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Lockdown Page 17

by Traci Hunter Abramson


  “I love you, Riley,” he whispered softly. “You’re more important to me than anything in the world.”

  She looked up at him, and a warmth spread through her. It was too late, she realized. Somehow he had become the center of her life without giving her a chance to prepare for it. She wasn’t sure what words she could say to express what she was feeling. Instead she reached up and touched her lips to his. Fear, doubt, relief—every rambling emotion—poured into the kiss until there was nothing left but their love.

  When she pulled back, she was dazed and dizzy. She was surprised to see that he didn’t look steady either. “I can’t promise I won’t be scared when you’re gone or when I see you risk your life.”

  He combed his fingers through her hair, his face serious. “Can you promise to trust me? Every time a call comes, I’m going to do everything in my power to come back to you.”

  Riley looked up at him, overwhelmed by how much he needed her to give him the answer he was looking for. “I promise I’ll try,” she said quietly. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I’m not planning on getting hurt.” He lifted his hand to her cheek. “And I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

  * * *

  The boy was hurting, but that wouldn’t last long. Philip had spoken with the surgeon who had removed the bullet from Eric’s shoulder, and the nurse was already administering the sedative he had prescribed, along with some pain medication. Before long, the ballistics report would be in and the legal process would begin. If Philip was successful, Eric would be in the mental wing of the hospital before too much longer. If he wrote up the diagnosis convincingly enough, the boy would be on too many drugs to remember anything about their therapy sessions and the plans that had been hatched from them.

  Philip stepped into the hospital hallway and nodded to the two police officers waiting outside Eric’s room. “You can talk to him, but with the medication he’s on I’m not sure he’s going to be very coherent. After a psychotic episode like this, it’s very common to be confused about the sequence of events, even the events themselves.”

  “We understand,” the older of the two officers replied.

  Philip glanced back at Eric and was relieved to see that the sedative had already taken effect. He stepped clear of the door and forced himself to walk down the hall. Though he wanted to be sure the boy didn’t say anything, he had to trust the medicine to protect him—at least for the time being. If the sedatives didn’t keep him quiet, Philip knew he might have to take more drastic measures. And this time, he would make sure that nothing could go wrong.

  23

  Tristan pressed the weights over his head, oblivious to the sweat beading on his forehead. He counted in his head as he lowered the bar and then lifted it again. Eight, nine, ten. He pushed it up the last time and let it fall with a clang onto the metal rests. His hands dropped onto his sweat-drenched T-shirt as he waited for his pulse to steady.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Brent asked from the bench beside him. He had walked into the university’s weight room a few minutes behind Tristan and sensed the tension that was completely out of character for Tristan. Even more out of character was the fact that Tristan was trying to sweat out his problems in a weight room instead of going for a run or to the shooting range.

  Tristan hesitated and then slid forward on the bench and sat up. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

  “Usually when that’s the case, you’re outside running. What are you doing in here?”

  “I already went for a run,” Tristan admitted. “It didn’t help.”

  “Problems with Riley?” Brent asked simply.

  He shook his head. “Not exactly. It’s just . . .”

  “Things are getting serious enough to be scary?”

  “Yeah,” Tristan said with a heavy sigh. “Before I met her, I never really thought about what it would be like to be on the waiting side of our job.”

  “It isn’t easy.” Brent shrugged a shoulder. “At least I know it isn’t easy on Amy, and she isn’t one to complain.”

  “How did you convince her that it was worth it?”

  “I didn’t. She convinced me.” Brent grinned. “I had planned to be all noble. I was going to stay clear of her, let her find some normal guy to marry. Then she hit me over the head with reality.” Brent paused for a moment and let the memory wash over him. “She said that if something happened to me, it would hurt her whether she was married to me or not. She told me that if we were sealed in the temple, at least she’d have me in the next life if something horrible happened.”

  Tristan considered Brent’s words for a minute. “Yeah, but Amy works with our unit. She knows where we are, when we’re coming back. If anyone’s wounded, she’s one of the first to know.” He shook his head. “Riley wouldn’t have any of that information. All I would be able to tell her is that I’m leaving and that I’ll see her when I get back. Hopefully.”

  “That’s true.” Brent’s voice was sympathetic. “Our lifestyle isn’t easy. I imagine it will get even harder when kids start coming along.”

  “Kids?” A new kind of terror filled Tristan’s eyes. “I hadn’t even thought about that.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out, but if you’re serious enough to be talking about marriage, it’s something you need to consider.” Brent stood up. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. I’ve got to get home. Amy’s trying out some new recipe for dinner.”

  “Is this a good thing?” Tristan asked skeptically.

  Brent laughed. “Thanks to Riley, she is getting better.”

  “Hey, Brent,” Tristan called out as he started for the door. “Can we keep this conversation between us?”

  “Sure.” He gave a careless shrug. “But it’s not like I’m keeping any secrets. Everyone already knows how you feel about this girl.”

  Slowly Tristan nodded. Now he just had to figure out what to do with his feelings.

