The music embraced them, and everything that’d been hammering in on her seemed to fade away. The stress of this week, the worry, the difficulties with Patrick, all of it washing away. But halfway through the song, the moment evaporated when Aiden got another text and stepped away from her to answer it.
That was it. You don’t stop slow dancing with your date just because you get a text, it doesn’t matter who you are.
When he came back, she said, “Hey, I left my phone at home. Can I use yours for a sec? My dad’s way overly protective.” She shook her head as if she were exasperated at how overbearing he was. “I’m supposed to call. It’s ridiculous.”
“Yeah, sure.” Aiden handed it to her.
“It’s too noisy in here.” She nodded toward the hallway to the restrooms. “I’ll be right back.”
80
The EMTs took over helping Tyree.
We located my SIG near Chekov’s body. The gun was charred, but appeared salvageable and I was glad. This baby had been with me a long time. However, I didn’t trust it until I could clean it.
Ralph joined one of the paramedics in the ambulance to have him treat his arm. He claimed it wasn’t hurting, but I knew he wouldn’t have gone over there unless it did. A lot.
Just before they left for the hospital he lent me his gun. “There might be more of a mess to clean up,” he said. “I expect that back later tonight.”
“No problem. Thanks.”
Fire trucks were on the way to take care of the still-flaming SUV. I filled in the Hostage Rescue Team on what had gone down, then took a seat in my car, where it was a little quieter, and phoned Lien-hua. I told her that Valkyrie, his female accomplice, and three conspirators were dead and that Tyree was in custody.
“I wish I could have been there.”
“Next time around.”
My phone vibrated. I glanced at the screen.
Headquarters.
“Just a sec.” I put her on hold and answered the other call. “Pat here.”
“Agent Bowers,” a female agent said urgently, “it’s Basque. He’s escaped.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Two FBI Police officers and one agent are dead.”
I felt a lash of anger whip through me. “Do we have any idea where he might have gone?”
“There’s an FBI Police car missing. He got a uniform from one of the officers—”
“The car has GPS, doesn’t it?” I said. “Track it through that.”
“We tried that right away. He must have disabled it.”
I pounded the dashboard.
He might just try to flee — or he might try to visit Lien-hua and finish what he started.
I had no idea if Basque might somehow be able to locate my fiancée, but I went back on the line with her and told her to lock down the house, to be ready in case Basque showed up and to call dispatch to get a car over there right away.
Then I phoned Tessa, who was at prom, and not surprisingly, didn’t answer.
I left a voicemail, and then texted her as well.
Then I contacted Metro to have an officer meet her at the school.
Tessa checked the text messages on Aiden’s phone and saw a message from Tymber: Sorry I had to work tonite. So, c u after prom? Can’t wait!;)
A terrible stone settled in Tessa’s stomach.
They broke up. They were supposed to have broken up!
She paced back onto the dance floor, navigated her way through the crowd of dancing students, and held up the phone’s screen for Aiden to see. “What is this?” She didn’t care how many other people heard her. “You’re meeting Tymber after prom? What does she mean — sorry she had to work?!”
“I — no, no, listen it’s not what it… Just let me expla—”
“Oh.” It hit her. “So that’s why you asked me so last-minute. Because she couldn’t make it? I’m, what, your backup plan?”
“It’s not like that, really.” But his expression told her it was. “I like you, Tessa—”
“What would you have replied?”
“Replied?”
By then the other kids nearby had stopped dancing and were watching them to see how this would play out. Four of them were filming it with their phones.
“To her text!” Tessa said. “Replied! If I hadn’t read this first, would you have said you’re gonna meet her after prom? That you can’t wait to see her either?”
“No. I wanted to—”
She got in his face. “I can tell when someone’s lying, and you’re lying. Why wait? Go see Tymber now. You wanted to be with her anyway, so be with her.”
Then she spun on her heels and called over her shoulder, “I’ll find my own ride home.” She lifted both hands and did not give him the peace sign with her fingers. And she didn’t care who was filming it and posting it on the Internet.
“Yeah, well, you’re right!” he shouted to her. There were barbs in his words. “She couldn’t make it so I had to settle for you. So deal with it.”
His words shattered her.
She hadn’t wanted to be right. She’d wanted him to tell her how much he did want to be with her, how he’d chosen her, how he thought she was pretty and smart and there was no one else he wanted to spend the night dancing with — to say all those things and mean them.
Tears formed in her eyes and she did her best to hold them back.
She didn’t realize that she still had Aiden’s phone until she was outside the school. There were kids all around the front of the building and in cars, talking or making out, so she walked off by herself behind the gym so no one could see her if she cried.
A single light on the side of the school cast down a weary glow across the pavement.
Alone.
With Aiden’s phone.
Well, good. She could send a text of her own to Tymber Dotson.
81
After sending the text, Tessa stuck his phone in her purse, then fished out her own phone to delete every text she’d ever gotten from Aiden Ryeson as well as the pictures of them from before they went into the school for prom.
There was a vm from Patrick but she wasn’t in the mood to listen to him checking up on her. However, she couldn’t help but see his text to her: Basque is free. I’m sending an officer to pick you up.
Her heart seemed to stop cold and dead in her chest.
Basque was free? How?
As she was processing that, a cop car pulled up around the corner of the gym. Its headlights were shining right at her and she had to hold up her hand to shield her eyes.
An officer got out and she started toward him. “Just let me text my dad that you’re here.”
But first, she tapped at the phone to listen to the voicemaiclass="underline" “Tessa, Basque escaped. I need you to—”
The officer approached her, but was backlit by the cruiser’s headlights and she couldn’t see his face. He was less than ten feet away when the rest of Patrick’s message came through: “—be careful. He has an FBI Police car.”
By the time the message finished it was too late.
He turned to the side and, though still partly backlit, in the faint light behind the school she saw his face and realized who was coming toward her.
Richard Basque grabbed her arm and when she tried to pull away, he punched her hard in the face, splitting her lip and sending her reeling to the pavement. Her phone went spinning across the asphalt. He brought a heavy booted heel down on it and then he was on her, dragging her toward the car.
“Help!” she cried. But everyone else was inside at the dance or farther around the corner of the building or in their cars in the parking lot.
As she called for help again he punched her in the face once more and she crumpled to the ground, the entire side of her head throbbing in pain.