Perri O'Shaughnessy - Case of Lies

“The gate was like that, and I knew something was wrong. I called to him from outside. Flint shot at me. I heard Dave shout for help, and that’s the last I’ve heard from him.”

“I don’t think he meant to hit Roger,” Cheney said. “The shot went wide.”

“Are you sure there’s nobody else in there?” Nina said.

“Doesn’t seem to be,” Cheney said.

“What’s happening now?”

Cheney said, “Placerville police are trying to make contact. He won’t answer the phone, so they’re going to try a bullhorn.”

“He’ll kill Dave if he wants to,” Nina said. “He’s a security expert. He’ll know whatever hostage-rescue protocol you use.”

“If we hear a shot, we’ll rush the house. That’s all we plan to do now. When night comes we can do more. Aerosols and so on. Meantime, he has to see that if he shoots again we’ll rush the house.”

“You talked to Jimmy Bova last night, Sergeant.”

“Yes. Flint again.”

“He-Flint-was trying to communicate with me. Did Bova tell you that?”

“It was just junk talk.”

“I think he believes he didn’t kill Sarah Hanna. Maybe he’s crazy, but that’s how I understand what he told Bova.” She explained her thinking, but Cheney didn’t look impressed.

“Then he’s a liar,” he said. “Or delusional.”

His radio crackled and he stepped away from them.

Roger slumped against a police car. It was five in the afternoon and the shadows lengthened, leaving the house dark. “I’m going to tell you something. The truth is, I never liked Dave. Not from the first day I met him, hanging on Sarah at the Sacramento County Fair. Now I’m wondering if he wouldn’t stay with me because he knew it all along. Because he’s proud. Then Flint wouldn’t have found him at home.”

“Stop it, Roger. Flint might have come to your house. You might be a hostage, too.”

“Dave said he had his rifle. He’s a good shot. We’ve hunted wild boar, wild turkeys, deer together. But he’s a drunk.”

“You couldn’t prevent it.”

“What did Flint think he could gain?”

“It’s a surefire way to end a lawsuit,” Nina said. “Dispose of the plaintiff. It’s no way to end a murder investigation, though. Flint is very violent, Roger. Thank you for checking on Dave and calling the police. I believe he would have been dead hours ago if you hadn’t. Flint would have come and gone.”

“I don’t know if Dave is alive or dead,” Roger said. He breathed out heavily. “I don’t feel well at all. It’s too much. My daughter.” He slipped to the ground. “I’m so tired,” he said.

“Do you need a doctor?”

“Just tired.”

“I’ll be right back.” Nina ran to the van and asked Wish for help. Together they brought Roger back and laid him down in the back seat, covering him with Wish’s parka. “Rest there,” Nina said. “If you don’t feel better soon, we’ll get you to an ER.”

Sandy had been standing by. She said, “What now?”

“It’ll get dark, and they’ll make a move.”

They heard an amplified bullhorn. Nina could see a uniformed man holding it. “Mr. Flint, please pick up the phone. That’s all we ask. We are not interfering with you. Please pick up the phone so we can talk. We need to find out what you need right now.” He lowered it and waited. Nothing happened.

“He doesn’t need a gun to kill Hanna,” Wish said, voicing the thought that was also in Nina’s mind.

“Maybe he’d like to talk to me,” she said. “He sent me a message last night. Maybe he wants to know how I reacted.”

“Let the cops handle it,” Sandy advised.

“I’m going to ask Cheney.” The sergeant was huddled with a group of Placerville deputies on a neighboring property. Nina steeled herself and went to him. “He might talk to me,” she said. “He has said that he wants to talk to me.”

One of the deputies said, “He’s not talking to anybody.” But Cheney puffed out his cheeks and considered her.

“Better to let trained people try,” he said eventually.

“They’ve been trying.”

“You’d be out of range. You’d be safe.”

“I’m willing.”

“I don’t know. You’re not known for your soothing qualities. What makes you think you can sweet-talk him?”

“I’ll just ask if there’s anything he wants to tell me,” Nina said. “If he doesn’t respond, I’ll get out of the way. I’m very worried about my client, Sergeant. His brother-in-law has collapsed and his wife and his niece have been killed by this asshole. I’m all he has out here. Just knowing that I’m here might help Dave.”

“I’ll go talk to the guy in charge.”

She went back to the car. Roger was sitting up in back, drinking from a bottle of water. Sandy and Wish sat in fold-out beach chairs behind the car.

“Better?” she said.

“I think I had an anxiety attack,” he said. “I felt dizzy, but I’m better now.”

“Good.” She went around the car.

“How’s it going?” Sandy asked. She was just sitting there, under an oak tree that hung over the street, looking comfortable with her legs up on the fender, a thermos on the ground and a cup in her hand. Wish read the Placerville want ads.

“No change. You look all right.”

“As long as it takes,” Sandy said.

“You should go home. I can get a lift with Sergeant Cheney later.”

“Listen to her,” Sandy said to Wish, shaking her head. “Thinks we’re going home.”

“He’s our client,” Wish said to Nina. “We can’t go home until he’s okay.”

“There’s nothing you can do.”

“We’re sitting with him,” Sandy said. “He’s in there, we’re out here, but we’re with him. He needs us.”

“You need us,” Wish said. He got up and made her sit in his chair. “Coffee,” he said. “Long night ahead, maybe.”

At the bottom of the hill where the police had stopped traffic, Nina could see many more lights and people. “Reporters,” she said. “I wonder what they know.” She drank the coffee gratefully.

Nothing happened for over an hour, except that the sun did a lot of things that must go on every evening, which she didn’t often notice: It sent sharp rays through the trees, it sparkled in the west on a neighbor’s chimney, it withdrew its warmth, it disappeared, leaving its radiant trail. The police grouped and regrouped, talked on their radios, moved their cars around. Now and then the officer with the bullhorn repeated his request that Flint pick up the phone. The Hanna house with its unkempt yard and old fruit tree became the focus of her world.

At seven Wish braved the reporters to bring back pizza. Roger huddled in a blanket in the car, and Nina and Sandy continued their vigil from the plastic chairs. It reminded Nina of a Fourth of July at Tahoe when she and Bob had sat on the beach at North Shore with a crowd of people waiting endlessly for the first burst of fireworks in the sky, but the mood was very different now.

They were waiting, helplessly, for a tragedy.

Cheney found them a few minutes later. He ambled up and leaned against the van. “It’s full dark now,” he said. “The talk is of trying tear gas. I mentioned your offer to the Crisis Negotiation Team. The officer in charge wasn’t interested an hour ago, but he just told me if you want to talk through the horn, just to ask if Flint wants to talk to you, he’ll allow that. He’ll be beside you to coach you if Flint responds. If nothing happens, things are going to get rough.”

“Right now?” Nina said.

“Right now.” He extended a hand and Nina took it.

“Hold the fort,” she told Sandy, an old joke between them.

“Good luck,” Wish said. Nina and Cheney moved carefully from car to car, until they came to two uniformed police directly across the street from the house, standing in the dirt of a neighbor’s flower bed. One of them held the bullhorn. “Officer Christian. Nina Reilly,” Cheney said.