If only, if only… How often people blamed themselves for some inconsequential decision that changed the course of their lives. He hoped Mrs. Colson wouldn’t have to live with terrible repercussions just for leaving her son with a babysitter for a few hours.
“How well do you know Ronnie and Pam?” he asked, more to get her to stop crying than for any desire to know.
“I went to high school with Pam. We’re good friends. Ronnie is a few years older. She was crazy about him when they got married, but her life with him hasn’t been easy. He’s never been good with money. But I never thought he’d do something crazy like this.”
Earl’s voice returned. “You know what, Ronnie? I wonder if maybe you’ve been talking to the wrong guys at the bank. Who did you say your loan officer was?”
“Jerry Mayes.”
“Uh-huh.”
Thirty seconds ticked by and Earl didn’t add anything to that uh-huh.
“What? What do you know about Jerry?”
“Oh, I don’t know him all that well, just a little….”
Again, the long break.
Earl’s voice, all the gentleness gone, suddenly commanded Frank over the radio. That meant he’d put his own phone on mute so Ronnie couldn’t hear. “Get someone from the bank on the line.”
Frank knew Earl didn’t have long to talk. Ronnie couldn’t suspect that they were communicating behind his back. He needed to tell Earl about little Henry. “Will do. But listen, Earl. One of the kids, Henry Colson, has epilepsy. He needs to take his meds by four-thirty or he could have a seizure.”
“Pam knows about it,” Leandra Colson chimed in. “But I told her I’d be back long before then.”
Earl swore, but he didn’t lose his composure. “Okay, I can use this. Just get me someone from the bank who knows something about Ronnie’s loan. If Ronnie thinks we’re putting something over on him, then all the trust I’ve built up will be lost.”
Earl’s voice was immediately replaced by Ronnie’s. “That Jerry Mayes is a snake in the grass. He tricked me into signing those loan papers. He never told me I could lose my house. When the revolution comes, those bankers are all gonna die.”
“Wow. That’s a problem.” Earl’s voice had returned to a soothing murmur.
Ronnie continued to vent his rage while Frank used Leandra Colson’s phone to call the bank. While Ronnie was on a long rant, Earl muted him again and Frank delivered the update.
“I’ve got a bank VP lined up to talk to Ronnie—Curt Blythen. Try for a deal. Tell him to send Henry out and he can talk to the banker.”
“Okay, Ronnie,” Earl interjected when Ronnie paused for breath. “I’ve found someone at the bank who’s willing to talk to you. Curt Blythen. He’s Jerry’s boss’s boss. He’s a man who can make a deal, know what I’m sayin’?”
“Ha! I don’t trust any of those bastards.”
“Well…see, I’m thinking if you talk to Curt, you’ll really show Jerry a thing or two. You’ll show Jerry you’re a man who goes straight to the top.”
Long silence.
The seconds ticked on unbearably. Couldn’t Earl goad him on a little more? But that’s where Earl showed his talent. He knew the next move had to come from Ronnie.
They waited.
“Humph. Maybe.”
Earl must be feeling the same elation that rose in Frank’s chest, but he did a great job of keeping it out of his voice. Earl’s next words were spoken ever so casually. “So I helped you out Ronnie. Now you gotta help me out.”
“I’m not coming out just cause you say you got some banker on the line. No, sir.”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t expect that. But we need to cooperate to make this happen. I’d like you to show me a sign of good faith. Can you consider that?”
“Good faith? Like what?”
“I need you to send Henry Colson out. That little fella needs to take his medicine.”
“That’s a lie. You’re trying to trick me.”
“I wouldn’t lie to you, Ronnie. Ask Pam about it. She knows about Henry’s medicine.”
There was some garbled conversation away from the phone, but Frank could distinguish the higher pitch of Pam’s voice. Then Ronnie came back on the line.
“Pam says he’s got some disease that makes him shake. She’s worried he might have some kinda fit here.”
“His momma is waiting for him up the drive. She’s got his pills. So you just send him out and tell him to walk on up the driveway and his mom will be waiting for him. Can you do that for me?”
