by Alana Lorens
Hank stepped just inside the door, refusing the seat Nick offered him. “You heard the call to the Morgans’ house?”
“Yeah. Who’s the gunman? The councilman?” He was only half serious, but from the look on Hank’s face as Nick came around his desk, he realized he’d guessed correctly. “Morgan? Really?”
“Nick, about the hostages.” Hank looked at the floor, and Nick could see Hank’s Adam’s apple move as he swallowed several times. Horror washed over him, an icy bath, as he realized what Hank had come to tell him.
“Suzanne’s there, isn’t she?” As Hank nodded, his eyes full of compassion, Nick felt a huge void open around him and a rushing in his ears. This can’t be happening.
“Hey, Nick? Nick!” In a blur, Hank was next to him, arm around his shoulders. Pain on his cheek told him Hank had slapped him. “Nick, man, get a grip on yourself!”
Nick shook off the dizziness and sat heavily on his desk, taking deep breaths. He put his arm out and grasped Hank’s. “I’m okay. It just wasn’t what I expected to hear.” Dear God, protect her, he prayed, the faith of his grandparents and his parents coming to buoy him with a small bit of hope. “All right, let’s go.”
“Go? Nick, I think you’d better take it easy a minute,” Hank said, trying to hold Nick down in his chair.
No way Hank was going to keep him from this. “I’m fine. I’m going. Are you coming?” He looked at his old partner, forcing a faint smile. “I’m not sure I’d be a very safe driver at the moment.”
“I just came so you’d hear it from a friend, Nicky.” He glanced at the door. “Reichert’ll have my ass for this. All right. Let’s go.” Hank shouted to the office secretary they were leaving, and they grabbed their jackets and headed down the stairs before anyone could stop them.
All the way through Oakland, past the universities, Nick’s mind raced through the possibilities. He was sure Suzanne had not expected Morgan to be at Maddie’s house. Maddie had a restraining order. She must have walked into some unexpected scene, which meant she wouldn’t be armed. Hell, she probably wouldn’t have been prepared at all. That meant she was as vulnerable as Maddie herself. It wasn’t fair, after everything she’d done, saved Nick’s whole career, to lose her now. He loved her more than anything in the world.
“How did they discover Suzanne was there, anyway?”
Hank swerved to avoid someone pulling out. “Apparently Morgan had his wife and daughter at gunpoint when Suzanne came to the house. The daughter escaped and went to the neighbor’s house, and the neighbor called 911. The little girl picked up Suzanne’s pocketbook from the front step on her way out, so they had all her ID.” Hank smiled sadly. “She told the neighbor Suzanne told her to run for help, then kept her father from coming after her. Suzanne saved that little girl’s life.”
Nick leaned back in the seat, trying to relax, trying to keep himself from getting worked up. Suzanne always did have a soft spot for kids. He wanted some assurance that Suzanne could be saved. If Morgan had been pushed far enough to terrorize his family, then he’d crossed that line between safety and insanity. He’d have nothing to lose. Suzanne was in real danger.
“What about the son? Is he there too?”
“Don’t know. I haven’t heard that.”
It was slow going on the Morgans’ street, even though the department badge let them past the protective gate and the subsequent barriers. “Just park anywhere,” Nick barked at last, frustrated. “We’ll walk.”
Hank pulled over immediately, then chased after Nick, who bailed out as soon as the car stopped. “Hey, wait up!”
Nick heard Hank puff up behind him, but he couldn’t stop till he reached Maddie’s new house, the one Greg was barred from, police cars parked at varying angles in front of it. Uniformed officers restrained curious neighbors and encouraged them to return to their homes for their own safety. Surveying the scene, Nick eventually spotted the captain in charge of the negotiating team and made his way to the command post.
“Sansone?” the short, bulky captain said in surprise. Jack Higham had graduated a few classes before Nick at the Academy, and they’d always been on good terms. He lifted his dark glasses at peer at Nick. “This isn’t a downtown case.”
