28
3:14 P.M.
Theresa watched these negotiations closely while listening with half an ear to Jessica Ludlow. Like a child in class, the young woman took advantage of the lull in their captors’ attention. “At least I found a decent day-care situation for Ethan. Our neighbor recommended her, and she’s really good, feeds them lunch and everything, but she’s real firm on not taking any sick kids, so when he looked sniffly today, she said he couldn’t stay.”
Lucas and Bobby conferred over Cavanaugh’s offer. She expected Lucas to refuse it, but he had deferred to Bobby’s wishes. This didn’t make sense to her. Lucas had been so strong-minded all day… Had he lost his nerve with the end in sight, figured out that it would not, could not, end well for him? Or had he been deferring to Bobby all along?
“I wasn’t real big on working at all. I’d rather be home with him. I had a part-time job in Atlanta, and that was perfect-an hour or two three times a week, enough to get me out of the house and bring in a little extra money, but not enough for Ethan to really miss me.”
Bobby returned to the phone, then handed it over to Lucas. Now Theresa could hear every word, but they still did not make sense. Why would Lucas agree to this? Pulling off an escape with the two of them would have been extremely difficult; by himself, impossible.
Unless he had never intended to escape.
“But Mark insisted. He insisted on a lot of things. He assumed because I was born in Georgia that I was some sort of barefoot high school dropout.” She measured out a spoonful of cherry-fla-vored cough syrup for Ethan to take and rubbed his back. “It’s okay, honey. We’ll see Daddy again soon. Do you want another fruit roll?”
“I can’t believe this. He’s going to come here!” Theresa exclaimed softly.
“Who?” Jessica Ludlow asked.
“The hostage negotiator. He’s going to walk Bobby’s brother over here. I can’t believe that.”
“Why not?”
“They’re not supposed to get involved-the negotiators, I mean. They always stay on the phone. He’s not supposed to put anyone at risk, even himself, and definitely not a civilian like Bob-by’s brother.” According to his book’s table of contents, Cavanaugh had devoted an entire chapter to the topic of acceptable risk. Had he become desperate for a solution? Or did he know something she didn’t, such as when the explosives were due to go off-and that the answer was soon.
The younger woman pulled her child closer, letting him smear her sleeve with his thin sheet of strawberry gel. “Is something bad going to happen?”
Theresa tried to sound more positive for the girl’s sake. “No, it will work. Cavanaugh must believe it can save us or he wouldn’t do it.” The man had his record to think about.
“They’re going to give up?” Jessica asked.
“Only Bobby. Lucas isn’t the type to give up.” But he was the type to cut his losses. Perhaps he realized that he couldn’t fight Bobby and the cops both and so gave in to his partner’s wishes. “I wonder what they’ll do about the car.”
“What about it?”
“It’s Bobby’s car, and he made a pretty big deal about it. But Lucas will need it to escape.” She also wondered what they would do about the explosives.
“What did you say, Theresa?” Lucas’s voice cut through the air like a deadly missile. “I don’t like being discussed behind my back.”
“You said you’d release four people when Bobby leaves. Let Jessica and the baby be among them.”
“What about me?” Missy asked. “I have a baby, too.”
Lucas stood in front of Theresa, giving her the considering look she had learned to recognize. “Interesting, Theresa. You don’t ask for yourself, only for someone else. Very altruistic.”
Brad said, “What is this, women and children first? What kind of last-millennium shit is that?”
Lucas pivoted so that the barrel of the automatic rifle pointed at Brad. “You’re not much of a gentleman, are you, Brad?”
“Why does a kid have more of a right to life than an adult? Or some bitch more than me?”
How do you decide who lives and who dies? Had Cavanaugh decided? Had his answer prompted this new strategy?
“Let me go.” Brad would not give up, and, Theresa admitted to herself, why should he? “Just. Let. Me. Go.”
Lucas raised his hand. “How many people think I should ship Brad out of here if only so we won’t have to listen to him whine anymore?”
No one moved. The other people in the lobby had been through too much that day to joke about anything.
“Then listen up. You’re all staying. I’m going to get rid of the three goons tied to the teller cages over there, bless their little hearts.” He gestured toward the three security guards. “They’re going to suffocate if they can’t lower their arms soon anyway. And Theresa.”
She started. “Why me?”
“I have my reasons. You can thank me later.” He reached down and, with a grip like a screw clamp, pulled her to her feet in one motion. “But I need your help on something first.”
Brad continued to protest. “Come on!”
“Stop whining, Brad. And don’t nobody think that you can use this as a diversion. You move out of line, you get shot.”
Theresa couldn’t guess Lucas’s reasoning. He seemed to want to remove all law-enforcement personnel from the room. Did he think they-three trussed-up security guards and a science nerd-could overpower him, once left without Bobby?
He took the precaution of tie-wrapping her hands behind her back. Though this changed very little about the situation-she still could not run without getting shot-it made her feel more vulnerable than she would have believed possible. He also slung the automatic rifle over a shoulder and pulled one of the guards’ handguns from the duffel bag; the pistol pressed easily into her spine. Then he walked her over to the small glass door, still propped open, and positioned them at an angle so that both the wall and her body blocked him from gunfire. He could see out, over her shoulder. A slight turn of his head and he could keep track of the hostages. Then Bobby skittered to the opposite side of the door, mirroring them.
No one appeared in the street outside, only wavering mirages of heat, shimmering up from the asphalt.
Cavanaugh’s book prohibited bringing family members to the scene. Would they have a cop playing Eric’s role? If so, he would never fool the man’s own brother-unless Cavanaugh only intended to get close enough to get a good shot at Bobby. The robber had kept himself out of the snipers’ scopes all day, and this ploy would draw him into the open, with Lucas nearby, and only her body blocking him from a kill shot. She began to tremble.
“What’s the matter, Theresa?”
“I’m scared.”
“Why?”
“I’m afraid they’re going to shoot at you and hit me.”
His left arm slipped around her waist, and his hips and thighs pressed against her rear end. Her bound hands were caught between them, the plastic straps biting into her flesh. He rested his chin on her shoulder, lips next to her ear. “That’s why we’re going to stick together, so close that they won’t even try. You don’t mind, do you? I mean, about me being so close. I don’t expect you to be too happy about facing the snipers.”
Bobby rested his back against the cool marble wall. “You shouldn’t be huggin’ up some other girl.”
They sounded relaxed for two guys about to take on three different police agencies, but she could feel the tension ripple through every muscle in Lucas’s body.
“This isn’t huggin’. This is self-preservation.”
“Call it what you like, brother. I ain’t the one you’re going to be explaining it to.”