“You were upset last night about Dennis Barnett.”
“The interview was hard on him, and he didn’t have anyone to support him afterward. And now Wade is out of prison, but Dennis can’t go see him. And then there’s Whitney Morrissey still out there.”
“Want to stop by? Check up on him?”
“Suzanne sent NYPD over. He’s fine.”
“Do you want to stop by?”
“Do we have time?”
“We’ll make time.”
Wade tried to focus on an ESPN interview with the Yankees coach about the upcoming season, but even baseball couldn’t get his mind off Whitney and all the women she’d killed.
He didn’t care what the FBI agent said; he blamed himself. He had been so damn selfish and blind to who she really was, but thinking about her behavior now, all the signs had been there.
He’d been a fool to sleep with her after Alanna died. He did stupid things when he was drunk.
His cell phone rang. He almost answered it, but Agent Hansen shook her head and took the phone from him.
“Wade Barnett’s residence.” A moment later, she handed it to him. “He says he’s your brother Dennis.”
Wade smiled and took the phone. “Denny. Hey, I’m glad you called me back.”
“Whitney is here and she hurt Mom,” Dennis whispered. “She wants you to come right now with no one else.”
Another voice came on the line. “Come alone, no police, or your retarded brother will die.”
Dennis whimpered on the phone.
Wade discreetly glanced at Agent Hansen. She was looking at the view from his window. How much attention was she paying to his conversation? “Sure,” he said cheerily. “I can do that.”
Whitney gushed, “I knew you would come. I love you so much, Wade. It hurts how much I love you. Hurry.”
The line went dead.
Wade looked around his twelfth-floor apartment. How was he going to get out without the Feds knowing? The only way was the fire escape, but could he get out without attracting attention?
He had an idea.
“Okay, Denny,” he said into the dead phone. “I’ll talk to the FBI and I’m sure they’ll let you visit. I’ll call you back. Love you, too.” He put down his phone. “Agent Hansen, do you think my brother could come over for dinner tonight?”
She said, “I don’t see why not, but I’ll clear it with Suzanne when she calls in.”
“Great. Do you mind if I put on some music?”
“Not at all.”
THIRTY-TWO
Sean turned into the exclusive Staten Island neighborhood of Todt Hill, where Dennis lived with his mother. Lucy hadn’t expected the sedately grand homes mixed with trees and gentle hills so close to the towering buildings of Manhattan, and the sprawling development in Brooklyn. She liked it here.
“Thanks for avoiding the tunnel.”
“It was truly a feat of engineering.”
“It’s just plain creepy. Aren’t you scared of anything?”
“Scared?” he said with mock indignation.
“Bad choice of words. You know what I mean.”
“Prison. I didn’t like the door closing and locking behind me at Rikers and I was even free to leave.”
“Most normal people are scared of prison.”
He stopped in front of a multilevel house surrounded by trees on a deep, narrow lot near the end of a cul-de-sac. He looked at her. Though his voice was light, his sentiment wasn’t. “The only thing I fear is losing you, Princess.”
Lucy’s heart flipped. She leaned over and kissed him. “You’re not going to.”
They got out of the car and walked up the short stone path that led to an elaborate curving staircase. The main entrance was on the second floor, with the first floor housing the five-car garage. Sean rang the bell.
Lucy asked, “Does Kirsten want to see Dennis?”
“After her surgery. She believes he saved her life, and he may well have.”
“Good. Telling Dennis that should help him put this whole mess behind him.”
Lucy saw movement on the other side of the leaded, beveled glass door. “I saw someone down the hall, just a shadow through the glass.”
Sean rang the bell again, taking a slightly protective stance half a step in front of Lucy.
Still, no answer.
“Maybe it was a dog,” Lucy said. “A big dog.”
“That doesn’t bark? Probably his mother.”
“Why wouldn’t she answer?”
“The police may have told them to stay indoors, not answer the door, any number of security measures,” Sean said. “I’ll check out the grounds.”
“I’ll call Dennis,” Lucy said.
