by Denise Wells
We sit in silence for a few more minutes. I’m tempted to pull out Candy Crush again. I swear I have the attention span of a four year-old lately. Just sitting here is driving me a little crazy. I hate having absolutely nothing to do but wait.
“Waiting has got to be the most mundane and wasteful activity ever,” I tell Bauer.
“Actually,” he says without looking at me. “It’s a very disciplined activity that requires intense concentration and focus. On top of that, more frequently than not it produces amazing results, especially in comparison to the time spent. The ratio of time spent versus results gained is in our favor.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” I tell him.
The parking lot starts to fill up, I pull out my phone to see what time it is.
7:40am.
He could get here at any time now.
Chapter 50
Kat
We sit for almost an hour, watching the lot continue to fill, kids streaming into the school, parents rushing off to work, teachers speed walking to classrooms. And then, just as fast as it started, the activity slows and then dissipates completely. Bauer is frustrated and on edge.
“How much longer are we going to sit here?” I ask.
He ignores me.
I check my messages - nothing new and exciting that would pull me away from here.
I sigh loudly.
Bauer still says nothing. I take a breath to sigh again when he suddenly sits up straighter in his seat.
“And here we go,” he says. I follow his gaze to the driveway of the lot, sure as shit, a blue Corolla is pulling into the lot. My pinkie finger starts to spasm. I squirm in my seat just a bit.
The car circles the lot around the outer edge then parks at the far end away from us. A man gets out. He looks like a guy you’d barely notice if you passed him on the street.
Short brown hair partially hidden by a navy baseball cap, jeans, brown t-shirt, tennis shoes, and dark sunglasses. He appears clean shaven with a slight build, medium height, and a barely noticeable limp on his right side.
He does a visual sweep of the parking lot, then bends down into the car for something. He straightens, looks around once more, then hurries across the lot to head into the school.
“It’s him. I know it is. What do we do?” I ask Bauer excitedly.
“We don’t want to spook him, so we wait, just a bit more, to make sure it’s our guy, and to see if he makes a move.” He pulls out his walkie and tells the other officers that we’ve spotted our guy and to stay alert but stand back and wait for further instruction.
Another two minutes pass with nothing happening. “Aargh! This is killing me!” I tell him.
“You and me both, Cookie,” he says.
We see him emerge from one of the hallways of the school, walking back toward the car. Only he’s not alone. A young girl is walking next to him.
She’s about half his height with curly red hair, wearing a yellow t-shirt with a unicorn picture on it, jeans, gray hoodie, and sandals. She does a little hop skip with every other step, trying to keep up with him. But also looking excited. I wonder if its Kendall Martin.
He’s not holding her hand, or seeming to force her in any way, but he is walking very close to her, bending down to her height when he speaks. His head continually moving back and forth as he visually sweeps the lot, trying to see everything around him at once.
“Do not approach. Stand back. Repeat, do not approach,” Bauer says into the walkie.
“How do we know that’s not just a dad and his daughter?” I ask. Doubting the prophetic wisdom of my pinkie finger, once again.
“I don’t think so. He looks nervous, and he’s not holding her hand crossing the lot,” Bauer says.
They reach the car and the man motions for the girl to stand back and turn around, which she does. He opens the door and leans in as though to get something. When he emerges from the car, he puts his hand over her mouth from behind, and she falls into his arms within seconds. He lifts her up and places her in the backseat of the car, then rushes around to the passenger side.
“What is he doing?” I ask Bauer. He’s the one with the binoculars, I can’t see the action nearly as well from my vantage point. He ignores my question, and tells the officers through the walkie to stand down once again.
Jeez, can’t they listen and follow directions after just one command of stand down?
I can see that he’s doing something on the passenger side of the car, I just can’t tell what. He finishes whatever he was doing, then hurries back around to the driver’s side, gets in, and begins to back out of the parking space quickly. His tires squeal a bit as he rushes to escape the parking lot.
Bauer speaks into the walkie, “Move in. Repeat. Move in and apprehend. Do not shoot. Child in the car. Repeat. Do not shoot. Child in the car. Someone get over to that parking space and see what he was doing.”
Police cars materialize from all sides of the lot, quickly blocking the escapes and cornering the blue Corolla. Someone radios in to Bauer that they’ve recovered an unconscious girl from near the vacated parking space, propped up against another car.
She appears to be Makayla Jones.
Another officer radios in that they’ve stopped the car. But the guy refuses to get out. And that he’s got another girl, who also appears to be unconscious in the backseat.
She appears to be Kendall Martin.
“What’s going on? Why don’t they pull him from the car?” I ask.
“We don’t know if he has any weapons. We have to make sure the girl is safe. And if he hurts himself, we can’t question him.”
Bauer’s phone rings, he answers it. Whatever he’s told does not make him happy.
“Let’s go,” he says.
“Where?” I ask.
“The perp will only get out of the car if you are there.”
“Whoa. Ok.”
We approach the car slowly. I’m apprehensive even though there are armed police officers everywhere.
My pinkie finger starts to spasm.
