Lockdown

by Traci Hunter Abramson

  “I’ve ordered an autopsy, but I’m not going to be able to tell you much until I get the toxicology report back,” Dr. Zimmerman told Chief Jobeson.

  “Let me know when you find out anything else,” the chief instructed him. “I’ll have my officers give me a report on everything they’ve seen here in the past couple of days.”

  “Does Eric know about this?” Riley asked.

  “Yeah. He heard enough to get freaked out. Dr. Zimmerman gave him a sedative to calm him down. I’m afraid you won’t be able to talk to him today.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll stop by after work tomorrow.”

  “Dr. Gera told me about your visit yesterday,” Chief Jobeson said. “We’ve already conducted a lot of interviews at the high school, but the consensus is pretty consistent. No one seems to know who Eric hung out with.”

  Exasperated, Riley let out a sigh. “Now what?”

  “We’re running checks on everyone associated with the school who owns the type of gun Eric had in his possession. Unfortunately, this kind of search takes time.”

  “Good luck, Chief,” Tristan said. “Let us know if there’s anything we can do to help.”

  “Thanks.” He looked past Tristan to the coroner who was heading toward him and shook his head wearily. “I don’t know what’s happening to this town.”

  29

  The time had come. He was tired of relying on inexperience, and he no longer trusted the respectable Dr. Philip Walberg to keep his cool if he were brought in for questioning. A little snooping around had revealed that the doctor had become more and more careless over the past few days. He imagined it was only a matter of time before his colleagues realized that Philip had been seen shortly before the man in the hospital had been murdered.

  The search for a second suspect in the Rhodes case was high on the agenda at the police station, and eventually someone was going to see what was staring them in the face. He couldn’t believe no one had realized that the only person to gain young Eric’s confidence was his shrink. Not that it mattered. By the end of the day, he would make sure that that fact was obvious and that the case was closed once and for all.

  A knock sounded at his door, and a slow smile crossed his face. “Come in.”

  Philip pushed open the door and stepped inside. He swallowed hard as he took the seat on the other side of his desk. “I got your message.”

  “I’ve decided it’s time I gave you some help. Your limited access to the boy is making your task impossible.”

  Philip’s relief was visible as he let out an unsteady breath. “What are you going to do?”

  “You get me enough of that medicine to kill Eric Rhodes, and I’ll make sure it gets into his IV.”

  “I have it right here.” Philip pulled a capped syringe from his pocket. “I keep trying to find an opening into his room, but the guards are there all the time.”

  “Don’t worry about them. They won’t be a problem for me.” He stood up and relieved Philip of the syringe. “How long will it take for this to kill him?”

  “A few minutes, ten tops.”

  He nodded, pleased with the answer. “Come on. I’ll walk you out to your car.”

  Philip turned toward the door. He took only two steps before stars exploded in his head and he dropped to the floor. Standing above him with a gun in his hand was the man he had trusted to save him.

  * * *

  Riley stiffened when a knock came at the office door. The third course was in its second day of training, and Riley was already bracing for the confrontation that was sure to come. The dorm attack had taken place earlier that morning, and, judging by the excitement of the SEALs afterward, it had been just as successful as the first two.

  Amy still hadn’t returned from her morning errands, so, with a sigh, Riley turned, expecting to greet another angry course participant. A man in his early forties was standing in the open doorway. He was dressed in a suit and tie—not the typical casual wear of their course participants. Curious, Riley stood up. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Riley Palmetta.”

  “I’m Riley Palmetta.”

  “Miss Palmetta, I’m Devon Grier. I work for the governor of California.” He extended his hand in greeting and then drew a business card out of his inner pocket and handed it to her. “I wonder if I might be able to steal a few minutes of your time.”

  “Sure.” Riley nodded at the conference table. “Would you like to sit down?”

  “Thank you.” He pulled out a chair and sat beside her, angling his chair so that he could face her. “I might as well get right to the point. I’m here to offer you a job.”

  “A job?” Riley blinked. “I don’t understand.”

  “Basically, the governor of California wants to develop a course similar to what you are doing here. The man we sent to your course, Chief Brandon Scarbourgh, was very impressed with you. He seemed to think you would be an excellent candidate to coordinate this new program.”

  “Chief Scarbourgh?” Riley’s eyes widened. She remembered the man—as well as the way she had laid into him after the first mock dorm attack. “I didn’t really have that much interaction with him.”

  “Well, he was impressed with you,” Devon told her. “After hearing about the successful resolution to the high school incident here, we believe you could be a great asset in helping us teach our educators and police force how to prepare for these unexpected situations.”

  “I’m flattered, but I really don’t know that I’m ready to move across the country.”

  “I understand you’ll need time to think about it.” Devon stood up and drew an envelope out of his pocket. “Here is the proposed salary and benefits package. I’ll be heading up to Washington DC for the rest of the week, but you can reach me on my cell phone if you have any questions.”

  “Thanks. I’ll think about it.” Riley took the envelope and then shook his outstretched hand.

  “It was nice meeting you.” Devon moved to the door. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you soon.”