They walked down the stairs and Lucy stood next to the garage while Sean walked around to the back of the house. She dialed Dennis’s cell phone, but on the fifth ring his voice mail came on.
“Hi Dennis, this is Lucy Kincaid, remember me? I’m a friend of Kirsten’s. I just wanted to check if everything is okay at your house. Please call me back, okay?” She left her number and hung up. She stared at the house, filled with a nagging sense of dread.
Sean returned. “We have a big problem. Whitney Morrissey is here.”
“You saw her?”
“No, but she made her mark. On the wall of one of the rooms is a life-sized drawing of Wade Barnett.”
“I’ll call Suzanne,” Lucy said.
“Let’s go to the car. I have an idea.”
They got into the car and Sean circled the cul-de-sac and drove past the Barnett house. If Whitney was watching, she’d see them leave.
Lucy called Suzanne.
“Lucy, what’s up? I’m in the middle of a crisis.”
“Something’s wrong at Dennis Barnett’s house. Sean and I are here, no one’s answering the door or phone, and Sean saw one of Whitney’s signature drawings through a window.”
“Shit!” She talked to someone in the background. “That must be why Wade took off down the fire escape. I’ll call the locals, because I can’t get there in less than thirty.”
“Tell them to steer clear of the house. No sign of cops. If Whitney’s in there-”
“I know. Two, maybe three, possible hostages. You and Sean keep your eye on the house, but don’t engage.”
“When did Wade leave?”
“Between fifteen and twenty minutes ago. He didn’t take his car, so he’s probably in a taxi.”
Lucy hung up. “She said don’t engage. Wade disappeared.”
“If Whitney’s inside, she’ll kill Dennis as soon as Wade shows up.”
“If she hasn’t killed him already.”
Sean turned the car around again and parked two houses up from the Barnetts’, around the bend in the cul-de-sac, out of sight. “We’ll cut through the neighbor’s side yard and enter the Barnett property from the rear,” Sean said. “You make your way around to the far side of the garage-you won’t be seen from the house, but you’ll be able to watch for Wade. Keep him out of the house. I’ll find a way inside and assess the danger.”
Lucy didn’t like that idea. “Be careful, Sean. Whitney is volatile, and won’t care who she kills.”
“I’m more concerned about you. She seems to hate women more than men.”
Lucy considered that. “Women are her adversaries, but so is Dennis because he takes Wade’s attention away from her.”
“Our goal is to secure the house until the police arrive.” He retrieved his gun from the trunk and a small pouch with tools. “If I can get Dennis or his mother out, I will.” He kissed her quickly and handed her a.22 pistol strapped into an ankle holster. “Just in case.”
She checked the ammo and the safety, then strapped on the holster, but she wouldn’t be able to easily get to it under her jeans. She tucked the gun into the small of her back instead.
“When we get home, I’m getting you fitted for holsters,” Sean said.
“I have my own gun.”
�
��Which you didn’t bring.”
“I was following the law. No guns in the city.”
“Tell it to the criminals.”
They cut through the neighbor’s yard around the back of the Barnett property. Sean motioned for Lucy to run low along a path camouflaged by neatly trimmed hedges, which would put her on the far side of the garage.
It took Lucy less than a minute to get into position. When she looked back, she couldn’t see Sean anywhere. She wondered how he’d disappeared so quickly.
Near where Lucy hid there was a side door leading into the house. She checked the knob; locked. She moved to the other side so she could watch the road and the door at the same time.
How long ago had she called Suzanne? Lucy looked at her phone. Only four minutes?
An NYPD car drove slowly past the house. Lucy froze, unsure if the officer would be able to see her. The car turned around in the cul-de-sac, then went back up the road.
If Whitney was watching, would she suspect that the cops were coming for her? Were the Barnetts in greater danger?
A taxi pulled up in front of the house a minute later. Wade Barnett got out and strode up the path.
“Wade.” Lucy turned toward him as he walked past her hiding spot.
He jumped. “Who are you?”
