“I know you don’t, Mark. Why don’t you give yourself up? It would be the best thing.”
“I can’t now. They’d arrest me. Then what would happen to you and the kids?”
“Don’t worry about us. Think about yourself.”
“I can’t. I’m staying here for you. I don’t matter. I’d stand in front of the window and let the SWAT team pick me off if I owned any insurance to leave you.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Stephanie was crying again now, too. “Don’t say something like that. You’re more important to us than money.”
“I’m not much good if I can’t even keep my family from starving.” Mark put his hands over his face and rocked, the picture of despair.
“Sweetie, please give yourself up. You have to.”
“No, I can’t.”
Chapter 18
Earlier, Rose had gone over to Anna’s house to tell Mallory she was to stay at Rose’s until her mother got home. Mallory was morose and moody and said she wanted to stay home. Rose insisted she should be at her house in case Jeff or their mother called. When she got the two children together, she told them what happened.
Brian started to cry, and Mallory sat, dazed, in her chair, trembling badly. Rose could see it from where she sat. “No.” Mallory shook her head over and over. “Not Mom, too. It can’t happen. We can’t lose Mom, too. No.”
Pain and fear emanated from both of the children. Rose felt so badly for them. To know their mother was in such danger this soon after losing their father must be nearly unbearable for them both. She got up and went to Brian and he leapt into her arms, grasping her around the neck as he cried into her shoulder.
“Your mom will be all right. Jeff is there, taking care of everything.”
“Jeff. . .” Mallory murmured, looking at Rose distractedly. “He’s a good cop. But Rose, you read about these things all the time. Somebody’s always getting killed. The police storm the place sometimes, shooting their way in. Always—somebody’s killed.”
“The policemen know what they’re doing. It's rare that police injure hostages. Usually it’s the kidnapper himself.”
Brian stopped crying and was hiccupping from time to time. Mallory looked at him but Rose could see she was too upset herself to help him much. Brian looked bewildered. Lost. Rose could tell he was thinking he'd never see his father again and now he might never see his mother again either. Rose wasn’t sure what to do, except to offer him her warm strength.
Mallory propped her elbows on her knees and dropped her face into her shaking fingers. Rose knew what she was thinking—it was written all over her face. This was her fault. She'd been nasty and rotten to her mother after her dad had died. She'd given her too much trouble. Rose had witnessed it several times.
Mallory tried to pray, to atone, to bargain. “Please, God,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I hurt Mom that much. I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t help it. I won’t hurt her ever again if only you’ll let her come out safe. And I’ll never touch another joint again. I promise.”
Mallory went over to sit next to Brian, slowly talking to him to try to soothe him. She crooned to her little brother like she would a fretful baby.
Mallory looked at Rose. "You know what's weird? I wish Jeff was here. He's at city hall, though. And that's where he can help Mom most so I'm glad he's there with her. Cam—Cam might be home. Can I call Cam?"
"Of course, dear.”
Rose tried not to listen but Mallory's voice was sharp with distress so it was impossible. “Cam, this is Mallory.”
She listened for a moment. “We’re at a neighbor's. I wouldn’t have wanted to wait at my house anyway. That’s where—oh Cam, it’s awful. It’s like a nightmare happening all over again. Oh, thank you. I’ll be here.” She hung up. "Cam is coming over."
"I gathered.
Mallory looked like she was going to burst into tears and ran into the den.
Jeff stood in one of the offices of the city council chambers, across the promenade from the city hall building. The entire front of the triangular, ultramodern building was made of the same smoked glass as the city hall, and would make an excellent cover if the lights stayed off. He positioned the members of the Broome County Police SWAT so if Spencer showed himself, alone, at the window of the mayor’s office, one of the sharpshooters could get a shot at him.
