Detective Dick gave me clear directions. They proved unnecessary as a patrol car caught up with me and escorted me the last mile. I was a nervous wreck as we pulled up to a large vehicle that operated as some sort of command center. The entire area was swarming with people in all manners of attire from combat ready armament to business suits to uniformed police. The only person I recognized was the black FBI woman from our earlier meeting. She stood across the parking lot, talking to three suited men. I asked about detective Dick and was told to wait outside. I asked where the house in question was located and was told it was several blocks away and this was a staging area. It was ten minutes before Dick emerged, looking harried, but no more so than I.
"The wanted to conduct the raid while it was still dark but there was a problem with the search warrant. Now that it's light, the federal boys who are running this show are back to the drawing board." Someone waved him back inside the command trailer. Another ten minutes passed before I was him again. He came down the steps amid a flurry of activity.
"It's not looking good. Heat sensors haven't located any body heat unless they're below ground level. We'll know soon. We're going in."
After more gut wrenching waiting the word came in. The house was empty.
Until that point, eminent success lay just around the corner; now, absent any leads, a wave of despair descended over me like a blanket of morning fog. I almost dreaded returning to the motel where awaited what I saw as the last thread of hope.
After several wrong turns I pulled into the parking lot of the Pacific Crest Inn. I was surprised to notice the vehicle lent to Howie was no longer parked in front of his door. I assumed he'd been called to the hospital. My heart fell, knowing the session I'd left behind was over and with it, our final attempt to locate Grasso's hide away. I considered going to the hospital myself until I entered my room. Glancing through the open door of the adjoining room where I'd left Howie, I found it not only empty, but absent of Quinn's equipment as well! Only Quinn's notes, a few articles of discarded clothing and the recorder remained.
With a sinking feeling my call would be fruitless, I called the hospital. No, there was no change in Julie's condition nor was Howie there. I immediately telephoned Detective Dick and relayed the news that Howie was missing. The detective seemed unconvinced until I told him John Luke Grasso wanted something from my friend and he might have contacted him. I knew Dick wanted more information but he must have received word from above to not ask questions.