  Riley watched him walk out the door just as Tristan arrived. Tristan glanced at Devon and then turned to Riley. “Who was that?”

  “Devon Grier.” Her voice was filled with wonderment. “He came to offer me a job.”

  “That’s great!” Tristan closed the distance between them and gave her a hug. He eased back so that he could look down at her. “Which one? The engineering job in Norfolk?”

  She shook her head, her smile still in place. “Actually, he wants me to head up a new training program. It would be a lot like what I’m doing now.”

  “You would love that.”

  “Yeah.” Riley nodded. “I guess Chief Scarbourgh recommended me.”

  Tristan’s arms dropped to his sides, and he took a step back. “I thought Scarbourgh was from California.”

  “He is.” Riley’s stomach suddenly felt unsettled. “That’s where the job is.”

  “I didn’t realize you were looking for jobs that far away.” Tristan’s lips pressed together into a hard line. “When will you start?”

  Riley’s eyes narrowed. “Tristan, I haven’t accepted the job. I told him I needed time to think about it.”

  Tristan opened his mouth to respond and then closed it again when Seth and Kel walked through the door. He stared at Riley a moment longer before turning to Kel. “I’m going to head out for a run. I’ll see you back here after lunch.”

  Kel just nodded before turning his attention to his computer.

  Tristan was almost out the door before he turned back and spoke to Riley. “I’ll see you later.”

  Riley watched him disappear into the hall, annoyed that their conversation had been cut short. She considered going after him but decided that she needed some time to herself to consider her options. She sat down at her computer, trying to work, but she couldn’t concentrate.

  When the rest of the team arrived and started making plans for lunch, Riley avoided joining them by making the excu
se that she wanted to stop by the hospital and visit Eric. She easily sidestepped their objections that it wasn’t safe for her to visit him alone by reminding them of the guard now stationed at Eric’s door. She didn’t even know if he would be coherent enough to talk to her, but she hoped the drive over there would give her some time to think.

  Dr. Gera had called her the day before to tell her she probably shouldn’t bother stopping by. After the patient next door to him had died, Eric had experienced some kind of paranoia episode. He kept insisting someone was trying to kill him, and he had become so violent toward the hospital staff that the doctors finally had to put him under heavy sedation.

  As she climbed into her car, Riley replayed her conversation with Tristan. He had been so helpful in trying to find job opportunities for her in Virginia Beach that she hadn’t even been looking at jobs in other areas. Had they not been interrupted, she would have explained to Tristan that she hadn’t gone looking for this job. Still, the fact remained that she had yet to find any employment opportunities in Virginia, where he was normally stationed.

  Riley couldn’t imagine how hard it would be on their relationship if she took the position in California, and she had to admit that she no longer thought of her future without Tristan in it. He seemed committed to making their relationship work, and Riley already expected that at some point in the future they would move to the next level and start seriously considering marriage.

  Though she tried not to dwell on thoughts of marriage, she had already found the idea entering her mind more often than she was comfortable with. She had even spent some time praying about the prospect of spending the rest of eternity with Tristan. Now she found herself full of doubts about how she and Tristan could juggle their relationship and both of their careers.

  Wrapped up in her thoughts, she drove out of the parking lot completely unaware of the car that pulled out behind her. Realizing that she needed more time before she faced Eric, she diverted to the shooting range. She pulled into the parking lot and was surprised to see that it was empty. She supposed Oscar had gone to get some lunch. Knowing that he wouldn’t mind her using the range even if he wasn’t there, she popped her trunk and went to retrieve her gun.

  She took a deep breath, trying to push away her negative thoughts as she opened the case that held her pistol. Her shock was huge when she stared down at the empty case. Though she had acquired a permit to carry a concealed weapon, she never took her gun out of the case, except when she came to the shooting range. Still, she riffled through the contents of her trunk just in case she had somehow misplaced it.

  In the corner of her mind, she identified the sound of a car pulling into the lot, but her focus was on the missing gun. Realizing that it was definitely not in the trunk, she slammed the trunk closed and leaned down to scrutinize the lock. Sure enough, she could see little scratches around the keyhole. A sense of uneasiness settled in her stomach. She was convinced now that someone had broken into her car and stolen her gun. Realizing she needed to report the theft, she straightened and moved around the car to retrieve her cell phone from her purse.

  She glanced over at the vehicle that had just parked a couple of spaces away and was surprised to see Victor Cross stepping out of his undercover police car. Rather than open her car door, Riley turned to face him as he moved toward her. “What are you doing here?” she asked, curious. “I thought the police department had its own shooting range.”

  “We do.” Victor’s gloved hands were down at his sides, and now he lifted one to reveal the semiautomatic pistol he held. “I thought you might want this back.”

  Confused, Riley looked down at the gun. She recognized it as the same make as her own, and her eyes darted back up to Victor. “I don’t understand. I didn’t even know my gun was missing until just a minute ago. How did you know it was mine?”

  She started to reach for the gun, then stopped and stared up at him in shock when he lifted it and aimed it at her.