“Lucy Kincaid. Agent Madeaux is on her way.”
“No! Tell her to back off.” Wade rubbed his palms repeatedly on his slacks. His temples were damp with sweat.
“Don’t give Whitney what she wants. She’s dangerous and suicidal. She’ll kill your family, then you, and then herself.”
He shook his head. “She’ll kill Dennis if I don’t go in.”
“Give the police time to get into position. They have hostage negotiators who know how to handle situations like this.”
“No one can negotiate with that nutcase!”
“Shh!” Lucy glanced around. “Please trust me.”
“He’s my brother. He depends on me.”
“Sean is trying to get inside.”
“Sean Rogan? You’re with him?”
She nodded. “He knows what he’s doing. Trust him.”
Wade was torn.
The door opened behind Lucy. She reached for her gun, but didn’t draw when she saw Dennis. His head was bleeding and he was shaking. “Y-y-you have to c-come inside now,” he said. “P-please.” His eyes darted to the left. Lucy saw a female hand on his shoulder.
Wade pushed past Lucy and reached for his brother. Whitney peered over Dennis’s shoulder. She held a gun at his neck.
“You brought one of your girlfriends?” Whitney said, with a furious glare at Lucy.
“No, I don’t know who she is-”
Whitney’s eyes teared and she pulled Dennis back into the house. Behind her was a long, wide hall, a laundry room beyond, and a staircase to the right.
“You’re cheating on me! Again!”
“No, I’m not,” Wade said. He put his palms up. “It’s been over between us for a long time.”
No! Lucy wanted to scream. When engaged in conversation with Whitney, Wade needed to play along with her as long as possible. It would buy time.
“It’s not over!” Whitney screamed, and Dennis let out a yelp as her fingernails dug into his shoulder.
“Pretend!” Lucy ordered Wade through clenched teeth, hoping he understood.
“Where’d you pick up this little slut? In prison? Or is she a cop? You fucked a cop once, you told me.”
“I’m not a cop,” Lucy said. If Whitney felt threatened, it would make her even more unpredictable. Whitney had the gun, she was in charge. Whitney had to continue believing she was in complete control in order to keep her as calm and reasonable as possible. As reasonable as she could be, Lucy thought, which wasn’t comforting considering her history.
If Wade cooperated, Lucy might be able to talk their way out of this, or at least get Dennis to safety. If she could get him out of the house, Sean would have to rescue only Mrs. Barnett.
Lucy considered everything she knew about Whitney. She’d read her journal. She’d studied her artwork. Lucy understood Whitney better than Whitney understood herself. But the killer didn’t know that, and if Lucy remained calm and focused, she could use her knowledge to defuse the situation and give Sean and the police more time to get into place.
A hint of a shadow moved to her left. As Wade pleaded with Whitney, Lucy glanced up. Sean was on the roof.
“Let Dennis walk away and I’ll come in,” Wade said. He stepped forward. “Please, Whitney.”
Lucy held her breath, silently pleading for Whitney to let the terrified young man go.
Lucy heard a car door slam up the street. Then another.
Whitney heard it, too.
“Inside! Now!”
“Let Dennis go-”
“Now!” Whitney screamed.
“Just let him-”
“Get in get in get in!” She shook Dennis as she screamed.
Wade stepped through the doorway as Whitney backed up. Lucy reached out. “Don’t, Wade, please-” If he went in, he was as good as dead.
“You, too, you little bitch.”
“She’s not part of this,” Wade said.
Whitney ignored Wade. She glared at Lucy and put the gun to Dennis’s ear. He started crying.
Whitney pushed the barrel of the gun so hard into Dennis’s ear that the sight at the end cut his lobe, which started bleeding. Her finger was on the trigger.
“You don’t care about the idiot any more than I do,” Whitney said to Lucy.
“You’re not letting Dennis go if I walk in there?”
“No, but he can die now or he can die with everyone else.”
Time. It was the only thing Lucy had to work with.
She followed Wade inside.
Sean watched the scene below him. He knew she had no choice, but he didn’t want Lucy in that house.
