Nora Roberts: High Noon

She explained her plan, shrugged into the vest someone passed her. "Once he's away, I'll keep him there, or, if I'm lucky, bring him closer to the display window. When the rear door's clear-"

"We'll take it from there. You move any closer than I've cleared, it's over, we sweep you out."

"Understood." She turned to Duncan. "You can't come with me."

"You'd better damn right come back to me." He gripped her hand. "Not negotiable."

"Deal." Her fingers tightened on his, and in his eyes she saw both his fear and his faith. "I love you," she said, then walked away.

He might take the shot, she knew, if he was quick enough, smart enough. Odds were against it, but she hadn't been completely truthful. She ordered herself not to look back, because Duncan might see the lie in her eyes, and the fear with it.

His mother, she thought, his sister. His lover. What happened in the next few minutes would determine if any, or all, of them came back to him.

She pulled out her cell, called Jerry.

"I'm heading down now. You need to get the hostages ready. Three hostages, Jerry, that was the deal."

"I know what the damn deal was. I see you, I see it, before anybody gets out."

"You see me, but you won't see Angela's diary until three people are out. You have to work with me, Jerry. You'll still have fourteen. You didn't know how many people would be in there when you planned this. There might only have been fourteen to begin with. You're not losing anything, and you're proving to me you keep a deal. I show it to you for three, and I'll read you a page for three more. Then we'll talk about the trade. That's a fair deal, Jerry."

Lies, she thought, she was full of lies now. Did he hear them? If she failed, could she live with it? Could Duncan?

She heard the chatter through her earpiece. The rear rig was boobytrapped and set with an alarm. It would take time she wasn't sure she had to bypass and defuse.

Work with what you've got, she reminded herself.

"Tactical needs to see the three hostages, Jerry. They've got me blocked; they won't let me through until they seem them." Movement. Three females… moving toward the front.

She got the nod, stepped out from cover. In the swampy heat, her flesh goosebumped with ice. "I'm here, Jerry. First part of the deal. Now your part. Let them go."

"I don't see you."

"If I come any closer, Tactical's going to swarm me and push me back. I'm at the southwest of the building. I can see the display window, and make out one-no, two people standing just to the right of it."

"Stupid to wear a vest, Phoebe, when I'd put one in your head."

The awful amusement in his voice stripped all the moisture from her throat. "I know, but rules are rules. Let them out, Jerry."

"I want to see the diary."

She kept her hand behind her back. "I kept my word, time to keep yours. Then it'll be my turn again."

The locks clicked, the door flew open. People ran or stumbled out, weeping, shouting, "Don't shoot!" Cops in body armor rushed to pull and drag them to cover.

Out of the corner of her eye, Phoebe saw Ma Bee, and sent up a quick prayer of thanks.

Duncan's mother was safe.

"My girl's still in there," Ma shouted. "He's hiding behind her, hiding behind the others. He's got the detonators. He's got two of them." The prayer died in her throat. She watched a wild-eyed woman come forward and shut the door again.

"That's three. Show me the book."

"All right, Jerry. Tactical needs to clear the civilians out of the inner perimeter. That's a clear." She brought the book from behind her back. "I have Angela's diary."

"Open it. Open it and read. That could be any damn thing."

"I need three more hostages." And though it went against her heart, she followed training. "I need the injured man with this group, Jerry."

"Fuck him. He stays, just like the rest. Want to see him, Phoebe?" She saw the movement, and Arnie stumbling forward as if he'd been shoved. His face was gray, the blood on it dried to black. As Roy's had been, his torso was imprisoned with the bomb.

Through the barred glass, his bruised eyes met Phoebe's.

"You read, or I blow him. Going to take a few other people out and bring serious hurt to the others. But what the hell, I'll blow the big one, too, and that takes it all. You read now or it's done. No more negotiating." She opened the book, stared at the blank pages. Women in love, she thought, spoke the same language. So she read from her own heart.

"I know what love is now. How could I have thought I knew before him? Everything before is pale and soft and foolish. Now, now that I know love, the world's bright and strong and real. He makes me real." She closed the book. "Send three people out, Jerry, and I'll read more."

"No more out! No more. You read what she wrote. I want the cameras on you while you read what she wrote."

"Jerry-"

"Fuck you!" He screamed it out so all his rage seemed to fill Phoebe's head. "You read what she wrote, then you're going to give the statement. You do it now, you start it now, or I pick one and take her out."

Phoebe stepped a little closer, got the sharp order through her earpiece to stop. Looking past Arnie, she could see part of the line of hostages. And she saw Loo. So tall, Phoebe thought. All that gorgeous hair. Such a good shield.

"I'll read it, Jerry."

"I want to see the rose, the rose she put in it." He was weeping. He was lost. "Ask for a goddamn hostage, I do one. You understand me? Ask for another, I pick one and put one in the back of their head. You show it, you read it, you tell the goddamn world how you killed my angel. Then it's done. Then this is done."

Death, his longing for it as much as his lover, vibrated in his voice. And he would take, she knew, fourteen people with him.

With her gaze steady, she turned the book, flipped pages. "She saved your rose."

"I can't see it."

"I'm holding it up. I'm doing what you want. I can't come closer, they're holding me back."

"Two steps forward. Everybody, two steps! Hold it up! Goddamn it." She shifted, turned the book only a fraction. In her mind she saw the red X's on the sketch. She saw him shove Loo's head to the left so he could get a better view. And meeting his eyes, just for an instant, she said, "It's all I can do, Jerry. "

Go.'

The sound of the shot cut straight through her. She barely heard the screams, the shouts, the running feet that followed it.

She watched Loo run out, on her own, and straight for her. The force of the embrace knocked Phoebe back two steps. "Oh God, oh God, oh God. I thought I was going to die. I thought he'd kill us all."

"You have to get clear now, Loo. You have to move out of this area."

"You saved my life." She drew back, gripped Phoebe's face in her hands. "You saved us all."

"Ma Bee's over that way. You need to get clear, go to Ma Bee."

"You saved us all," Loo repeated as cops hustled up to pull her away. Phoebe dropped the book, turned. And there was Duncan pushing his way toward her. "How did you get through?"

He held up a laminated ID. "I stole it." His arms came around her.

"I love you. Still a bomb in there, right? Let's get the hell out of here, let's go home, let's go to Acapulco."

"Yeah, but for now, let's just move far away from the building with the bomb inside."

"Your hand's shaking."

"Yours, too."

"Not just my hand."

"I have to sit down, Duncan. I have to find a quiet-quieter-place to sit down for a minute."

She moved through the aftermath with him, nodding, acknowledging those who congratulated her. Good job, nice work. Then she stopped short when Sergeant Meeks stepped into her path.

He said nothing, simply looked at her. Then he inclined his head and strode away.

"He ought to be on his knees to you," Duncan muttered. "Not his style, and I don't give a damn anyway."