“Already moving,” he replied.
“Tamm, you fall in behind Book.”
“It’s not going to look right if we have too many people moving into a closed area,” Constance announced. “Keep some distance.”
“Acknowledged,” Tamm said. “Hanging back.”
A minute passed then Constance’s voice came across in a low tone, “There’s a huge crowd at the forest exhibit, and they’re blocking the path. It’s going to take me a minute to get through.”
Book’s voice burped in behind hers, but it was partially drowned out by the sound of the aforementioned crowd. All that really came through was, “Dam-t, -st Man-lay.”
“Say again?”
“The crowd,” he repeated, the transmission somewhat clearer. “I’ve lost Mandalay. She was…”
Before he finished the sentence, the muffled report of something that sounded far too much like gunshots popped loudly from the speaker followed immediately by panicked screaming.
“Shots fired!” his frantic voice fell in behind.
“Everybody move!” the other voice ordered. “Now!”
Seconds later Book’s voice was shouting across the radio again, devoid of all composure, “SHOTS FIRED! MANDALAY’S HIT! OFFICER DOWN!
OFFICER DOWN!”
If adrenalin hadn’t been dumping into Ben’s system before, it definitely was now. He came fully upright in his seat as the frantic chatter continued to burst from the radio.
The device hissed for a second, then we heard Book exclaim, “JESUS CHRIST… JESUS CHRIST… ONE GOT PAST HER VEST! SHE’S BLEEDING BAD! WE NEED PARAMEDICS RIGHT NOW!”
CHAPTER 43:
“GODFUCKINDAMMIT!” Ben yelped the curse as a single word before launching into, “GODDAMN FEEBS CAN’T DO ANYTHING RIGHT! SONOFABITCH!”
I was so dumbstruck that I couldn’t make any words of my own come out of my mouth. I simply looked at him with a horrified expression as the radio continued to belch frantic chatter.
“Book! What is your exact location?!”
“Just outside the forest exhibit! Right before the path splits! Hurry!”
“Found the gun,” Frye’s voice blipped over the air. “But no shooter. The area is clear. She must have dispersed with the crowd.”
“Washburn, cover southeast,” a voice ordered. “If she didn’t go past Book and Frye, then she has to be heading that way. I’m on the main path coming in toward you.”
“Acknowledged.”
“We’re locking down the park,” another voice added. “SWAT will be here in two.”
The device continued to burp and hiss with various voices for a moment, all of them reporting that there was no sign of Annalise. There was a quick burst of silence, then one of the agents came across the speaker, “I’ve got something. Red wig in a trashcan outside the restrooms near the stuffed animal workshop… Be advised the subject may have changed her appearance.”
“WHERE ARE THOSE PARAMEDICS?!” Book’s frenzied words bled through on the heels of the announcement
“Mutherfuck,” Ben muttered, a jumbled mix of fear, anger, and desperation wrapped tightly into his voice. He was already half out of the van as he shouted at us, “Stay here!”
He didn’t waste time closing the door, and the alarm chime was dinging incessantly to warn of the keys in the ignition, adding its irritating insistence to the already chaotic swirl of voices issuing from the radio. The crash I had felt coming was now exploding around me, and the outcome was as bad as I feared, if not worse.
Sirens were filling the night air as they closed in on the park. Their urgent wails were bold punctuation for the overwhelming despair that was starting to tighten its grip around me.
My heart was clogging my throat as I watched my friend take off across the street at a dead run toward the zoo entrance. I still couldn’t manage to form anything resembling coherent sentences out of the distressed thoughts rushing through my already tortured grey matter. I turned in my seat and looked at my wife.
“Gods…” I whispered. “Felicity…”
Instead of finding a similar grief stricken expression on her face as I had expected, what greeted me was a thin smile as she slowly shook her head. She looked into my eyes, then cocked her head to the side and clucked her tongue.
“Chienne damnee,” she said with a fluid Southern accent. “I knew she was going to do that.”
A fresh dose of panic was injected into my veins as the haunting echo in her voice hit my ears. It dawned on me that I should have seen this coming, and that I now knew the reason Felicity had been keeping so quiet. Her body was here, but she wasn’t even present-and hadn’t been for several minutes. Miranda had seen to that. I can only imagine what my expression must have been as the realization washed over me, but whatever it was, it seemed to amuse her.
“Surprised, little man?” she asked.
Next to me the radio crackled. “This is Frye. I’ve got an open maintenance gate on the southeast corner. Washington drive, just north of Concourse.”
“Lawson, your team has the parking area. Did you copy that?”
“Ten-four. There are maybe twenty to thirty civilians on the lot. Parker, Bates, stay with the lot…”
The rest of the broadcast faded into the background as I made a grab for my wife. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen when I got hold of her, but I knew if I didn’t, things could only get worse than they already were. As I twisted in her direction, she jumped back, shifting to the left and out of my reach. My seatbelt snapped tight as it achieved the end of its tether with a jarring stop, biting into the side of my neck and preventing me from moving any farther.
Whipping back around, I fumbled with the latch, trying to pop it loose so that I could pull free of the restraint. But, I wasn’t fast enough. My wife seized the opportunity to scramble to the right, moving directly behind me toward the side door. At the same moment the catch released and I started swinging around again, the sound of the sliding door wrenching open with a heavy thud added itself to the insane concert of noises.
I twisted back around and grabbed for the door handle, but the door didn’t budge. Reaching quickly, I pulled up the lock post, mentally cursing the older van and my penchant for habitually locking doors. The door popped open as I shouldered my way out of the vehicle and stumbled onto the lot. My wife now had a substantial head start, and she was gaining speed.
I took off after her, pushing as hard as I could to catch up. My heart was already racing, but my earlier horror was now replaced by determination as my adrenal gland finally elected to dump its payload into my system.
Felicity was darting across the asphalt, weaving between parked cars with the nimbleness of her petite stature. She didn’t seem to be running from me as much as she seemed to be running toward something.
I heard shouting voices coming from various positions around the lot and the street in front of it combined with a sudden rush of heavy footsteps in the distance. I suspected the FBI team had spotted her and were responding.
My wife swivel-hipped around the end of an SUV, aiming herself toward a petite, dark-haired figure that was walking briskly up the aisle just beyond. I tried to follow but misjudged the gap, catching my shoulder hard against a truck’s mirror bracket. I stumbled, slamming sideways against another car. In that instant I lost sight of my wife, but I could now hear the angry screams of two women engaged in what could only be a fight. I pushed off and continued between the parked vehicles, hooking around the end of the SUV in the direction of the commotion, and launched myself into the aisle.
As I ran out I could see the source of the screams. My wife and the other woman were rolling on the pavement several yards away. I ran toward them as I heard more shouts and pounding footsteps.
I covered the distance as quickly as I could, reaching out as I ran. When I made it to them, Felicity was on top of the other woman with her hands clasped around her neck. A stream of French was spewing from her mouth, and the only word I could recognize was chienne.