Silence.
“This could be a trick.” Ronnie spoke with his usual belligerence, yet Frank could hear a hesitation, a longing in Ronnie’s voice.
“Now Ronnie, you know me. Even on April Fool’s Day I never can come up with any kinda trick that anyone would believe. Guess I’m just not a tricky person. I’m more like a problem-solving person. ‘Member that time we had a problem dividing up that bear that you and my cousin both shot?”
“Ha! I forgot about that, but you’re right. You were the one who figured the best way to do it. Me and ol’ Ralph had too many beers to think straight.”
Another stretch of silence. Frank was ready to crawl out of his skin. The clock inched closer to four.
“So what would happen?” Ronnie finally asked.
“You’ve been telling me all about your issues with the bank, so I figured, let’s get someone at the bank who can fix it all up, right?”
Frank thought Earl’s voice sounded as soothing as the music his dentist played in the waiting room.
“Right. And I can talk to him if I send Henry out?”
“Yes.”
“But don’t you go getting’ outta that truck, you hear me?” Ronnie’s voice escalated to a screech. “If anyone comes toward me, I’ll shoot this kid, I’ll shoot ‘em all!”
A moment later, a tiny figure in a red striped t-shirt stumbled onto the front porch. He looked around in confusion, then spotted his mom waving from the driveway. His little legs pumped furiously as he ran up the hill.
Ronnie’s gun was trained on him.
Chapter 6
Leandra Colson caught her son in her arms.
One safe.
“Hello, Mr. Gatrell. Curt Blythen here, senior vice president at Adirondack Savings and Trust.” The bank vice president stepped up to do his part. Frank had coached him on what to say: no trying to explain the bank’s policies, no extravagant offers to forgive the entire loan. Neither would go down well with Ronnie. Blythen’s job was to listen and reassure. Then, when Earl judged the time was right, they would make an offer that Ronnie could get only if he released all the other hostages.
The man had clearly spent years in sales and customer service. He had a smooth, confident patter would make anyone believe their problems were history. Soon Frank felt secure enough to turn his attention to the mob forming behind his patrol car. There were now five kids inside the house, but a gaggle of parents, grandparents, siblings, and neighbors had gathered, some in concern, some in morbid curiosity. The two state troopers who had finally arrived were having difficulty containing them.
“What about our kids? Why did you let him get away with releasing just one?’
Mothers clung to one another weeping and fathers shook their fists. One man had a Glock in a holster at his waist. Frank knew there were rifle racks in some of the pick-ups parked along the drive.
“This is a negotiation, folks. We have to give a little to get more in return.”
“Why are you up here and letting a twenty year old kid handle the tough work? I read in the Mountain Herald that Earl Davis just graduated from the police academy last week.”
“I’m tired of waitin’! We should just charge down there and storm the house.”
“Don’t talk like a damn fool.” Another father shoved the last one who’d spoken. “He’d kill us and kill the kids too. Earl got Henry out. Let’s see what he can do with the others.”
“A vice preside
nt from the bank is talking to Ronnie on the phone. Soon, we’ll offer Ronnie a deal,” Frank said. “Try to be patient just a little longer.”
Frank heard another car screech into the driveway. Soon, state police Lieutenant Lew Meyerson elbowed his way through the crowd to Frank’s side. He kept moving, pushing Frank away from the parents. Frank backed up, but every step added to the knot of tension in his gut.
“What the hell is going on here, Bennett?” Meyerson’s hot breath scorched Frank’s ear. “I hear you let that rookie of yours go rogue. Get him outta there.” Meyerson intentionally raised his voice. “I’ve got the state hostage negotiation team on the way.”
“Thank God!” someone in the crowd cried.
That rookie of yours. Lew knew damn well what Earl’s name was. “How long ‘til they get here?” Frank asked. “Because Earl’s already managed to get one kid out. A sick kid.”
Meyerson shifted his weight and glanced at his watch. “Maybe forty minutes.”
