Between the patrol cars and the building, a dark-colored sedan sat with the corner of its front bumper against the wall of the building. The car’s headlights were still burning, slicing into the darkness to illuminate a small section of the structure’s brick face. At the moment, it seemed to be the primary focus of the officers’ attention.
Across the bottom of the tube, a stylized graphic cut a colorful streak; culminating on the left in the station logo. Words were emblazoned across the stripe, spelling out in slanted block letters, BREAKING NEWS.
I felt Felicity next to me as she slipped her arm in around my own then interlaced her fingers with mine and squeezed. Her other hand slipped across and closed in an unrelenting grip on my bicep.
With my free hand, I clicked the volume back up a notch as we both stared at the event playing out on the screen.
“…Shortly after six this evening,” the reporter’s voice-over faded in as I continued to mash the button and brought the sound up to a more discernible level. “An apparent car-jacking led to a high-speed chase which involved officers from five separate municipalities, as well as the Missouri Highway Patrol, Saint Louis County, and the Metropolitan Saint Louis Police department.”
“Car-jacking my ass,” Ben muttered from behind us.
“The chase began in the county near the Interstate Two-Seventy, Highway Forty interchange and proceeded through several neighborhood streets before continuing on eastbound Forty at a…”
“They’ve got the bastard cornered,” Ben spoke again, louder this time.
“Ssshh!” Felicity urged.
“…Sideswiped another vehicle, injuring the driver, before exiting Hampton to Highway Forty-Four. Metropolitan police attempted to stop the car as it exited at the riverfront on Memorial Drive. The suspect then literally crashed through a construction barrier at Third Street and Washington, narrowly missing pedestrians who were crossing the street on their way to Laclede’s Landing.
“The chase finally ended here at this abandoned warehouse on Second Street where the suspect fled the vehicle with a woman who is believed to be a hostage, and they are currently inside the building.”
“There are two agents on the scene,” Mandalay offered into the lull that followed the reporter’s words. “Porter is definitely inside, and he has Sullivan with him.”
“He won’t go down without killing her first,” I said.
“They know that,” she replied. “That’s why no one has entered the building yet.”
“Osthoff just told me they have a SWAT entry team standing by,” Ben told us. “They should be rolling any minute.
“I’ve been in there,” he added. “It’s at Second and Ashley. Back when I was in uniform, I chased this little prick into it after he had tried to break into a place a coupla’ blocks over on Broadway.” He shook his head and noisily sucked on his teeth as he pondered the screen. “There’s a whole lotta places to hide in there. And in the dark on top of it? Shit…”
Ben’s cell phone pealed, and he turned it up in his hand to inspect the display. With a disgusted grunt, he stabbed the device with his thumb then placed it against his ear. “Yeah, this is Storm. What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”
The languid pace of the drama on the television screen prompted the station to cut from the scene and back to the studio. The transition was a sudden switch to a groomed man behind the news desk who was staring at an angle off camera as he began speaking.
“We will now return you to network programming…” The reporter did a quick double-take motion with his head and then suddenly shifted a quarter turn toward the live camera with only a slight stutter.
I ignored the segue back to the sitcom and focused my attention on the side of Ben’s conversation that I could hear.
“Yeah, we’ve got it on the TV right now,” he said into the phone then waited.
Constance, Felicity, and I watched him as he frowned and rocked in place. He brought his free hand up to smooth back his hair, winced, shot it a disgusted look, and then went ahead with the mannerism anyway.
“Yeah, well I don’t really think you can blame Rowan for you bargin’ in here,” he said with a note of irritation. “You wasted your own time, Lieutenant, not him.
“Uh-huh…Yeah…Uh-huh… Well, trust me, we weren’t plannin’ on goin’ anywhere at the moment anyway, so I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about.”
“That woman is a real piece of work,” Mandalay muttered.
“Aye, I was thinking more like she’s an òinnseach,” Felicity remarked.
“What’s that?”
