Robert Crais - Hostage

“Is he bleeding?”

“Not anymore. He just won’t wake up. I’m really scared.”

“How about your sister? Is she okay?”

Maddox said, “Ask him does he know the subject locations.”

Talley raised a hand, the boy was still talking, saying something about his sister.

“What was that, Thomas? I missed that. Is she okay?”

“I said she won’t leave. I tried to get her to leave, but she won’t without our dad.”

Martin plucked at him.

“Can he get out? Ask him if he can get out.”

Talley nodded.

“Okay, Thomas, we’re going to get you out of there as fast as we can, but I want to ask something. You’re alone in your room on the second floor, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Could you let yourself out your window if we were down below to catch you?”

“They’ve got the windows nailed shut. But even if they didn’t, they could see me.”

“They could see you climbing out the window even though you’re alone?”

“We have security cameras. They could see on the monitors in my folks’ room if they were looking. They would see you sneaking up to the house, too.”

“Okay, son, one more thing. Dennis told me that he had set up the house to burn with gasoline. Is that true?”

“They’ve got a bucket of gas in the entry hall. I saw it when they brought me downstairs. It really stinks.”

Talley heard brushing sounds on the phone, and the boy’s voice dropped.

“They’re coming.”

“Thomas? Thomas, are you all right?”

The boy was gone.

Martin said, “What’s happening?”

Talley listened, straining now, but the line was dead.

“He said they were coming, then he hung up.”

Martin took a deep breath, let it hiss out.

“You think they caught him?”

Talley closed the phone and put it away.

“I don’t think so. He didn’t sound panicked when he shut the phone, so I don’t think he was discovered; he just had to end the call.”

“Was Rooney telling the truth about the gasoline?”

“Yes.”

“Shit. That’s a problem. That’s a fucking big problem. All we need is a goddamned barbecue.”

“He also said that there’s a video security system. That’s how he saw your people approaching the house.”

Martin turned to Ellison.

“Have the I.O. check the phone lines to see if there’s a security feed. We might be able to back-trace it to the provider and find out what we’re dealing with.”

Talley started to say that his people had already come up empty with that, but he let it go. If it was him, he’d doublecheck, too.

“He says the father is injured. That’s why he called out, to say his father needs a doctor.”

Martin’s expression turned grim. She hadn’t heard that part.

“First the goddamned gas, and now this. If the man is in imminent danger, we might have to risk a breach.”

Maddox shifted, uncomfortable.

“How’re we gonna breach knowing this guy can see it coming, him with gasoline ready to go? We’ll get people killed.”

“If we have someone dying in there, we can’t ignore it.”

Talley held up his hands like he was pushing them apart.

“The boy didn’t say anyone is dying, he just said the man is hurt.”

He repeated Thomas’s description of Walter Smith’s condition. Martin listened, head down, but glancing at Maddox and Ellison from time to time as if to gauge their reactions. When Talley finished, she nodded.

“Well, that’s not a lot of information.”

“No.”

“All right, at least we know we’re not talking about a gunshot victim here. Smith’s not in there bleeding to death.”

“Sounds like head trauma.”

“So we’ve got a possible concussion, but we can’t be sure about that. We can’t very well call Rooney back to ask about the father. He might get it in his head that one of those kids is calling out.”

Talley had to agree.

“We have to protect the boy. If he gets the chance to call again, I’m pretty sure he will.”

Maddox nodded.

“When I talk with Rooney again I’ll push him to find out how everyone’s doing. Maybe I can kick free some information about the father.”

They agreed that for now the best plan was to let Rooney and the others in the house calm down. Martin looked back at Talley.

“If the boy calls again, he’ll call through your office.”

“I would guess so. He must’ve gotten the department’s number from information.”

Talley knew what she wanted.

“I’ll have someone in my office around the clock. If the boy calls, they’ll page me and I’ll bring you in.”

Martin checked her watch, then looked at Maddox.

“We’ve got to get to it. I want you and Ellison set up in front of that house so we can start breaking these assholes down.”

Talley knew what that meant: They would maintain a high noise level profile, phoning Rooney periodically throughout the night to keep him awake. They would try to wear him down by depriving him of sleep. Sometimes, if you got them tired enough, they gave up.

Martin turned back to Talley, and now her face softened. She put out her hand, and Talley took it. Her grip wasn’t as hard as before.

“I appreciate your help, Chief. You’ve done a good job keeping this situation under control.”

“Thanks, Captain.”

Martin squeezed his hand, then let go.

“You want to relieve your people now, that’s fine. I’d like four of your officers to liaison with the locals, but past that, we’ve got it. I know you have a slim department up here.”

“It’s yours, Captain. You have my numbers. If you need me, call. Otherwise, I’ll grab a few hours’ sleep and see you in the morning.”

“We’re good.”

Martin gave him an uncertain smile that almost looked pretty, then walked away. Talley thought that she probably had a hard time smiling, but people often did, and for reasons that surprised you. Maddox and Ellison followed her.

Talley brought his cup to the kitchen, thanked Mrs. Pena for her help, then went to his car. He brought Larry Anders up to speed, then checked the time, wondering if Jane and Amanda were still at dinner or were waiting at home.

He wondered why Martin had squeezed his hand.

KEN SEYMORE

The television crews wouldn’t share their food, cheap pricks, big urns of Starbucks coffee that someone had brought, Krispy Kreme donuts, and pizza. Just as well, or Ken Seymore would have missed seeing Talley leave.

Rather than eating, Seymore was seated in his car, a Ford Explorer, near the gate. He told the two cops there, who had asked him what he was doing, that he was waiting for a pool photographer to arrive from Los Angeles. Going to snap some shots of the guys guarding the development, he had said. That had been enough. They’d left him alone.

When Seymore saw Talley drive out, he picked up his phone.

“He’s leaving.”

That was all he needed to say.

Friday, 8:46 P.M.

JANE

Her heart pounding, her lips tingling from the kiss, his voice a whisper in her ear there in the dark, parked outside her house .

“We would be good together. I’ve thought that for weeks, the two of us, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle.”

He was a doctor at her hospital, newly divorced, two boys in high school, one a year older than Mandy, the other a year younger .

“You know it would be good.”

“It would.”

She loved the warm hardness of him, something that had been missing so long; this large male body, holding her, hers to hold. And a nice man. A nice man. They had the same sense of humor, wacky and sarcastic .