Nick nodded and leaned close. “My—girlfriend—is one of your hostages,” he said quietly, so all the officers wouldn’t hear. Officers were normally discouraged from being involved in cases with family members, and Nick knew by all rights Higham could have him thrown off the scene.
“Son of a bitch.” The words reeked of emotion. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” Nick tried to smile, and almost succeeded. He looked up at the house. Suzanne’s car was parked in the driveway. The closed curtains hid all signs of life. “What’s happening? Where’s the Morgans’ daughter?”
He could see Higham debating whether to fill him in, protocol forbidding it, but at last the captain let his humanity override the rules. “She’s over there in the van, talking to Sergeant Fuller. Best we can determine, her father showed up this morning before she went to school. He went nuts, ranted most of the morning until the attorney arrived, then he grabbed her. It wasn’t long after that the girl managed to escape, when the lawyer managed to create some kind of diversion.”
Nick nodded, clenching his teeth to keep his chin firm. He couldn’t show how close he was to having his heart torn in half. Higham would boot him for sure, then. “Are we sure the women are unharmed at this time?” he said, when he could get the words out without betraying himself.
The captain’s steely eyes stared directly into Nick’s. “We don’t know. The neighbor reported a gunshot about ten minutes ago.” As another officer called the captain to the telephone, he excused himself. “We’ll do the best we can,” he said.
Nick turned away, cold fear in the pit of his stomach. Hank finally caught up with him as the news media vans started pulling up on either side of the barricades. Nick shared with Hank what the captain had told him.
“So what now?”
“Now we wait,” Nick said, staring at the brick residence.
****
Suzanne felt a thud behind her right shoulder into the frame of the couch. By some miracle, Morgan had missed, even at this close range. Was he that drunk, or is it just too dark to tell? The noise of the shot echoed in her ears. If he couldn’t see her well enough to fire accurately, then he probably couldn’t determine if he’d hit her without turning on the light. So she’d just play possum. If he thought she was dead, surely he wouldn’t try to shoot her again.
Or at least she hoped so.
She let out one, long, ragged breath, then tried to make her breathing as shallow as possible, so Morgan wouldn’t realize she was alive. She heard Maddie whimper.
“Now that wasn’t so hard,” Morgan muttered.
From her position on the couch, Suzanne could make out the two of them on the loveseat. Maddie shook her head, begging with her eyes.
He must have put the gun down, because his right hand was empty so he could caress Maddie’s face, just as if there weren’t three layers of duct tape there. “Don’t you see, I’ll have to kill you now. I’m a murderer, Maddie. See what you’ve made me do?” He kissed her forehead gently. “You should have stood by me. That’s what women are supposed to do. Women are supposed to be sweet and obedient, not ball busting bitches like her. But I guess she learned her lesson now. With all the trouble that woman caused us, she still couldn’t stand up to good, old-fashioned Smith and Wesson justice.” He snickered, then burst into a whoop of hysterical laughter. He stood up and grabbed the gun, firing it into the ceiling twice. “Smith and Wesson justice! Makes all men equal!” Chunks of ceiling plaster rained down on them.
Suzanne tried not to flinch. Her ears still rang from the reverberation of the prior shot, and now every sound felt like it came from the depths of a tunnel. He kept giggling, just a little, every so often, and then fell to his knees before his helpless ex-wife.
“You always said
you thought I should treat you with respect, dollface. Let you try something first. It’s finally your chance. You’ll be dead, and I’ll be free. Able to start over again, far away from here. All that money I had squirreled away—oh!” His tone changed to pure treacle. “Did your attorney fail to find my hidden treasures? Oh. Yes she did. But, see, now you won’t have to bother to have her disbarred. I’ve disbarred her for you.” He kissed her again. “You’re welcome.”
Then the phone rang.
The noise penetrated Suzanne’s ears with a pang. The bell apparently did the same for Morgan, because he leapt to his feet and whirled toward the offending sound, gun drawn. I thought Maddie said he’d pulled the phone from the wall, she thought dreamily, trying to focus on Morgan despite the ache in her head.