Frank knew it would be more than an hour. The team was based in Lake George, seventy-five miles away.
“Forty minutes!” a mother shrieked.
A father pushed his way into the discussion. “We can’t sit on our asses doing nothing for forty minutes. He’s got our babies in there.”
“An untrained rookie is not qualified to manage this situation. It requires a team of expert—”
Leandra Colson stepped forward, Henry clinging to her leg. “Henry says Ronnie keeps talking about shooting his gun. He says the other kids are crying and that makes Ronnie mad.” She stroked her son’s hair. “He says you have to help his friends.”
Just then, Ronnie appeared on the front porch. He had Pam in a chokehold with a gun pressed to her temple. “Come on out here, kids,” he shouted through the open front door.
No one emerged.
Pam squirmed in her husband’s grasp. “You’re scaring them, Ronnie. They won’t come out.”
“Well then, you better find a way to make them come.” He shook her by the neck so that her feet left the ground. “You’re the big childcare expert, right?”
She scratched at his powerful arm.
“Let Pam go in the house and bring the kids out, Ronnie,” Earl called out.
“I’m not lettin’ her go. She’s stayin’ with me. This is her home too. It’s her duty to stand by me while I fight for what’s mine.”
Frank watched the struggle on the porch through binoculars, Meyerson silent beside him. Pam’s face was red and her hands clutched at her husband. Suddenly, she went limp in his arms.
Frank tightened the focus. Had she passed out? Had he cut off her air supply?
The change startled Ronnie and he glanced down. His grip loosened.
Pam gulped in some air and rubbed her neck. Then she used the opportunity to speak to Ronnie. Frank could see her lips moving but no one could hear what she was saying. Ronnie appeared to be listening, and eventually he nodded his head. He stepped to the side of the front door and let go of Pam, but he kept the gun trained on her head. He was out of sight of anyone indoors, as Pam stood in the doorway.
“Ava,” she called. “Ava, I need you to help me.”
“Ava is the oldest of the girls Pam watches,” Leandra Colson volunteered. “Pam calls Ava her little mother’s helper. If she can get Ava to come out, the others will follow.”
Pam got down on her knees and spoke through the screen door. They couldn’t hear what she was saying or see if Ava was on the other side of the door. Minutes ticked by.
Then Pam stood up. Ronnie tensed, using both hands to steady the gun pointed at her. The screen door opened, and a little blond head peeped out. Pam had positioned herself between Ronnie and the child. She pointed up the hill to where the parents stood waiting.
“You’re going to play Follow the Leader, everybody. Ava is going to lead the way up the driveway to your parents’ cars. I need everybody to follow her, okay?”
Pam leaned forward to hear something one of the kids said. “Yes, I know the rule is that you’re not allowed to leave the yard unless you’re with an adult, but we’re changing the rule for today only. Today, you can leave with Ava. Ready?”
Ava stepped out and extended her right hand behind her. Another little hand reached forward and grabbed it. Ava tugged and a kid with a mop of red curls followed. He clutched a little blue bag of cookies in his other hand.
“Look up the hill, kids. Look at the moms and dads.” Pam was clearly trying to distract them from the sight of Ronnie and his gun. Ava marched forward, but one of the little boys who came out made the mistake of glancing to his right. His mouth formed a perfect O of terror and he froze.
These were kids who knew about guns. Their fathers were hunters. If they’d been raised right, they learned at an early age that you never point a gun at anything unless you intend to shoot it.
Frank’s hands squeezed the binoculars. He found himself praying because there was nothing else he could do. Please, God, let him keep walking. Give him the strength not to cry.
Ava chose that moment to look over her shoulder. “Teddy, move. Stick with me.”
And Teddy moved.
The two minutes required for the kids to march up the hill felt like an eternity. When Pam saw the last of the kids embraced by their parents, she turned and picked something up from the porch floor.
It was the phone Ronnie had been using to talk to Earl. In a moment, they could hear Earl’s phone ring, and then Pam’s voice piped into the patrol car.