Thanks pinkie finger, way to prophesize. I wouldn’t have known something bad was going to happen otherwise.
We get within a few feet of the car, and Bauer puts his arm out to stop me from going any closer. The man in the car is looking straight ahead. He’s taken off the baseball cap, but the sunglasses remain.
I hear sirens and see the rescue truck from Brad’s station pull into the lot. A shiver runs through me at the thought of seeing him in action. His rig pauses at the gathering of cars with the blue Corolla and Brad gets out with a medical kit. The guys say something to Ethan and he speeds over to where the Corolla had been parked prior.
People from inside the school have heard the sirens and are gathering around the perimeter of the action.
“Get this area cordoned off now!” Bauer yells at whoever is listening. A second, larger firetruck pulls into the lot, blocking the view for the bulk of the bystanders.
“I want her to get in the car.” I hear from inside the blue Corolla.
I don’t want to get in the car.
“I want her to get in the car.” He’s louder now. All activity around us seems to stop.
“You,” he says pointing at me. I look around hoping there is someone else close by. No luck.
I really don’t want to get in the car.
“No.” Brad is standing behind me, his voice resonating.
This is why I love this man.
“Get in the fucking car!” The guy screams.
I need to do something.
”What about if I’m next to the car?” I ask in the general direction of the blue Corolla.
“Kat, no!” Brad says. “It’s not safe.”
Ignoring Brad, I inch closer to the driver’s side.
The guy looks over at me. Behind those sunglasses, he could be anyone. That’s how ordinary his facial features are. Even if I committed his image to memory now, I doubt I could pick him from a line-up tomorrow.
“If I get in the car, will you let the little girl out?” I ask him.
He nods once. “You get in the car, then he gets her out,” he says motioning to Brad.
“Kat,” Brad says, his tone warning.
“It’s fine,” I tell him. I walk around to the passenger side of the car and open the car door. I can see Kendall Martin in the backseat, her body is limp and not remotely like the little bundle of energy that had been walking beside the man earlier.
“Don’t do this, Kat. Please,” Brad says under his breath, but still loud enough for me to hear.
“Get in the car, kitty-kat,” the man says, his voice rising to a shrill.
I’m half in the car, still trying to decide if this is a good idea. Brad looks at me pleadingly.
“Don’t,” he mouths and he moves toward me.
“Stop!” the man yells. He pulls a gun from the side pocket in the car door and points it in Brad’s direction.
Brad stops.
“Get in!” He turns to point the gun at me.
I’m in the passenger seat with the door closed in a matter of seconds.
The man is breathing erratically. But, this close, and without the baseball cap, I can tell that it’s definitely Gil Iverson.
I take a chance.
“Gil?”
He turns his head toward me. “You know me?” he asks.
“I know that you’re Gil Iverson,” I say.
“It wasn’t supposed to end like this,” he says.
“How was it supposed to end?”
“Once I was saved.”
“What was going to save you?” I ask.
“You were, kitty-kat. You were going to save me.”
Chapter 51
Brad
I see Kat get in the car.
“Fuck!”
I have to stop myself from hitting something. Someone.
Bauer moves to stand beside me. He puts his hand on my shoulder.
“If you don’t get her out of there, I will,” I tell him.
“The guy has settled down a bit since she got in.”
“He still has a gun pointed at her,” I say.
“And we’ve got three times as many pointed at him.”
“That helps how?”
He sighs.
“This is your fucking fault. If anything happens to her—” I say.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to her,” he says.
“I’M not going to let anything happen to her,” I say.
“Look, I know this is hard to deal with. But just let us do our job. Don’t try to play the fucking hero, all right?”
He walks back to where Sherman is standing and they all just stand there, watching the car, waiting for something to happen.
Fuck this.
I move toward the car. Ethan grabs my arm to stop me.
“Give it a minute, bro. Kat’s dealt with criminals for a long time. She knows how they think, she’s not going to do anything stupid,” he says.
“Then why’d she get in the fucking car, E?” I run my hand over my face, frustrated and scared. “I just fucking got her back.”
Ethan pats my shoulder twice, in a move that I’m sure is meant to be reassuring, but just makes me more tense.
I clench my fists, then relax my hands a few times. Roll my head around and loosen up my shoulders.
Getting ready for action.
Chapter 52
Kat
Gil still has the gun pointed at me. His eyes flit back and forth trying to see everything around us at once. I can see Brad through the car window, just over Gil’s shoulder, pacing. Which does nothing to help calm Gil. So I try to distract him.
“How was I going to save you?” I ask.
He stares at me, for a long time. So long, that I’m afraid I’ve turned him off with my question.
“You spoke to me. When you were interviewed on the news. You spoke to me through the TV screen and your words went straight to my soul.”
“What did I say?” I ask, not remembering what he is referring to.
“That I deserve a second chance. And that one false step doesn’t have to detonate the landmine that is my life. You said I could be turned around, rehabilitated, and redeemed,” he pauses. “But you were wrong.”
“How was I—”
“GIL IVERSON.”