  * * *

  “Are you okay?” Taylor asked, hurrying over to where Riley had been dozing on the couch.

  “Yeah.” Riley rubbed her eyes, realizing that they were still swollen from her crying jag earlier. “It was just a rough day.”

  After they had eaten their Chinese food, Tristan had suggested that Riley take a nap. He had insisted that he needed to get a run in since he had missed PT that day, and he seemed to understand that she needed some time alone. She sat up and looked out the window to see that darkness had fallen. “What time is it?”

  “Eight thirty.” Taylor skirted around the couch and sat in the chair across from Riley. “You’ve been crying. I gather you heard what happened at the high school.”

  Riley nodded. “What did you hear?”

  “Apparently a kid held a class hostage this morning, but the cops shot him before he hurt anyone.”

  Riley nodded, not surprised that the SEAL team hadn’t been mentioned. She imagined the media would eventually find out that their course participants had evacuated the school, but from what she had seen and heard that afternoon, Kel wasn’t anxious for any publicity. She suspected that he would want any news release to go through the Navy to avoid any political ramifications from their involvement.

  “From what I heard, it was a lot different from what happened to you,” Taylor said gently.

  “I know.” Riley combed her hair back from her face with her fingers and then let it fall back into place. “That’s what Tristan said too.”

  “Where is Tristan?”

  “He went to work out. He missed his physical training today because our schedule got messed up.”

  “Why did your schedule . . .” Taylor trailed off as understanding dawned. “You were there?”

  Riley just shut her eyes and let out a sigh.

  “Riley, I’m sorry.” Taylor’s voice was instantly sympathetic. She moved to the couch and grabbed her sister’s hand. “I didn’t have any idea. What were you doing at the high school?”

  Riley too
k a shaky breath, annoyed that the tears were fighting to break free again. “We’ve been using the high school for one of the training scenarios. I stopped by to confirm our schedule for this week, since school’s getting out and we’re switching to a daytime schedule. I was barely in the door when I heard the gunshot.”

  “I thought you were with Tristan this morning.”

  “I was. He was waiting outside. He must have heard it too, because he ran inside before I even got back to the front door.” Riley took another deep breath. “The rest of the squad got there within a couple of minutes.”

  “Thank goodness no one got hurt besides the gunman.”

  “He was just a kid. He didn’t even look like he was old enough to shave.” Riley shook her head. “I wish there was a way I could understand what pushed him to the point of desperation.”

  “Maybe you can.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You mentioned once that you wanted to expand this course to include high school principals and teachers. Maybe the authorities would let you talk to this kid, or at least his teachers. If you could find out what kind of warning signs they missed, it would give you a lot of insight.”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” Riley said, considering.

  “At least ask. After all, you have a master’s degree in criminal psychology,” Taylor pressed. “Maybe talking to him will help you bury some of those old ghosts.”

  “Maybe.” She heard a truck pull up outside. Automatically, she looked at the open window Tristan had climbed through just three hours before.

  “Sounds like your boyfriend’s back.” Taylor stood up and managed to smile. “If he keeps this up, you’re going to be married to this guy before I even leave for Europe.”

  “Married to a Navy SEAL? I’m not ready to think about that right now,” Riley insisted. “Let me get used to being in love with one first.”

  “Okay, but it looks to me like he’s here to stay.”

  Riley stood up. “I’m going to go wash off my face. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Taylor watched Riley disappear into the bathroom as the knock came at the door. She pulled it open, surprised at the weariness in Tristan’s face. “I gather this has been a rough day all around.”

  “Busy, anyway.” Tristan stepped inside and looked around the living room. “Where’s Riley?”

  “She’ll be out in a minute.” Taylor motioned for him to sit down.

  He took his usual spot on the couch and asked, “Did she get any sleep?”

  “Yeah, but she’s pretty worn out.” She sat down across from him. “How was she after the incident at the high school?”

  Surprise flashed in his eyes, and he lifted both hands to rub his face before looking back at her. “I think it hit her harder tonight, when she had time to think about it.” He leaned back against the couch. “Can I ask you something?”

  Taylor nodded, her eyebrows knitting together at the frustration in his voice.

  “When you were growing up, was it hard having your dad gone all the time?”

  “I don’t know.” Taylor shrugged, thrown a little off balance by the unexpected question. “I mean, that’s just the way it was. When Dad was home, we got to spend a lot of time with him, and when he wasn’t, we sent a lot of mail.”

  “I thought maybe that was the source of contention between Riley and your dad.”

  Taylor glanced down the hall and then looked back at him. With a shake of her head, she lowered her voice. “What happened at Oswell really shook my dad up. He wanted both of us to come home and go to college somewhere close by or quit altogether.” She took a deep breath. “It’s like he was so busy trying to keep us close that he didn’t take the time to really understand how much Riley was hurting. She needed him to help her put the pieces of her life back together, but he only wanted to do it his way.”

  The bathroom door opened, and Riley stepped out. She managed a small smile when she saw Tristan. “Hi.”

