“The category of ‘I can be grateful if I still have a job.’” Vivien groaned, sinking into the closest desk chair. “I can’t believe I did that, but I couldn’t stand her any longer. She, her kind, is so much responsible for the problem.”
“I know,” Hilary said softly. There were situations and contexts in which money was of little relevance—they’d be judged for their lives and choices as women in the first place. Vivien’s takedown of the congresswoman might not have been the smartest move, but Hilary had to admit it felt good to hear someone speak the naked truth. Terrible things happened to women all over the world, all too often because of the ignorance and entitlement of men, but not just men. Women who believed in and helped sustain patriarchy, for a questionable personal gain, were just as responsible. Of course, if you called them out on it, they’d call you sexist. The boys’ club held them up as a shiny example that all was right in the world and women couldn’t care less about being treated equal.
Congresswoman Emily Camden wasn’t shy about touting her views—a ban on gay marriage, because marriage was between one man and one woman, with the purpose of procreation—regardless of straight couples who couldn’t have children, decided not to have any, or were beyond the procreating age. Abortion only if the life of the mother was in danger. Vivien had worked with rape victims, and for sure, the congresswoman’s callous dismissal had to make her angry. Regardless of the story, neither Miller nor Camden should have a say.
Hilary had a different, visceral reaction, retreating into a cloud of numbness. If she was looking at those subjects too closely, something might break, and she couldn’t afford to let that happen, or let it get in the way of her passion for the project they were all working on so hard.
“I know exactly how you feel. Why is it so hard for some women to take a firm stand for other women? It frustrates me to no end, and we’re not even talking about the women-against-feminism BS on the internet. What would it take to make them understand the reality of patriarchy, and what it does in their lives, what comforts feminism brought them they’re not even aware of? Sometimes I wonder if we can ever make it work, have women agree on enough of a common denominator to move forward, or why some think that living in the past is not as frightening as making progress. I wonder why people get so offended by jokes and caricatures that they take to the streets to express their anger, yet women, all over the world, get insulted and mocked all the time. We shrug it off and go on. Maybe we’re not angry enough yet. Maybe you did exactly what you should have done.”
Vivien wasn’t hopeful. “It won’t make a difference, not to her.”
“One day it might. We have to keep trying. That’s the whole deal here, isn’t it?”
The door opened before Vivien could answer, and Dana stepped inside, looking serious.
“I know I was out of line. I’m sorry.”
“That’s not it, Vivien, well, I agree you were out of line, but we’ll deal with that later. I just got a call…I think you need to see this.”
Hilary braced herself as she saw another Breaking News banner on the TV screen in the other room, but like Vivien, she didn’t understand right away. The woman behind the microphone was in her late twenties, looking chagrined as if she’d rather be anywhere else.
“I was just out of the academy,” she said. “Kerry Rivers was my training officer. I looked up to her. I wanted to be like her…I could have never imagined…”
The door sprang open, and Lee walked inside. “The congresswoman’s gone already? What did I miss?” Her eyes widened when everyone shushed her, and on the screen, the woman went on, alleging the impossible.
“I kept silent about this all those years, because I was embarrassed. I might not have been entirely blameless, but there is no doubt, it was abuse of power. If you want to leave everything behind and associate yourself with these people, you should know what they are all about.”
Hilary saw the shocked disbelief on Vivien’s face, wishing she could help beyond a friend’s presence and reassurance. Truth be told, stories like this one, and the guy who claimed working for Greene Industries had been hell, were to be expected. Their opponents were organized, and of course they were not above fighting dirty, never had been.
“She’s lying,” Vivien said.
“I know she is.” Dana shrugged. “Doesn’t mean it helps our case in any way.”
“I don’t care. We’re going to sue her.”
“People will always lie and fabricate stories,” Hilary felt the need to intervene. “We have to keep moving anyway, learn to ignore them. I don’t think she has any intention of going to court. It’s just one of those distractions people come up with to muddy what’s the real issue.” She wasn’t sure if this was enough to divert the attention, but for sure, she was going to try. All else, Vivien and Kerry had to figure out for themselves. Since Vivien was obviously blindsided, Hilary didn’t think she should be the one to make revelations. She remembered Susan Wells, bad timing, a horrible case she knew little about, Kerry being confused and off balance enough to step over that line.
Of course, it had been nothing like what Wells was alleging, but it hadn’t been pretty either, especially when the young rookie had hoped for more than company in a tough workday’s misery. As far as Hilary knew, Kerry and Susan hadn’t spoken since Susan left the department.
“God, I hate people,” Vivien said with conviction. “I can’t wait until we’re gone from here. This is a nightmare.” She picked up her cell phone, punching in the numbers. “What a moment to have your calls go to voicemail. Damn it, Kerry.”
“You’ll talk later. In the meantime, we have to finish up here, okay? I’ll have another meeting in an hour.”
“Sure.” Vivien cast another reproachful look at the woman on the screen. “You have no idea what you’re in for, Susan Wells.”
“Well, we do,” Dana observed. “Vivien, I understand your frustration, but you didn’t have to unleash all of it on the congresswoman. We need to keep an open door—even to her. You never know.”