“I’m walking out of here, Ronnie. You can shoot me in the back if you want to. But just consider this: once you kill me, those cops are going to strafe this house with bullets. You won’t have a body left to bury, just parts. And your son will be an orphan. And he’ll know his dad murdered his mom. And no one will want a kid whose father is a crazy murderer, so RJ will have to go live in a group home, probably in Albany or Plattsburgh or maybe even New York City. And RJ’ll know it was you who sent him there.”
And then Pam tossed the phone onto a porch chair, turned her back on Ronnie, and started walking.
“Pam? Pam! You get back here!” They could hear Ronnie’s voice both in real time, and a fraction of a second later coming through the radio.
Ronnie had his gun trained on Pam’s back.
Time stopped. No one spoke. Parents turned their children’s heads and backed away from the scene.
Would talking to Ronnie now make the situation better or worse? The decision was all on Earl. It wasn’t fair. Earl had done a magnificent job, but now if he acted—or didn’t act—and Pam was shot, Earl would blame himself.
Utter silence. Even the birds were still. Pam walked steadily up the hill with no more urgency than if she were going to get the mail.
Don’t speak, Earl. Watching Pam, Frank suspected that maybe she knew what she was doing. She’d been unwilling to take any chances with the kids’ lives, but she must have been fairly sure that the threat of their son being sent to a group home would get to Ronnie. Still….
She kept walking at an even pace, her tightly pressed lips the only indication of her fear.
Don’t walk in such a straight line. Weave back and forth. You’ll be harder to hit. Frank willed the message to her, but she continued on a direct path.
Ronnie kept his gun trained on her. The further up the hill she got, the less likely he would be to hit her with accuracy. Frank wondered how good a shot Ronnie was. When he’d shot at Frank, had he deliberately missed?
The radio was silent. Earl had clearly decided not to risk provoking Ronnie.
Good.
Pam was just twenty feet away from the safety of the trees when the shot rang out.
Everyone screamed.
A staccato burst of gunfire reverberated through the valley.
“Get back! Get back!”
Pam put on a burst of speed and sprinted like an Olympian toward them.
But Frank had seen Ronnie’s gun as he fired the shots. It had been
pointed up in the air. That last blast was just a blast of bravado. One last, childish, “you’re not the boss of me” display.
She sank to her knees in the grass. Frank helped one of the EMTs lift her onto a stretcher.
“She’s in shock. We need to check her out,” the EMT said.
But Pam grabbed Frank’s hand before she was wheeled away. “I want Ronnie kept away from me,” Pam said. “I can’t take this anymore.”
“Don’t worry, Pam. They’ll take him to the hospital for a psych evaluation.”
If the state troopers don’t shoot him. If he doesn’t shoot himself.
“And he won’t get out after that,” Frank continued. “He’s going to jail.”
Her grasp on his hand didn’t loosen. “That’s not enough. I want one of those, whattya call it? Orders so he can’t come near me or our son.”
“A restraining order.”
“Yes. He’s ruined my life. Taken everything and wasted it…my love, my house, my money, and now business, my reputation. I never want to lay eyes on him again.”
Chapter 7
And then there was only Ronnie.
“We have an hour until sunset. I’m not letting night fall on that house so that Ronnie can slip away into the woods,” Meyerson said. “We’re done playing this game. Shoot a tear gas canister in there and be done with it.”
“I’d prefer for him to come out of his own free will,” Earl insisted over the radio.
Meyerson scowled, but he was hardly in a position to disregard Earl after all his successes. “Try one more time. Then we’re going in.”
“Ronnie, we’re making progress toward a good outcome here,” Earl said. “It’s time for you to come out of the house and lay down your weapon.”
“No way. They’ll shoot me. I know they will.”
“I won’t let that happen, Ronnie. I promise. But you need to lay down your weapon and come out with your hands up in the air, you understand?”
“I did everything you asked. I let the kids go, and Pam too. You can’t arrest me,” Ronnie screamed.
False Cast: a small town murder mystery (Frank Bennett Adirondack Mountain Mystery Series Book 5) Page 4