  “Hi yourself.” Tristan stood up and waited for her to sit down before reclaiming his seat. “I just wanted to check in on you before I headed back to my apartment.”

  Taylor stood up before Riley could respond. “Well, kids, I’m going to my room.”

  Riley watched her disappear down the hall and then turned back to Tristan. “Did you have a good run?”

  “It was fine.” His eyes narrowed as though he were studying her from a new angle. “Have you ever thought about having kids?”

  “What?” Riley’s jaw dropped. Tristan occasionally made complete U-turns in conversations, but never this extreme.

  “You know, after getting married. Do you want kids?”

  “Well, yeah, eventually.” Riley tried to shake her head clear. “Where did that come from?”

  “I ran into Brent at the weight room tonight, and he said something about when he and Amy start having kids. It got me thinking.” He shrugged a shoulder, clearly trying to keep the conversation casual. “That’s something we’ve never really talked about before.”

  “There are a lot of things we’ve never talked about before.” Riley managed a short laugh. “I guess I’ve always assumed I’ll have kids someday. It’s just always been so far in the future that I haven’t thought a whole lot about it.”

  “How many do you want?”

  “I don’t know. I kind of like even numbers. That way everyone has someone to play with. When we were growing up it always seemed like it was two against one in whatever war we were waging.”

  “I can’t imagine you and Taylor fighting.”

  “It was usually us ganging up on our brother,” Riley admitted. “He was quite the pest when he was little.” She angled her head and studied him. “What about you? How many kids do you want? Or do you even want kids?”

  “I never really thought about it before. I guess growing up as the kid that no one really wanted made me wonder why people bothered to have kids in the first place.” He shrugged. “When I think about the few years I lived with the Lamberts, I just remember how much fun it was having lots of people around.”

  “They have the kind of family I always dreamed of,” Riley admitted.

  Tristan grew serious. “The kind where the dad’s always home?”

  “Not necessarily,” she said thoughtfully. “I think it’s more the way their house feels. I felt welcome the moment I walked in the door. It just feels like family there.” She narrowed her eyes. “You never answered my question. How many kids do you want?”

  He thought about it a moment and then let out a heavy sigh. “I think I’d want to take it one at a time.”

  Riley laughed. “That’s usually how it works.” She reached over and gave his hand a squeeze. “I’m glad you came by.”

  “Me too.”

  24

  Chief Jobeson leaned back in his chair as he read the front page of the morning paper. Eric Rhodes’s name had not been released to the press, but the reporters had managed to talk to several of the students who had been held hostage. Unfortunately, the students had been eager to reveal everything they could about what had happened.

  The story of the hostage situation dominated the front page, with a side article about the death of Eric’s parents. Again, no information had been released to the press about the police’s potential suspects, but the reporters had certainly drawn their own conclusions. Since incidents like these were extremely rare in Bainbridge, it was natural to tie the two together. Jobeson himself wasn’t yet sure what to believe.

  Until yesterday, his main focus had been on identifying a gambling ring in the area that had been eluding his department for years. He had felt like he was finally getting close to a breakthrough, but now he knew that the case was likely to be pushed aside for the time being. The reporting requirements alone for the incident at the high school were likely to tie up his staff for days if not weeks.

  The sheer coincidence of the SEALs’ presence at the high school the day before was mind-boggling. He couldn’t deny that the SE
ALs and their police trainees had done an incredible job. When the call had come in requesting backup, his annoyance that they were taking over his turf had lasted a mere ten seconds. Then he’d considered the manpower needed for the evacuation and road closures and had lost all interest in territorial rights. He just didn’t want another Oswell.

  After scanning the main article about the evacuation, he read the piece about the murder victims. His eyes widened when he realized that Eric’s father was not only a schoolteacher but one of the owners of the popular club Crossroads. He considered this new piece of information, figuring that it explained a lot of things, like how a schoolteacher could afford that big house and brand-new BMW Z4.

  When he read further and realized that the other owner of Crossroads was one of his own detectives, he instantly decided to handle this case himself.

  * * *

  Everything was different and yet so much the same. Morning prayer had been offered just like always, except that today the prayer had included thanks for Heavenly Father’s help and guidance in the incident the day before. The first class of the day had gone smoothly despite an increased level of excitement among the course participants over their role in defusing the hostage situation.

  Riley had seen Tristan at lunch with the rest of the gang, and then she had gone back to the office while they staged their afternoon training. She expected he would arrive any minute now that the live scenario overhead had quieted down. She still couldn’t believe she had gotten to the point where she was able to stay inside Sedgely Hall while the SEALs and their students created chaos upstairs. After what had happened the day before, she found she was more comfortable staying in the office with Amy than trying to go out somewhere by herself.

  She supposed she had reverted back to wanting people around her as some kind of safety net, and she had found that watching the course participants storm into the building and up the stairs hadn’t made her relive the tragedy of two years before. Today she had managed to keep her thoughts in the present until she’d seen Tristan moving past their doorway as he observed the students working through the current training objective. Then she hadn’t been able to think about anything except their conversation the night before.

 

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