She smiled and said, “Officer O’Donnell? I’m Dr. Neal.”
He smiled faintly. “Hello.”
“Come in.”
As he stood up and crossed to her, she studied him without seeming to. In his gait she saw calm self-assurance. A man whose career was on the line wasn’t supposed to walk that way.
She stepped out of the doorway to let him into her office, then closed the door behind him. “Please sit down,” she said, gesturing to the patient’s chair.
He took it. She took the one opposite, noting how he looked the room over. She’d already learned that police officers seemed to notice everything. If she asked him, he could probably tell her how many framed diplomas were hanging on the wall behind him. From the way his eyes lingered on the box of tissues sitting on the cabinet beside his chair, she surmised he’d never visited a psychologist before.
She said, “Is it all right if I call you Keith?”
“Yes.”
“My name’s Barbara.” When he nodded once, she added, “I don’t think we’ve actually spoken before. I haven’t been with the department that long.”
“No, we haven’t.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
There was a second’s pause. During it Barbara thought, So this is a police sniper. Captain Smith had said they were a different breed. Her first impression of Keith was that he was quite a bit more restrained than the average person. No, restrained was the wrong word. That implied he was keeping his emotions in check. He didn’t seem to be. He just seemed... cool.
She said, “Do you understand why you’re here?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I don’t want you to worry. I’m not here to judge you. I just want to find out what happened. See if we can figure out where the trouble started.”
“I know just when it started.”
“Really? When?”
“Back in March. The hostage situation on Seventh Avenue.”
Barbara remembered it. She would have even if she hadn’t read the official reports of that incident earlier this morning in preparation for this session. Hostage crises didn’t happen every day in Miami.
But she said, “Tell me about it.”
I filed a report about it. If you really want all the facts you should probably read that. But I guess you want to hear it from me, right?
Okay. That incident was a workplace shooting. A guy named Guinness had a problem with his boss, so he went to work one day with a gun in his pocket. He took it out and started yelling. Probably just wanted to scare his boss, but somehow or other he got carried away and shot him. Then he wouldn’t let anyone leave. I mean the people who hadn’t snuck out when he first pulled the gun. He had nine hostages in there with him, plus the boss, who was dead.
I got there with the team — the Special Response Team. When we got there the street was cordoned off and the building had been evacuated. I set up in a building across the street, in an office on the fourth floor. We’d evacuated that too. I had a nice view of the whole office Guinness was in. It was a row of rooms with big windows facing me and he hadn’t thought to close the blinds. I set up first. Dean — Dean Farleigh. You know him? He’s the other sniper on the team — we trade off on two-hour shifts. I took the first one.
So I was watching Guinness through the scope. He was twitchy, pacing back and forth. You could see he was trying to think. He was in over his head and he knew it. I was only like sixty yards away, and from there a sniper scope gives you a real close look. I could see the beads of sweat on his forehead. I could see his eyes darting around, looking for a way out of there. But he never looked my way. He stayed away from the windows, so I guess he was clearheaded enough to be afraid of getting shot by someone down in the street. But he never glanced at my window, which he might have done, since I had it cracked open. I was set up a little ways back from it, lying prone on some desks we’d pushed together. And we had the lights off. So he didn’t know I was there. I could see him but he couldn’t see me.
I could see the other people in the office too. The hostages. Most of the time I’ve got a better view of the scene than anyone else so I do surveillance, especially early on, before I have a green light and when it seems like there’s still a chance we might be able to wrap things up peacefully. That’s how it was those first two hours. Guinness was still talking to Barry then. Barry the negotiator. I was making reports through my headset to Sergeant Erb. He was the supervisor on the scene. I was checking out the hostages, to see if any of them were wounded or anything. That’s when I saw her.
I mean I saw her a couple of times, put my eyes on her and moved on. But then I started to notice her — how beautiful she was. She had dark hair. It was brown but a brown that’s so dark it looks black. And it had this shine to it. The light shone off it like light shines off the curve of a waterfall, you know what I mean? Her eyes were brown too. I don’t know how to describe the color of them, or the shape of her nose and her mouth or anything like that, but she was beautiful. My eyes kept coming back to her.
That’s a big deal. I mean I had a good excuse. Guinness was still pacing around, and sometimes he’d walk past her and out of sight into some dead space behind an interior wall. I had to keep my scope where I last saw him and she was right there, sitting on the floor with the other hostages. But she was breaking my concentration. Sometimes even when Guinness was in sight at the other end of the room I’d be thinking about her, wanting to look at her again.
She looked scared. She must have been crying before I got there because her makeup was smeared and her nose was red. You know in a situation like that she must have been afraid she was going to die. I didn’t want that to happen. That’s a big deal too. That’s not how you’re supposed to think. You’re supposed to keep your eyes on the bad guy, watch what he does, and if he does something actionable, get ready for the green light, because when you get it you have to take him out before he can do anything else. But you’re not supposed to, you know... relate to the hostages.
Guinness didn’t do anything during my shift. When Dean set up at another window I got up to stretch and move around. I went downstairs to talk to Sergeant Erb.
I asked him how it looked. He said, “I don’t know. He’s still talking, but it’s all Barry can do to keep him calm.”
I said, “Did he say anything about having a grudge against anybody else in there?”
“No,” Sergeant Erb said.
I was relieved. I was thinking about that woman.
Instead of walking around some more and getting loose, I went back up to my post again right away. Dean had a pair of binoculars up there that he’d been using while I was on station, so I got them and stood watching Guinness and the woman. She was starting to calm down a little. Actually it wasn’t calm — she was starting to go numb. Shock was kicking in. She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes partway. If you didn’t know any better you’d think she was about to fall asleep. But it was shock. I kept watching her, and Guinness, but her more and more. When she pulled up her legs and wrapped her arms around them, my eyes kept going to the fourth finger of her left hand. You know, I was making sure I’d seen right, that she didn’t have a wedding ring on.
I knew this wasn’t right, so I tried to stop watching. I put down the binoculars, but then after just a minute or two I brought them up again. I did that a couple of times. Then I put them down and started pacing the room. Dean told me to knock it off, I was distracting him. So I went out in the hallway.