“An idiot.”
Mandalay smirked at the insult. “I’ll agree with you there.”
“Yeah, well, you can…” Ben barked suddenly and then paused for a moment to regain his composure before continuing in a restrained tone. “Yeah, well you’ll just have to tell him that yourself. Yeah. Fine.”
My friend ended the call without ceremony and then terminated the connection with a pair of clumsy thrusts from his thumb against the keypad. He looked up at us while shaking his head in an animated arc. “Jeezus H. Christ on roller skates!”
“What did she say?” Mandalay asked him, then added, “Like we can’t guess.”
“Well,” he huffed. “She started out by blaming Row for her wasting time here, but I guess you prob’ly caught that. Other than that, she told me she’s en-route to the scene and has officially ordered us to stay put until we hear from her.”
“What are you supposed to tell me?” I asked.
“Let’s not go there, white man.”
“Ben…”
“Just the same shit, Row,” he growled. “She’s all about saying that you’re responsible for whatever happens to Sullivan.”
“Well,” I returned, “I am.”
“Look, Row,” he said. “What I was saying earlier, forget it. You went with your gut, and you kept him on the line long enough to peg a location. You made the right call, and you aren’t responsible for what this wingnut does.”
“I won’t argue it with you, Ben,” I answered. “I know what I have to own up to in the end.”
“You won’t have to,” Constance offered. “It won’t hold up in court. There’s no way.”
“That’s not where I will have to face it. Anything you do comes back to you,” I told them, then recited a snippet of the Wiccan Rede as explanation. “Mind the threefold law ye should, three times bad and three times good.”
“Aye,” Felicity spoke up. “Don’t you start quoting like Eldon Porter now. The law of three would not apply here.”
“I won’t debate it with you, either,” I told her gently. “I deliberately antagonized him, and I just might have made the wrong choice.”
“Stop second guessing yourself, Rowan,” Ben instructed. “Albright’s wrong. That’s all there is to it. End of story.”
“That remains to be seen.”
“Ain’t no remains to be nothin’,” he spat. “She’s wrong, so drop it.”
Across the room, the bell on the telephone sprang to life, jangling out an angry-sounding demand to be answered. We all froze, staring at one another with shared trepidation. I started to move toward the kitchenette just as the ringer belted out its noise for the third time.
Behind me, Mandalay’s cell phone began to chirp. By the time I brought my fingers to rest on the handset in the kitchen, Ben’s phone had added itself to the fray, forming a discordant trio of chaotic tunes.
CHAPTER 28:
My stomach was starting to churn as I lifted the receiver and placed it against the side of my head. Bouncing around inside my skull was a desperate fear that I was about to become wholly responsible for Eldon Porter taking the life of a young woman who was associated with me by only tenuous threads at best. The concept of guilt by association was abhorrent enough, but this was virtually a case of guilt by future association.
It didn’t matter how much reassurance I was given by Ben and Constance; the fact remained,
in my mind I would hold myself accountable. I would experience a threefold return for my actions; there was no doubt. It was a foregone conclusion. And, I knew that if nothing else, it would be self-imposed. If it came to that, the payback would be harsh, and worst of all, inescapable.
My brain tabbed through the possible greetings, both appropriate and not—several of which I desperately wanted to snarl. I wanted to scream each of them at Porter in unending succession, backed with every thread of anger I could muster; anger was something I had in abundance right now.
However, at the same time the fire raged inside me, I was fully aware that even a single one of the phrases might possibly seal Star’s fate the moment it was uttered. I simply didn’t know what would push him over into the red zone, and I didn’t want to find out. I forced myself to draw in a deep breath and search once again for center.
I don’t know how long I actually stood there with the handset to my ear, staring off into space, completely mute. What I do know is that the pause was long enough for my choice of greetings to become inconsequential. As a fleeting moment of calm passed before me, I reached out for it and made a desperate grab.
My shoulders involuntarily relaxed as the person on the other end of the line spoke.
