and you appear to be fine, Ms. Golden. I’m thinking I should spend more time in the nurse’s lounge concentrating on stealing Fig Newtons out of Nurse Joliett’s locker without getting caught. It seems to work miracles.”

“Do you know, I think I’d like a Fig Newton,” Kathryn said. Dr. Saint didn’t have a problem with that either, and luckily, Nurse Joliett didn’t mind sharing. “You don’t need both those IV lines anymore. We’ll free you from the one in your left wrist. You might find it easier to chow down on those Newtons.” Dr. Saint stood by her bed, fiddling with his handheld, an eyebrow arched at the two of them. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me you’re surprised Ms. Golden here suddenly woke up and wants to munch?”

“I suppose it was simply time for her to rejoin us,” Savich said easily. “I think I’d like a Fig Newton too.”

Dr. Saint started to tell Savich they really should leave now so his patient could rest, but something told him maybe he shouldn’t meddle. Sounding a bit ruffled, he said, “I understand you’re a psychic, Ms. Golden.”

She was chewing happily on a Fig Newton, and nodded at him. “That’s how I met Agent Savich last night, at a seance, actually.”

“Oh? Last night? I thought you’d been kidnapped yesterday afternoon. How—”

Savich raised his hand. “Be satisfied with your miracle, Dr. Saint.”

Dr. Saint looked from one to the other of them, but he didn’t say anything more. “All right then, I’ll leave you to it. Please, Agent Savich, if she tires, let her rest.” Before he left, he gave Sherlock another long look. Sherlock smiled, and waved him away.

Savich said, “Trust me on this, Kathryn. Makepeace won’t ever get near you again.”

She gave him a very long look, swallowed the rest of her Fig Newton, and nodded. “If you’re up to it, a few more questions.” At her nod, he continued. “I’d like you to back up, Kathryn, and tell me everything you remember that happened. Begin when Makepeace came into your house.”

He saw her shudder, and didn’t blame her. “I hate to think about it, not because I was so terrified, but because I was helpless. I’ve always hated being helpless.

“He hit me on the head with the butt of a gun. When I woke up, I was tied to a chair in a closet, his clothes all around me. I had no idea where I was but I knew it had to be that man trying to kill Julia. But I couldn’t figure out how he even knew who I was. Did he follow Julia and Cheney to my house?”

“No. As Cheney was trying to tell you, the media had you on TV special reports for a couple of hours, announced that you were assisting the police, how your ‘vision’ had helped save Cheney’s life.”

“Maybe we could hire him to attack the media instead of me.”

Savich grinned. “What happened?”

“I felt you then, and I managed to form a blurry picture of you in my mind. We’d only begun speaking when Makepeace opened the closet door and dragged me out. He let me go to the bathroom, and he let me eat a slice of toast, said it was left over and he didn’t have a dog. He frightened me. I could feel the frustration and rage pouring off him. But you know, he was whistling the whole time.

“He asked me where Julia was. I told him I had no idea, how could I? And he said since I was a psychic, since I was helping the police, even had a vision for Cheney Stone and Julia Ransom, why then, I could tell him where they were now, couldn’t I? He wanted a vision from me. And that was why he took me in the first place.”

Savich said, “Maybe, but I think that his big motive was to get you out of the game. And he had a use for you with that bomb.”

“Yes, that makes sense. Well, I told him I couldn’t simply do a vision on command. He hit me a couple of times, then he forced me back into the closet. He didn’t let me out until this morning. I tried and tried to contact you, Dillon, but there was just nothing.

“When he brought me out of that hideous closet this morning, he asked me again to tell him where Julia was. I told him I saw her at her house in Pacific Heights, with Cheney guarding her. He seemed pleased. He grinned at me, patted my face, and left, whistling.

“It took me a moment to realize he hadn’t locked me back in the closet. I tried and tried to get loose, but he’d tied me too tight. And I tried again to reach you, Dillon, but you weren’t there.