“It’s my damn cellphone,” he mumbled. “Who’d be calling me now?” He paced back and forth as the ringing continued from the coat tree by the front door. “Maybe it’s the store. If they’ve got a problem, I can handle it and be back to you in just a minute, my love.” The phone continued to summon him, twelve, thirteen, fourteen rings... He lurched across the floor to dig in his pocket for the phone.
“Morgan,” he said. “Who’s this? You’re where?” A long pause was followed by a string of curses as he dropped the phone. He went to the front picture window and pulled the curtain aside ever so slightly. “Motherfucker.” Ducking away from the window, he went back to pacing, then finally retrieved the phone.
A ray of hope lit in Suzanne. It had to be the police. If they were outside, the house would be surrounded, with the SWAT team ready to come in and rescue them. Good girl, Katie, she thought, relief threatening to overwhelm her. It was difficult not to move. Her position cut off the circulation in her hand, and the pins-and-needles feeling in it was becoming painful. Only a little while longer...
“Yeah, so what do you want?” Morgan barked. “Everything’s fine in here. Me and the old lady are just having a little disagreement, that’s all. Nothing we need cops to handle for us.” He listened for a minute, then laughed his cocky laugh. “She’s crazy! You know kids. They don’t understand that mothers and fathers fight over nothing at all. Why don’t you send her back in here, and she can see her mother is just fine.”
Maddie shook her head violently, moaning through the tape. Morgan moved away from her, into the kitchen. Suzanne heard the clink of ice cubes into a glass and took the opportunity to move just a little, so her hand would regain feeling. She wasn’t tied up. So if she had the chance, she’d do what she could to save herself and Maddie.
Listening, she couldn’t believe Morgan was going to stop for a drink, right now. Not that getting ready to face down the whole police department wouldn’t call for a little extra courage, even the liquid kind... The whole police department? she thought with a jolt. Would Nick be there? Cops hung on every word of those dispatchers on the radio. If he’d been there, he must have heard. Would he know she was there? Her lover could be going through the same agony as she, wondering if she’d survive this. She hoped he‘d been busy, distracted—that he’d somehow be oblivious to what had happened. One of them, at least, could be spared this pain.
Morgan lambasted whoever was on the phone, someone obviously insisting on coming in to check on their welfare. Suzanne seized the chance to speak to the bound woman.
“Maddie, I’m all right,” Suzanne whispered as quietly as she could. “Just hang on.”
The woman slumped back in her chair, limp with relief. Suzanne relaxed into her “possum” position.
Morgan’s voice was getting louder. “Who gives a damn if I shoot a gun into my wall? It’s my wall! I paid for it, you bet I did, one way or another!” Another shot. “See, it’s none of your fucking business!” He moved back into the living room rather suddenly, and Suzanne was grateful her timing had been perfect. He’d shoved the gun into the front of his waistband. “You can’t come in and arrest me for shooting my house.” He swirled the ice cubes around in his tall glass, and took a deep gulp of whatever was in it. “No, she can’t come to the phone right now. She’s laying down, resting. My daughter’s disappearance upset her quite a bit.” He listened for a moment, then said, “Yes, I would mind if you came in to check on her. This is still America, last time I heard. You have no business here.”
Obviously agitated, Morgan resumed his pacing. “No, she can’t come to the phone, either. What am I, a Goddamned message service? Well, I don’t really care how that makes you feel. I’m a Pittsburgh city councilman. I’ll have your job if you don’t go away and leave me the hell alone!”
Suzanne watched the man, agonies of nerves grabbing her stomach. What would he do now? Would he get more desperate? Would the pressure of the police outside force his hand, so he’d shoot Maddie? The police evidently wanted proof that she and Maddie were uninjured. If they didn’t get it, what would they do next? She tried to remember news reports she’d seen about hostage situations. Something about loud rock music and tear gas... Or sharpshooters? With dawning understanding, she guessed why Morgan had moved out of the kitchen. He’d been a visible target without the curtains drawn, as they were here. They wouldn’t be able to get a bead on him in this room.
“What protection order?” he snarled. “That’s a bunch of crap, that is... There’s nothing to talk about. All I want is for you all to get the hell away from here. If you don’t...well, maybe then someone is going to get hurt.” He slapped the phone and shoved it in his shirt pocket.