She knows what she’s doing.
But Whitney was an unpredictable psycho. Sean crawled back up the steep tile roof, wet from the recent storms. The sky was overcast, and the wind whipped around him. The roof wasn’t nearly as steep as mountains Sean had scaled, but he didn’t have a safety harness. He slipped once and slid two feet before he caught the edge of a tile, which dug sharply into his fingers.
“Slow down, boy,” he admonished. If he fell and broke his neck he would be of no help to Lucy.
From the top, where two dormer windows led to the attic, Sean could see four police cars and two unmarked sedans up the street surrounding his GT. He didn’t see Suzanne in the mix, but had her ETA pegged for at least another ten minutes. He sent her a message.
Cops not being discreet-get them to back off until SWAT arrives. Whitney has gun. Has Lucy, Wade, and Dennis hostages on main level. Barnett mother’s whereabouts unknown. I’m going inside. Tell them I’m one of the good guys.
The window was locked. Sean rolled out his tools and picked up his glass-cutter. Being trained under two veterans-his brother Duke and Duke’s partner, JT Caruso-had given Sean a wealth of skills most civilians didn’t have.
He gently pushed in the glass at the bottom so he could pull it out in one piece. He doubted anyone downstairs would hear the breaking glass, but he wasn’t taking chances. He reached in and unlocked the window. It was stiff from disuse, but eventually it opened with a screech. Sean grimaced at the noise, slipped through, and listened. He heard nothing in the house below-no shouting, no gunshots, no one running up the stairs to confront him.
His eyes adjusted to the dark, dusty room. He found a light switch, but the bulb was burned out or missing. On the far side was an opening that led to a staircase. He shined his pencil-size flashlight and found another switch. A ceiling light illuminated the stairwell and a door below.
Sean walked down along the edge of the wooden stairs hoping to diminish the sound of creaking steps. He carefully cracked open the door to assess the landing. It was the second floor, near the end of the hall. The many hall
way doors were closed. When he was confident there was no one there, he stepped out, quietly closing the door behind him.
He heard a voice on the main floor below. By its panicked and shrill tone, it was Whitney.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked the message.
SWAT is en route, ETA 4 min. I’m 9 min out. Talked to the lieutenant, and cops will secure and hold. Stay put.
Sean ignored the last comment. He pocketed his phone and walked down the carpeted hall to the top of a double-wide curving staircase that led to a marbled foyer below. The voice echoed.
“We could go to an island,” Whitney said, sounding delusional. “Wade, we need time alone. With no one to interfere.”
“Okay,” Wade said. “Let’s go. You and me, right now.”
The voices were coming from almost directly beneath Sean. That meant they weren’t near the front of the house. He sent Suzanne a message to that effect, and started down the stairs. Almost immediately he realized that if he continued, everyone in that room would be able to see him. He got on his knees and looked through the railings. The room was a den with two narrow windows looking out into the side yard and several evergreen trees.
He couldn’t see Lucy or Whitney, but Wade stood next to a sofa where an unconscious older female lay. There was blood on her head.
He silently went back up the stairs, gave Suzanne the information, then checked the rest of the floor for a second staircase. He thought in a house this big there’d be another way down, but there wasn’t.
He would have to take his chances.
THIRTY-THREE
Sean had seen only the art Whitney had drawn on the wall of the den, but Lucy saw that she’d been hard at work. Dozens of drawings were strewn around the room and taped on the walls. They were rough, hurried, and incomplete, without her usual meticulous attention to detail. These had a sharper, almost frantic texture to them. But the subject was still obvious: Wade Barnett.
Wade stood next to his unconscious mother lying on the couch. “Let’s do it, Whitney. Right now,” Wade said. “I have the money. We’ll go to Martha’s Vineyard. My family has a place there.”
Lucy had been watching Whitney carefully. She was using Dennis as a shield of sorts because Dennis was being compliant. She kept one hand on a shoulder, and used the gun to poke him when she wanted to make a point.
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