Vivien nodded, but Hilary could tell she had other things on her mind. Hilary herself had almost forgotten the promise she’d made to Marc to talk later. Remembering it made her stomach churn a bit—however, as long as they were honest with each other, who could ever come between them?
* * * *
Kerry rode the elevator up to the highest floor, hoping to catch either Marc or Hilary to quickly secure Tasha and Ethan’s place in Exodus. She wouldn’t make the mistake of waiting too long again. At this moment, she had no idea that she was the center of a Breaking News story, or that she would be in the middle of another one in a matter of minutes. All Kerry envisioned for the rest of her day was a quiet moment with Vivien to approach a difficult subject.
In the reception area, she met Aimee Hendricks, one of the managers she had exchanged a few words before. “Hi. Do you know if Mr. Greene is in? I was hoping I could speak to him for a moment.”
“He was on the phone when I left,” Aimee said. “Have Martha check for you,” she gestured to the receptionist who picked up her phone and gave the all clear a moment later.
“Hey,” Marc said when she entered his office. “Is it naïve to think you just dropped by for a coffee? Please don’t tell me this day is going to get any crazier.”
Kerry chuckled. “I hope not. I need you to set things in motion for someone we know. He’s a vet, came home to find his pregnant wife has been arrested for having an anxiety attack. Tasha is a friend of ours. Ethan could work in security, but he has a degree in engineering too. I have their forms here.”
“Sure, I’ll take care of it.” Marc gave her an intent look. “How are things on the job, otherwise?”
“So so.” Kerry shook her head. “It’s not because of that. I’m aware that we can’t bring everyone who is in danger in their state or country. Where would we draw the line? Tasha and Ethan could be helpful. Most of all, she needs her anxiety meds that the doctor is banned from prescribin
g, even though she was fine with the first baby. They can pay their way there, that’s not a problem.”
“Hilary and Aimee will work on transportation later today. I’ll make sure this goes into the files.
“Thank you. I need something to go well today.”
“I hear you. We can—”
The sound and subsequent screams put a halt to his words. Kerry knew what that sound was, but she’d never expected to hear it today, in the modern glass and steel tower where the offices of Greene Industries headquarters were located. It came a second time, followed by more screams.
“You stay here,” she said, reaching for her phone. Kerry heard her own voice, cool and detached, relating what little she knew about the events unfolding in the past few seconds to dispatch. She could see Marc flinch at “shots fired.” “Get down behind that desk, okay?”
“What about you? You should stay inside too. Security will take care of this—Kerry!”
She held up her hand before she joined him in the dubious shelter behind the desk, not wanting to tell him that the glass door of the office wasn’t such good protection in the first place. She had to follow protocol, wait for backup. Those shots had sounded too damn close. Kerry thought of Aimee and Marta. Had they managed to get out of the line of fire? Was anyone hurt?
Both of them froze when they hurt the sound of footstep walking closer, others, retreating in a hectic staccato.
“I know you’re in there,” a man yelled. “Get out, you coward!”
“Whatever you want, we can talk about it. No one has to get hurt!”
Kerry shook her head at Marc. No doubt he was used to being the one in charge, but at this moment, she didn’t want him involved at all, not with the shooter right in front of the door, about to barge in any moment.
Then he did. “You’re taking my family away from me, and you can’t even look me in the eye!”
“I’m here. Let’s talk. No one’s going to take your family away.”
“You’re lying. I know you are. You—”
“We don’t force anyone,” Marc said behind her. “You, your family, everyone is free to come or stay.”
For a moment, it looked like the man in his early thirties was actually listening, then he shook his head. “No. No, I don’t believe you.”
Kerry had her hand on her own weapon, and when the intruder raised his, his finger tightening on the trigger, she took the shot. Another shot rang out.
Chapter Sixteen
Vivien felt as if her mind had taken the last protective measure possible—pretending that everything that happened from now on wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. She had been confronted with hate on so many levels, in her job, in her private life, and always come out with her beliefs intact. If people showed an open heart and mind, continue the conversation. If they are unwilling to do so, at some point, walk away.
She couldn’t walk away from the room, the TV, the gut-punch feeling that was robbing her of breath. Of course, Kerry had other relationships before her. She never doubted that, and she hadn’t asked much. Why would she? They were happy. They had shared their lives for over a decade, made commitments. They wanted a family. Wells was obviously lying, bought by the people who still thought that they could stop Exodus with outrageous false accusations—though none of this mattered at the moment.
Shots fired at Greene Industries HQ, an unknown number of victims, a cop who happened to be on the scene calling it in and stopping the shooter.
She didn’t even know she was crying until she felt the tickle of the tear running down her face. Vivien knew Hilary was just as scared, but she couldn’t offer any solace or hope when she had to work so hard to numb her mind.
A hostage situation. Standoff. On the TV screen, they showed images of people evacuated from the building. She’d seen images like that before and been shocked, sad for the people getting caught up in this traumatic situation…but today was different. Today was like someone had ripped her heart out.