“I should have killed the little bitch first.” Morgan glared at Maddie, then returned to his erratic pacing, walking the length of the living room, muttering to himself.
Suzanne caught snatches of his monologue as he passed by her. He seemed to grasp the reality of his situation, because he was concerned for his own safety. He was trying to work out a plan whereby he could kill Maddie and still escape with his life, but his options had been severely limited by his daughter’s betrayal. Morgan had probably figured he could kill Suzanne, his ex-wife and his child and be long gone before anyone discovered them. At least Katie’s life had been saved.
His mumbled self-argument internal discussion continued for what seemed an eternity. Suzanne breathed shallowly through her discomfort. She couldn’t risk even the twitch of a finger, or he’d take another shot at her. With the adrenaline that must be pumping through his system right now, the effect of the alcohol might be neutralized. The next bullet might kill her.
“Morgan!” The voice boomed from outside, amplified by a bullhorn. “This is Captain Higham. I’m giving you one final chance to release your hostages and come out with your hands up.” There was a pause. “You have thirty seconds.”
“Thirty seconds?” he said, sounding like a little boy caught setting off firecrackers in his grandmother’s back alley. “I can’t decide anything in thirty seconds.” He pulled the cell phone from his pocket, then pushed some buttons. It must have been redial, because he started in on Higham as soon as the call was answered.
“Look here, you idiot. Do you want to get everyone killed? Do you know what that will do to your career?”
He listened, pacing, then burst into a shower of obscenities as he kicked the coffee table. The low table didn’t weigh much, but the corner of it crashed into Suzanne’s leg. She couldn’t hide a moan as the point pierced her skin, but thankfully he was distracted by his argument. She lay there fighting to stay silent.
Hey, maybe I’ll tell him I’d be in less pain if he’d just shoot me.
It was a joke, a bad one, and not funny to anyone else since she couldn’t even breathe it aloud. But the black humor helped her hang on.
“Get me someone with some balls, huh? I can’t negotiate with you.”
Oh sure you can, Suzanne begged silently. Someone needs to get us out of here.
But the truth was, Greg Morgan was right in front of her, off his last nut. Maddie was helpless in every way. The police were all on the far side of a locked door. She was the one with the best chance of
making a difference.
Could that happen without her losing her life?
“Yeah, well, here’s the thing,” Morgan said. “You just don’t seem to believe me. So let me show you what I’ve got up my sleeve.” A nervous laugh. “Or down my pants.” He cut the phone off again and set the glass, now empty, on a table. He pulled the gun out of his waistband and studied it a moment, taking a long breath. “I’ve got to do something.” He cocked it and pointed it at his former wife. “Maddie, I wish there was another way. I know you wouldn’t want to live without me, my darling. Guess we’re both going, now. Don’t see much other way to go. See you on the other side.”
That was it, Suzanne realized. He’d put together the final picture that he wasn’t going to survive this. That meant he had nothing to lose. If someone didn’t intervene right now, they were all dead.
A flashback to those headlines, those phone calls when she’d lost that client years before filled her mind. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t lose Maddie, and she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t.
“No, damn you!” she yelled, shoving herself upward, throwing herself at Morgan. Her leg was half asleep and she stumbled over the table sitting askew between them. His mouth dropped open, and he staggered back as she fell into him. The gun went off once, twice, close to her head, but she didn’t think she was hit. She was deafened, though, the ringing in her ears blocking all other sound. Morgan reeked of sweat and spoiled alcohol. He tried to wriggle out from under her, but she couldn’t move.
Moments later, the front window exploded inward, and the room filled with a bright light. Her ears popped. Suzanne rolled off of the heavy-set councilman and hit the floor, the contact sending waves of pain through her. The floor shook with the pounding of heavy feet, motion all around her, men in uniform, men with guns, but she couldn’t focus. Had he hit her? What had happened? Was Maddie all right? The confusion overwhelmed her, and she faded from consciousness, still trying to put together her situation.
“Suzanne?”