Sherman’s voice booms through the police bull horn, making us both jump. Gil turns back and forth trying to see where the voice is coming from, the gun twisting back and forth with him. I try to lean away from it each time it points at me.
“Uh, can you give us a minute?” I yell toward the car window.
Kendall begins to stir in the back seat. “Mommy?” she asks, her voice groggy.
“It’s okay, Kendall,” I tell her.
“Don’t tell her that!” Gil says.
“I don’t know you,” she says to me.
She turns toward Gil, “I don’t know you.”
She looks around. “Why are the policemen here?”
Then she starts to scream. Loudly.
Gil covers his ears, rocking his head back and forth. “Make her stop! Make her stop!”
The gun goes off, shooting through the roof of the car. The noise is deafening.
Kendall screams louder.
I shake my head trying to get the ringing in my ears to stop.
Next thing I know, I’m out of the car and in Brad’s arms, Gil is on the ground and being handcuffed by Bauer, and Kendall is being carried by Ethan to a stretcher.
“Kat, are you hurt?” Brad asks, running his hands over my body searching for injuries.
“I’m fine,” I tell him.
He leads me off to the side of the chaos and pulls me tight against him.
“My God, baby, how could you get in that car? Do you have a fucking death wish? What were you thinking?” he says to the top of my head, his voice muffled by my hair. I can feel that he’s shaking.
“I’m okay,” I say. “And I was thinking there was a little girl in the car. I couldn’t leave her in there.”
“That’s what the fucking police are for, Kat. Not you. You won’t be working with Sherman and Bauer again. Period.” He sighs loudly, his body seeming to relax a degree. “God, baby. Promise me you won’t put yourself in a situation like that again?”
I open my mouth to disagree with his trying to dictate what I do but decide now is not the right time. So, instead I open my mouth and lie.
“I promise.”
One of the techs calls Brad over to help check Kendall and Makayla. He wraps me in a blanket and makes me sit in the back of the rig first.
“Don’t move,” he says, pulling me into a hug and kissing me firmly on the lips. He lets me go and steps back to go help the other guys. Public displays of affection are frowned upon when the guys are on duty at active call sites. I’m sure it’s frowned upon at the station when they are on duty too, but for some reason it never feels as inappropriate when we’ve been there.
I watch as he gives Kendall a slight sedative to calm her down and hooks her up to oxygen. I get a little shiver watching him in action; his movements calm and confident.
The ambulances arrive and Brad and Ethan help get the little girls onto gurneys and inside. Both girls will be admitted to the hospital and checked out, in addition, Makayla will also be checked for injury and rape. I shudder at the thought of the poor girl having to endure a rape kit examination.
Gil sits in the back of a squad car and Bauer is standing near it, talking to a man, who I assume is the principal of the school. Both are speaking in hushed tones and nodding their heads gravely.
Stacy approaches them from behind.
Why is she here?
I forgot both girls are in her class, she’s their teacher.
Can this day get any better?
Her eyes widen when she sees me. I keep my face blank.
I hear her tell Bauer and the principal that she has contacted the parents of each
girl and they’ll be meeting them at the hospital. Then, loudly, she says, “I can’t believe this happened. And to my students. How do we feel safe again? How do I help them to feel safe again?” She starts to cry. The principal pats her on the back, awkwardly, and motions to Brad.
Brad approaches slowly.
The principal must think they are still dating. He points Stacy toward Brad and nudges her in his direction, she turns into Brad clinging to his shirt and crying. He rubs her back and looks at me from over her head, an apologetic look on his face.
I don’t need to be watching this.
I drop the blanket from my shoulders and jump off the back of the rig. I swear my movements catch Stacy’s eye, and I watch in fascination as she fakes a fainting spell. At least I’m pretty sure it’s fake.
Brad catches her in his arms and carries her toward the same rig I’ve just jumped out of.
“Kat,” he starts to say as we pass one another. But I continue walking past him towards Bauer.
“What’s next, boss? I ask when I reach him.
“You doing okay?” He looks concerned.
“Aw, you don’t need to worry about little ol’ me.”
“You were in a car alone with a psychopath who had a gun to your head. Of course I’m worried about you.”
“I’m good.”
“We are heading back to the precinct in a bit, I’ll get one of the guys to take you home.”
“Why can’t I go to the precinct?” I ask.
“One, I don’t think we need you there. Two, you should probably rest. Three, your little prince charming over there is going to blow a gasket if I let you do anything else on this case.”
As he says it, I realize I’m completely exhausted. An all night sex-a-thon with Brad, combined with waking up so early, and the adrenaline rush I’ve just experienced is causing a crash in a big way.
“I think I will go home if that’s okay.”
Sherman approaches us. “We’ve Mirandized him and he’s willing to talk.”
“That’s great!” Bauer and I both say at the same time.
Sherman runs his hand down his face. “But, he’s only willing to talk to you,” he says to me.
And they say there’s no rest for the wicked.
I turn to Bauer. “You heard the man. Let’s go get this guy to talk.”