* * * *
In the back of the car, Vivien and Hilary stayed silent, holding on to each other’s hand. The news on the radio was delivered in a staccato mode, the host seemingly as shocked as everyone else. Vivien thought that the person who had meant to discredit Kerry with the Susan Wells story, would not get their fifteen minutes of fame. Instead, the man who had walked into Greene Industries’ headquarters with a gun had taken center stage. Distantly she began to notice that she was shaking, hard, with the effort to keep back the breakdown. The tears came anyway, and Hilary put an arm around her heaving shoulders. Vivien didn’t know whether the touch was a comfort or make her want to jump out of her skin even more. She had never felt so trapped before, not even when the situation at the rally escalated and she subsequently found herself in prison. Kerry had come to bail her out. She needed Kerry to come rescue her from this prison of fear.
“They’re going to be okay,” Hilary said, squeezing her hand.
How the hell do you know? Vivien didn’t say the words out loud. There was no point. “We all have a lot to talk about,” Hilary continued. “There are some crazy people out there. There will always be crazy people, but we can’t let that stop us, we can’t.”
Silently, Vivien was asking herself where the point was when you just gave up, when the greater good ceased to matter, because you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. Today would bring her own deciding moment, either way.
She blindly followed Hilary through a crowd of curious onlookers, almost a block away. People were kept at a distance from headquarters by a wide radius where the police had taped off the area. There were reporters, too, completely focused on what little could be seen from this far. Vivien prayed that none of them would bother her or Hilary, as she didn’t know what could possibly happen. She had no desire to get arrested again—though it wouldn’t matter if…Stop it. They finally made it through to one of the uniformed cops guarding the tape.
“Ma’am, you can’t…Mrs. Greene.”
“I need to know what’s happening. Where is my husband?”
Kerry. Vivien felt like she was going to either faint or throw up any moment. A man in a sergeant’s uniform joined them, his gaze serious. “Please come with me.”
“What? What are you talking about?” Hilary, too, had reached the end of her line.
“Let’s go somewhere we can talk in quiet.” The sound of the ambulance cut through the cacophony of noise, people scurrying, talking in hectic tones. Vivien realized the ambulance was leaving. That had to mean the building was secure? They got the shooter.
“Please, stay back,” an officer told her when she tried to duck under the tape after Hilary.
“I need her to come with me,” Hilary said firmly. Even scared out of her mind, she presented an authority hard to argue with. Vivien had never been more grateful about that. The policemen exchanged silent looks before the superior officer nodded. Each step was like going through molasses, like her feet were stuck, resisting the movement.
“Mrs. Greene!” a reporter shouted as they walked by. “What implications will today have on the Exodus project? Are you still going to go through with it?”
If Hilary had noticed him, she didn’t give him any indication. The sergeant led them to an area obviously set up for relatives. So it was over for real. Vivien flinched at the sight of Aimee. Her gaze was unfocused, the sleeves of her white blouse stained with blood, but she appeared physically unharmed. She sat with her arm around the receptionist who was crying on her shoulder.
“Will somebody tell me what is going on?” Hilary broke away from their small group and walked towards the two women with a purposeful stride. “Aimee! Where’s Marc?”
“Mrs. Greene.”
If Vivien felt like the ground was opening up underneath her, it had to be so much worse for Hilary.
“No. You can’t tell me…” Her voice was small, trailing of, as if she couldn’t bring herself to say the unthinkable.
“Viv.” Vivien wavered on her
feet for a moment, the edges of her vision graying out, and Kerry caught her, clutching her close enough to possibly leave bruises. There was blood on her clothes, and her hands. “Stay with me, please. It’s not mine. I’m okay.”
“…was shot…lost a lot of blood…” Vivien had caught only bits and pieces, but she made the connection moments before Hilary tumbled to the ground.
It wasn’t about her anymore, at all. She had to push back her own feelings, her fear, because her friends would need them more than ever before. Kerry would need her. What would happen to Exodus? No one knew, and frankly, at the moment, she found it hard to care.
* * * *
“Good work,” Captain Jepsen said as he passed her by. “I’m sure that will do away with all of those unfortunate rumors. I wish we could convince you to stay here though.” Kerry barely resisted the urge to snap at him. Four people got injured, two critically, and she’d had no choice but to shoot the gunman. Some success that was. She had managed a quick trip home to wash up and change, but she could still feel the stickiness of blood on her hands, seeping through her clothes. Her mind was playing a perpetual movie of the moments before the gun went off, taunting her with the delusion that there could have been anything she could have done for a different outcome. She even felt a flash of resentment for Marc who should have let her handle the situation, though Kerry wasn’t optimistic that the outcome could have been a different one. At least, Marc’s life might not be in danger if he’d stayed behind that damn desk.
She wanted to be with Vivien. She wanted to be in the hospital to support Hilary, instead of telling the same story over and over again. There was no urgency at the moment—the shooter was in custody, and he was more than happy digging himself deeper. His actions had to be seen in a context, but he had worked alone.
Truth be told, Kerry was terrified to talk to Hilary who had, after the brief fainting spell, held herself together fairly well. Vivien had gone with her, and Kerry had promised to join them as soon as she was done with her part of the cleaning up. You could replace some broken glass, but the people who went to work in this building day by day would be haunted by what happened today even without a reminder.
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