“Hello?” A confused, feminine voice flowed into my ear. “Anyone there? Rowan? Felicity?”
“Yeah, Cally,” I answered with a slow sigh. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine, Cally,” I told her. “Listen…”
“Do you have the TV on?” She began her excited query before I could finish. “They’ve got someone trapped in a warehouse. It’s on all the stations. Is that him?”
“Calm down, Cally,” I told her. “I know. We’ve been watching. And yes, it’s him. So, listen…”
“I knew it!” she exclaimed, barreling over me once again. “I could feel it. I told everyone here that it had to be him.”
“Cally…” I started again.
She didn’t allow me to get more than a single word in. “He’s got a hostage. Do they know who it is? What are they going to do?”
“CALLY!” I stated her name with a closely guarded firmness. “Slow down. Now be quiet and listen to me.”
She fell silent for a fleeting moment and then spoke again in a meek tone that carried with it an overtone of worry, “Rowan, what’s wrong?”
“Rowan, that was the field office,” Mandalay’s voice came at me.
I looked at her, and she gave a curt nod to the phone in my hand. “Porter is on Sullivan’s cell, and he’s trying to get through on this line right now.”
“Rowan? Rowan? What’s wrong?” Cally’s voice insisted in my ear.
I nodded back to Mandalay and then spoke quickly into the phone. “Cally, listen, I have to go.”
“Rowan,” her voice took on a desperate whine. “What’s wrong? Oh Gods! He doesn’t have Felicity, does he? He called her today…”
“CALLY!” I barked again, all at once struggling with impatience at the situation and sympathy for her turmoil. “Listen to me. He DOES NOT have Felicity. She’s okay, but I have to go. I’ll explain later.”
I could hear her crying my name as I dropped the handset back into the cradle.
I shot a quick glance over to Felicity, and she gave me an understanding nod. “Aye, I’ll call her on my cell.”
The telephone on the wall had pipped out a half ring the moment it hit the base and was already jangling its first full measure as my wife spoke. I closed my eyes and dropped my chin to my chest, drawing in a cleansing breath and forcing myself to blow it out slowly through my mouth.
“Rowan…” Mandalay appealed as the phone gave a second full ring.
I opened my eyes and looked up, giving her a shallow nod of acknowledgement as our eyes met. I could literally feel Eldon Porter on the other end of the phone even though I had not yet answered it; even the sound of the ring was different, angry and more urgent. This time it was the real thing, and I knew I had no choice but to play this out on his terms even though I had no idea what they were.
My hand had never left the telephone, so I slipped it back out of the base in one smooth motion. As the mouthpiece came near my lips, I spoke in the calmest voice I could evoke, “Hello, Eldon.”
“You haven’t won, Gant, you know that, don’t you?” He spat the question tersely.
I could hear rustling noises coming over the phone as he apparently moved about within the confines of the building. I could only imagine what it was like—dark, cold, and no visible escape. Even for someone as insane as he, desperation had to be oozing from every pore.
I didn’t feel sorry for him in the least, but I did fear the dangerous edge the panic would bring forth.
He was breathing hard, huffing shallow breaths out, and wheezing them back in at an alarming rate. The situation had the potential to turn sour in a heartbeat.
“I know, Eldon,” I told him. “You’re right, I haven’t won.”
“Don’t patronize me, Gant!” he screamed. “Your sorcerers’ tricks won’t work this time! You just got lucky, that’s all!”
“Okay, okay,” I said as a shiver traced itself up my spine. “Let’s work this out, Eldon.”
I carefully covered the mouthpiece with my free hand and looked at Constance. “He’s really edgy,” I said. “Nothing like he was earlier. He’s losing control really fast.”
She twisted her cell phone away from her mouth. “I know. They’ve got it patched in, and I’m listening. Look, Rowan, we’re working on something…”
“What?”
“Just keep him talking,” she instructed. “You’re doing fine.”