He stared at the mayor’s office in the corner of the fourth floor facing him. Because the lights were on and it was getting dark, he could see into the room from where he stood. He’d instructed the men not to attempt a shot unless they could get a clear view of Spencer and he was, without any doubt, alone. He was suddenly thankful the mayor was bald and Anna blonde. Spencer should be easy to identify. They probably wouldn’t get a clean shot, but they needed to be ready.
Anna felt a little better. They’d all eaten roast beef sandwiches the psychologist suggested Betty send up some time ago. At least Mark had accepted the food, and looked better, too. He probably hadn’t eaten a square meal in days.
Mayor Stanton whispered to her, "I saw policemen with high-powered rifles moving among the shadows below. It would be a good idea for us to stay away from the windows.”
Her stomach pitched when she heard his comment. "I don’t want to get shot, but I don't want Mark to get shot, either."
Exhausted, Anna stretched out on the couch against the end wall and tried to close her eyes and rest, even for a few moments. It was approaching midnight and she’d only slept a few hours in two days. But it was impossible for her to relax with the police out there pointing guns at the building.
She opened her eyes and glanced around. The mayor sat on the carpet with his back propped against the end of the L-shaped sofa. Mark was sitting in the desk chair, methodically taking apart the mayor’s stapler. He jumped about a foot when the phone buzzer broke the stillness of the room. When he picked it up, Jeff could be heard on the speakerphone.
“Mark, I'll get right to the point. I’ve been talking to your former employer. He says you were a good worker and he’d be willing to take you back on. He can’t guarantee he could keep you on all winter. However, he thinks he can swing part-time at least. He’s also contacted a man he knows in the small appliance business, who said if you’d be willing to take some training there, he’ll give you some of the overflow from his shop to work on at home. All of that sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”
Mark grinned in relief. “It does to me, too, sir. Thank you.”
“If you come out now, you realize you’ll still be arrested for kidnapping and other charges, and you’ll have to stand trial. I think we could get you a minimum sentence if you give yourself up. Your job would be waiting for you when you get out.”
Mark’s grin faded. “What about my family while I’m in prison? No. I want you to guarantee I won’t be arrested when I leave here.”
“Your family will be taken care of. I’m sorry, son. We can’t do as you ask. If I told you we wouldn’t arrest you, I’d be lying to you. I don’t work that way. Everything I tell you is honest and upfront.”
“Then I’m not coming out.” Mark slammed his thumb down on the speaker button.
Anna’s heart was heavy. When she’d seen Mark smile, she’d thought the ordeal was over, but from hearing the conversation, she knew Jeff couldn’t let Mark go free. She crept over to the desk where Mark was sitting, his forehead in one hand, the other hand opening and closing spasmodically on the handle of the gun.
Skirting the weapon, she sat on the edge of the desk facing him. “Are you okay, Mark?”
He didn’t raise his head. "They found me a job. Still, I’ll have to go to prison first.”
“They don’t have any choice in what to do there. It's the law.”
“Maybe they don’t think so, but if they want to get me out of here, they’ll ben
d a few rules. I’ve got my family to consider. I need this job now, not later.”
“They’ll be all right until you get out of prison. Better that than to be shot and never be able to provide for them again.”
“You don’t know how I feel. You have a job.”
“I didn’t for a long time, so I do know how you feel. And besides, it’s not the kind of job I really want. It’s a stopgap until I find something better. When I started looking, I hoped to be able to find a job in social services. I’ve always wanted a career helping elderly people. I’ve been doing volunteer work for them since I was sixteen."
Mayor Stanton looked up. “They wouldn’t consider your volunteer work toward any experience?”
“No.” Anna twisted around to look at him. “I guess the almighty degree is what they consider most important, not how easily you get along with elderly people.”
“You can get the education, can’t you?”
“Not on the salary I make. If I could get the job first and then work toward the degree, I could swing it, but I can’t get the job.”
He pursed his lips in thought. “Maybe I could do something. Once we get out of here.”
“If we ever get out of here,” Mark sneered, jumping off the desk to pace in front of it.