  “You know, it’s really too bad you decided to get involved.” He shook his head. “After you went through the massacre at Oswell, I never thought you would create this kind of trouble.”

  “What are you talking about?” Riley’s heart pounded as she tried to make sense of his words. Panic welled up inside her, and for an instant all she could see was the barrel of the gun, a flash of memory paralyzing her. In that moment she could hear the gunshots. She could smell the blood and the death.

  She blinked furiously, fighting to keep herself in the moment, struggling to find logic when there was none. He was a policeman. Why would he point a gun at her? And how had he gotten her gun in the first place? Rather than answer her question, Victor opened the back door of his car to reveal an unconscious form. Riley stared long enough to recognize Philip Walberg. “Is he . . . ?”

  “Not yet.” Victor Cross shook his head with disgust. “He was a weak man, using that Rhodes boy to pay off his debts.”

  “I don’t understand.” Riley blinked hard, praying for some clarity and guidance. Memories washed over her—the numerous times she had seen Dr. Walberg outside of Eric’s hospital room, the way Dr. Walberg just happened to be going to the high school the morning of the incident. In her mind, Dr. Walberg’s comment to Eric that it was over now merged with the boy’s words just days before when he’d told her, “He said it was over.”

  Riley took a deep breath and turned her head back to look at the detective.

  A slow smile crossed his face. “It seems the doctor was right. He knew you were going to figure it out. It was only a matter of time.”

  She focused on Dr. Walberg once more. He was the one. Eric had been his patient—he’d spent time with him frequently and had the power to influence the boy to act on his hatred.

  Her eyes swept the empty parking lot before settling back on Cross. Oscar was never gone for long. Surely he would return soon. If she could only stall a bit longer. “What does all this have to do with you?”

  “Philip still thinks Eric shot his parents.” His eyes went cold and flat. “You know better. Eventually you were going to help the chief put it all together. I couldn’t have that.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Riley insisted, but she was beginning to. If Eric hadn’t killed his parents, and Victor Cross said that Walberg hadn’t either, then the detective himself must have been the one to pull the trigger. Otherwise, why would he be holding her at gunpoint?

  Cross gave a casual shrug, apparently unwilling to share any more information. He used his free hand to drag Walberg out of the car and onto the ground. Then, without warning, he pointed the gun at the doctor and fired a single shot.

  Riley screamed, and birds in the nearby trees took flight. She took a step back only to bump into her car, and her breath started coming in gasps. Her heart was pounding, and she felt an all-too-familiar panic welling up inside her. She took a step to the side, her mind racing to find any possible escape routes. She knew the odds were low that a shooter would be able to hit a moving target. Of course, those odds didn’t typically include gunmen trained as police officers.

  Her eyes darted to the road. She couldn’t hear anything but the breeze rustling through the nearby trees and her own pounding heart. She sidestepped once more, thinking that maybe she could find safety in the woods, but she knew he wasn’t going to let her get that far. Already he was closing the last few feet between them, the gun aimed at her heart.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to shoot you.” He stepped closer as she turned and tried to run away. Dropping the gun, he lunged at her and grabbed her arm. “This won’t hurt a bit.”

  Riley didn’t know where the syringe had come from, but she kicked and scratched as she tried to break free and keep the needle from piercing her skin. Annoyed, Victor shoved her hard against the car and jabbed the needle into her arm. Riley cried out and managed to knock the syringe to the ground, but it was too late. Only seconds passed before she felt her legs give way beneath her and she slid limply
to the ground.

  “Why?” she managed to ask. “Why me?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he scooped up Riley’s gun and moved to stand beside her. Her body felt like it was floating, as though her arms and legs were no longer attached. Cross took her hand and pressed the gun into it. Guiding her fingers, he helped her squeeze off another shot, and then he kicked the gun several yards away. Then, without a word, he got back into his car and drove away.

  30

  Tristan showered off the dirt and sweat from his run, wishing he could wash away his doubts as easily. As he dressed and headed outside, he kept replaying his conversation with Riley. He knew this job offer was perfect for her, but he didn’t want her to go. His stomach clenched at the very thought of her living permanently on the West Coast while his job kept him stationed in the east.

  During his run he had considered the possibility of transferring to one of the California units. For some reason that thought resulted in as much panic as the idea of Riley moving. There had to be an answer that would work for both of them. He didn’t want to get in the way of her career, or everything might unravel between them before they really got started. He also didn’t want to end up like his father, who had taken second place to his wife’s career until there was nothing left but resentment.

  As hard as he tried to separate his situation from that of his parents, all he could see were the traps. Logically he knew that two people could balance their careers and still have a family—he just didn’t personally know anyone who had succeeded in doing so. The Lamberts had the kind of life he wanted for himself, but Eileen Lambert had chosen to stay home and raise her family. He couldn’t assume that Riley would make that same choice.

  When he thought of his parents, he could look back now and see that his mother had expected his father to make the sacrifices necessary so that she could pursue her career. In the process, she had effectively driven a wedge between them. His parents had never tried to compromise but had instead chosen to just give up. He couldn’t give up.