“Who were you talking to?!” Porter demanded in my ear.
I stiffened, feeling as though I had just been caught in the middle of some heinous act. I pulled my hand away from the mouthpiece and spoke. “I wasn’t talking to anyone.”
“When I called! I couldn’t get through! You had to be talking to somebody!”
I relaxed but not much. “That was just someone calling to check on me, Eldon.”
“One of your minions, I’m sure,” he retorted.
“You’re right, Eldon.” I agreed with him out of desperation.
“Damn you, Gant!” he shouted. “I told you not to patronize me!”
“Calm down, Eldon, we need to…”
“Stop telling me to calm down! Do you hear me?! Stop it, stop it, stop it!”
I pulled the handset away from my ear as he screamed. His voice buzzed in the earpiece, achieving a state of frantic distortion as he repeated the order.
I watched Constance as she glanced to the side and gave a nod. I could hear Ben whispering around the corner of the doorway and assumed that he was conferring with her. About what, I didn’t know, but I didn’t have time to speculate. She had told me they were working on something, so I had to trust them.
I tried to adopt a generic voice. “Okay, Eldon, I’m not trying to be patronizing to you. I’m sorry if that is how it sounded.”
“What is wrong with you, Gant?” he demanded.
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“There’s something wrong with you,” he replied. “There’s something wrong with you!”
“Tell me what you mean, Eldon,” I pressed.
“You aren’t the same,” he answered me, his voice shaking with yet unreleased anger. “You… You aren’t the same as when I talked to you before.”
“I’m the same, Eldon,” I told him.
“It’s a trick! You’re trying to trick me again!” His voice jumped a notch in volume as he fired the accusation at me. “I told you it won’t work, Gant. It won’t work, Satan! Do you hear me?! It won’t work!”
The calm insanity I had always associated with him was gone. He was now coming across as someone with one foot tenuously planted in reality but ravaged by unimaginable delusions. He was escalating beyond anything I had imagined, and I was rapidly losing fai
th in my ability to contain this.
My mind raced as I tried to formulate a response that wouldn’t push him any further than I had already managed. Agreeing with him definitely wasn’t the way to go. Trying to stick to the middle of the road wasn’t any better. It seemed the only thing that had kept him on an even keel thus far was when he felt like he had pushed my buttons. He was at his calmest when he had my ire raised.
I swallowed hard and started to open the stopcock on the mental valve that was presently holding back my anger. I figured I would start small. Let some of it creep into my voice and see what his reaction was. On the chance that it worked, I would take it a little further. If he wanted me to let loose on him, I would be more than happy to oblige.
I glanced up and saw that Constance was looking off to the side and nodding vigorously as she motioned to me. I could hear her saying something into her phone, but I couldn’t make out exactly what it was. Ben was apparently still just around the corner, because his urgent voice hit my unblocked ear. His words were much easier to understand.
In a quiet voice, he was telling someone, “He looks okay, so go now.”
Before I could put my hastily formed plan into motion, Porter began to scream into the phone, forcing me to pull the handset away yet again.
“TELL THEM TO STOP, GANT!” His distorted voice arced several inches from the earpiece as I held the phone away from my head. “YOU BASTARD, I KNOW THEY ARE MOVING! TELL THEM TO STOP, OR I’LL KILL HER NOW!”
“No! Eldon! Listen to me!” I blurted.
Constance was shaking her head and waving. I could hear the frenzy in Ben’s tone as he asked, “Did they catch that?!”
She didn’t respond quickly enough for him.
“Mandalay!” his voice jumped. “Did they hear that?!”
“I don’t know!” she shot back with her own thread of panic. “I lost the signal!”
“Abort!” Ben immediately bellowed, presumably into his phone. “He made you! Abort!”
Throughout the tangle of frenzied voices, I could still hear Eldon screaming at me, as well as my own pleas for him to listen.
The Law Of Three: A Rowan Gant Investigation Page 23