“Mark, you have to give yourself up. You have no choice.” Anna knelt on top of the desk and tried to catch his attention as he went by.
“I can wait for them to guarantee they won’t arrest me.”
“They won’t do that. I know Jeff. He has high principles. He’s been honest with you from the start, and will continue to be. He’s laid it right on the line. You have to turn yourself in.”
“I—I can’t.” His voice broke as he seemed to force the words out.
“Mark, think of Stephanie.”
“I am.” He stopped and faced her, nervous. His anger seemed to be on a hair trigger. “She’s all I’m thinking about.” He sank onto the edge of the desk again.
“No, you’re not. Not really. Think about what it would be like for her to lose the man she loves in a shootout, or at the hands of a SWAT sharpshooter.” Anna slid off the desk and gripped him by the arm. “I lost my husband. I’ve been through it, Mark. It’s hell. Believe me. The worst thing you can do to her is to deprive her of yourself. It’s far worse than living in a broken down apartment, or going on welfare, or eating macaroni five nights a week.” She shook him. “It is. Don’t do it to her.”
His head sank into his hands and he broke down, sobbing. Anna reached up and put her arms around his neck, letting him cry on her shoulder. Sobs racked his gaunt frame in violent jerks, and she hugged him in sympathy.
Mayor Stanton stood next to them, his hands jammed into his trouser pockets, his eyes sorrowful. “I’d be willing,” he said, “to sign some sort of deposition asking for leniency. You didn’t harm anyone, and I know now you never would have.”
“I’ll sign one, too. And I’ll go to court with you as a witness. I’m sure the court will be as lenient as possible.”
Mark nodded and pulled away from her. “Okay,” he whispered, hanging his head. “I’ll go. Call Detective Thomas.”
Anna dialed the internal number of the data processing room with shaking fingers. Jeff answered immediately.
“Mark is giving himself up,” she said, her voice solemn. “We’re coming out.”
“Thank God.” Jeff sighed in relief. “I’ll see you in a minute.” He stood behind the desk for a few moments, one hand rubbing his eyes, and then headed for the door. Carruthers was coming down the hall from the office where Mrs. Stanton and Mrs. Spencer sat, talking quietly. Jeff started to grin and motion for him to join him when Carruther’s head jerked, then his body suddenly froze.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jeff saw Mark Spencer open the door of the mayor’s office in slow motion and then step out. In three long bounds, Carruthers was at the glass corner of the reception area in attack stance, both hands around his pistol as he leveled it to fire.
In horror, Jeff saw the pistol raised at Mark, and leapt in a flying tackle for Carruther’s gun hand. The gun cracked, fire visible in the dim corridor, and the plate glass shattered in a thousand pieces. Jeff and Carruthers hit the floor together. Mark flew backward from the impact of the bullet and his gun went skittering across the floor.
“You son of a bitch!” Jeff screamed at the bewildered Carruthers. “He was giving himself up!” Scrambling to his feet, Jeff ran through the mass of splintered glass. Mark lay motionless in a pool of blood, three feet from the office door.
“Oh my God.” Anna rushed over and knelt by Mark’s body.
Jeff motioned to another startled patrolman who'd run in to see what was happening. “Get the ambulance. It’s on stand-by downstairs.”
Anna began pulling away shredded clothing to see Mark’s wounds. Blood-soaked scraps of fabric came away in her fingers, staining them crimson. The injury was in the abdominal area, on the right side. She pressed her palm there, trying to stanch the bleeding. Jeff thrust a handkerchief into her hand, and she used it to help apply pressure.
Stephanie ran into the room, Mrs. Stanton behind her. “Oh no,” she whispered, falling to her knees beside Mark. “Mark, honey. Can you hear me?" She looked up at Anna. "Is he dead?”
“No,” Anna assured her. “Ambulance attendants are on their way up.”
The elevator doors opened, and three EMTS pushed a stretcher out the door and through the gaping opening to the cluster of people around Mark.
