Roy sat on the edge of the bench in front of the lockers, pressing his fingertips hard again his closed eyes as if this action could stop the unwanted images of what Johnny might be going through from whirling in his wincing brain.
Sitting up straight, he surveyed the disheartened group. The men had made short work of picking up the contents of Johnny's locker and carefully placing them back inside much neater than they had been before. He inhaled deeply and felt his best friend's string of carved beads resting lightly in his shirt pocket. Chiding himself for spending time frozen in inaction, he stood with a slap on his knees. "Johnny is counting on us to help him."
"How are we supposed to do that when we don't know where he is?" This was from Mike as he walked slowly back and forth, fingering one last blue index card.
Roy was determined. "He wrote that note for us, no one else. He wouldn't give us a clue we couldn't figure out."
Marco had been sweeping the floor, the rhythmic swishing of the broom lulling Chet finally into silence. He stopped and leaned the broom up against the wall. "You're right, Roy. We have to do something."
"We're pretty sure we know what most of the note meant, but 'Key to AC'? Key to air conditioning? Air conditioning units don't need keys." Finished with the police, Capt. Stanley's long frame leaned against the doorframe.
"A lock needs a key," ventured Chet.
"Maps sometimes have keys," suggested Marco.
As Roy watched Mike absently flip the blue card, an idea struck him. "I think the answer has been staring me in the face this whole time. Johnny had been trying different ways to learn new medical terms, like word play and mnemonics. That's what the index cards were for. What if 'Key to AC' is one of those plays on words?"
"It sounds like something Gage would do," Chet said.
"You're the paramedic, Roy. What medical term would 'Key to AC' refer to?" Mike asked.
"'Key to'…might mean keytone," Roy guessed.
"What's that?" Marco asked.
"A keytone is a byproduct of fatty acids being broken down for energy by the liver and kidneys."
"That isn't helpful," Cap said with a rueful chuckle.
"Leave it to Gage to give us a clue that doesn't help at all," muttered Chet, disheartened again.
Roy's thoughts raced. "Let's go with keytone right now. If that's the case, then 'Key to AC' might have been Johnny's way of memorizing ketoacidosis. In diabetics, that's a condition that can occur when someone isn't producing enough insulin."
Mike shrugged. "How is that going to help us find him?"
"I don't know." Roy's blue eyes darkened. "But if Johnny is right, this guy must be presenting obvious symptoms. Ketoacidosis is really serious."
••••••••••
"I'm not a diabetic!" The killer's voice seemed to explode on the last word.
His heart pounding in time with his aching head, John persisted in spite of the fear coursing through his veins. "You're displaying all the symptoms of diabetic ketoacidosis. You have to let me help, you're sick."
The man shook his head. "How stupid do you think I am? Turn left up here."
"You have to get some insulin in your system. If you don't, you are going to die. Man, you have to believe me!" John tried to make eye contact with his captor in the rearview mirror, but the man stubbornly sat in profile. John did, however, see the gun still pointed straight at him.
"See the brick building? Pull into that alley," the man suddenly ordered.
John obeyed and brought the Rover to a stop in the narrow alley between two old office buildings. He frantically looked for someone, but the alley was empty.
"Get out with your hands up, fireman."
Johnny opened the door and got out with his trembling hands in the air. "Look, man, we can talk about this…"
The man was about three inches shorter than John, his face hidden in shadow. For a split second he thought about rushing the man, but the gun held him at bay. "Lay down in the back."
Johnny anxiously looked around, then with no other choice, he opened the back door and climbed in. He laid down on his right side and squeezed his eyes shut. Wondering if his life would flash before his eyes, John thought of Roy, Joanne, the guys at the station, Chris and Jenny. He thought of his parents and his aunt and the afterlife.
He wondered how much dying would hurt.
But no gunshot came. Instead he felt his captor lean over and bring something heavy down onto the back of his head.
••••••••••
Sonny placed the receiver back on the cradle. "APBs are in the works for Gage and his car."
"Would you mind sharing with me what you think is going on?" Vince asked.
"This is the kind of case that makes me want a smoke." Sonny closed the personnel file Cap had given him on John and drummed the desk with his fingers. "I remember when I was at the crime scene, we sent the firemen to wait in the parking lot below, right?"
Vince nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that's where Gage found the watch."
"There were a lot of onlookers down there, too, right?" Molino stared up at the ceiling. "The killer set the body on fire in a place that was hard to get to, hard to see. He didn't expect Bonita's remains to be found, at least not for a long time. But someone did see the fire and that messed up his plans. What if the killer hung around to see what would happen?"
"Are you saying the perp might have been down in that parking lot? He might have seen Gage find the watch." Vince considered the possibility thoughtfully. "That would explain a lot."
"Somehow he was able to get John's name and track him down. To me it looks like he kidnapped John and forced him to come here for the watch," Molino said.
"So this watch presumably will identify him. But do you have any suspects?"
"Here's what I know. Bonita Williams moonlighted at a rest home. One of her patients owns land out by Emerson Canyon where her body was found."
"That's too much of a coincidence."
"There's more. The old man said he wanted to leave his land to his daughter, but then as he was talking to me about it, he kept getting her mixed up with Bonita. And get this: When I was leaving, he asked if I knew where his watch was."
"Whoa. Could he be our guy?"
Sonny shook his head. "No. He's frail and has dementia. But I have contact info for his next of kin, a grandson, Michael. I'm thinking that we need to go pay him a visit right now."
"Want some back up?" Vince asked seriously.
A knock on the door interrupted them as Roy stuck his head in. "Detective? I think I may have the last part of the clue figured out."
"Come in, DeSoto." Vince waved him over. "Detective Molino, this is John Gage's partner, Roy DeSoto."
"Good to meet you," Sonny said. "What does 'Key to AC' mean?"
"I think it stands for ketoacidosis. It's a condition associated with diabetes."
Vince asked, "How would John have recognized it?"
"Some of the symptoms are obvious, like stomach pain, confusion, thirst, and breath that smells like fruit or nail polish remover."
Sonny put his hands on his hips. "DeSoto, what would Gage do if he thought his kidnapper had this keto…whatever?"
Roy thought for a few seconds. "He would probably try to convince him to go to a doctor or to let him help."
"Thanks, DeSoto. Here's my number. Call if anything else comes to mind."
Roy accepted the simple white business card. "Detective, can you tell me who you think has Johnny?"
Brown eyes regarded him, then dropped. "All I can tell you is that at this point we are doing all we can to find your partner."