One carried a medical bag. “Stand back,” he ordered as he opened his bag and bent over Mark, his eyes taking in the wound at a glance. The EMT listened to Mark’s heart and checked his blood pressure as his assistant took over applying pressure to the wound. Together they made up a makeshift bandage, and lifted him to the stretcher, raising it so one EMT could keep pressing on the bandage as they made their way back to the elevator. “We’ll take him straight to General.”
“Will he be all right?” Stephanie asked through her tears.
“I don’t know. It’s too soon to tell. They’ll probably have to operate to remove the bullet and we won’t know if any life-threatening organs are involved until then. His chances are about fifty-fifty. I’d say.”
“I’m his wife. May I go with him?”
“Sure. Hurry, though. He needs all the time he can get.”
“A patrolman will go, too,” Jeff said. He pointed to the young cop who called for the ambulance, and he followed the EMTs to the elevator.
Jeff looked around. Mayor Stanton was standing by the window with his wife in his arms. Anna, her shoulders slumped, was staring at her hands. Blood coated them all the way to her elbows, with more splotches on her white blouse. He stepped to her side. “Let’s find you a restroom so you can wash up.”
After guiding her to the restroom down the hall, Jeff walked back to the reception area, the glass crunching under his feet. Carruthers sat on the beige U-shaped sofa in the mayor’s office, cupping his face in his hands. Jeff sat next to him and patted his shoulder. “I’m sorry I came down that hard on you. I was upset.”
Carruthers shrugged wearily. “I didn’t know. I thought he was trying to escape.”
“I know. It happened too fast. That’s why these situations are dangerous and give cops nightmares. Anything can happen in a fraction of a second.”
“I thought I was doing the right thing.” Carruthers raised his head. “He was armed and considered dangerous.”
“As far as you knew, he was. With something like this, there’ll have to be an interdepartmental investigation. I’m sure you’ll be cleared. I'll testify for you. The papers will no doubt make a big deal out of it, but it’ll die down. I only hope Mark will be all right.”
“If he lives, it’ll be thanks to you. You threw me off so
me when you tackled me. Thanks.”
“Yes, thanks.” Anna spoke behind him. “You may have saved his life. I’m grateful.” Jeff turned to see her standing near. “He’s a good man. He needs a few breaks. I hope the court has a chance to give him one.”
“It’s up to the judge. Right now I can’t help but feel pretty damned angry at him for putting you in danger.”
“I’m okay. He wouldn’t have hurt me.”
“He took you hostage, didn’t he?”
“It happened because he panicked.”
“Things happen in those frantic moments you can’t plan on. Look what happened a few minutes ago. Carruthers would never have fired if he’d known Spencer was giving himself up. Mark put you all into a volatile situation and any one of you could have been killed. Any hostage situation is dangerous. You never know how it’s going to end.”
Jeff caught the look of apprehension Anna gave him. He was chattering on and on, afraid of what would happen if he stopped. The angry words they said to each other twenty-four hours ago seemed to still stand between them. They’d parted in hostility. Now that the tension of the last nine hours was gone, he wasn’t sure what to do. Probably Anna didn’t, either.
Jeff got to his feet, his teeth worrying his bottom lip. She stood in front of him, apparently trying to read his thoughts. Then suddenly, they were in each other’s arms, and any lingering anger was gone in the joy of being alive and together again. He kissed her ravenously, the tragedy earlier making him need the feel of her vibrant life. The past few hours made him realize how much she meant to him.
After a few minutes, he lifted his head. “Let me take you home. You must be as exhausted as I am, and I’m sure your kids are worried sick.”
The mayor and his wife had left, and Carruthers was giving orders to the officers who came in to take evidence. Jeff got his attention. “Will you see to this, and call the chief to let him know what happened? He said he’d be in his office all night. Tell him I said I’d write a report in the morning. I’ll stop on my way out and make a statement to the news people.”
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