Nora Roberts - High Noon

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Police Lieutenant Phoebe MacNamara found her calling at an early age when an unstable man broke into her family's home, trapping and terrorizing them for hours. Now she's Savannah 's top hostage negotiator, defusing powderkeg situations with a talent for knowing when to give in-and when to jump in and take action. It's satisfying work-and sometimes those skills come in handy at home dealing with her agoraphobic mother, still traumatized by the break-in after all these years, and her precocious seven-year-old, Carly.
It's exactly that heady combination of steely courage and sensitivity that first attracts Duncan Swift to Phoebe. After observing her coax one of his employees down from a roof ledge, he is committed to keeping this intriguing, take-charge woman in his life. She's used to working solo, but Phoebe's discovering that no amount of negotiation can keep Duncan at arm's length.
And when she's grabbed by a man who throws a hood over her head and brutally assaults her-in her own precinct house-Phoebe can't help but be deeply shaken. Then threatening messages show up on her doorstep, and she's not just alarmed but frustrated. How do you go face-to-face with an opponent who refuses to look you in the eye?
Now, with Duncan backing her up every step of the way, she must establish contact with the faceless tormentor who is determined to make her a hostage to fear… before she becomes the final showdown.

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"Take a minute." Gently, Duncan turned her into his arms. "You can fall apart for a minute."

She let herself cling, let herself shake. He was holding her, good, solid arms around her. "I'm so scared. I don't know what to do I'm so scared."

"Just hold onto me until you figure it out."

"Don't go anywhere, okay?" She gripped him tighter. "Will you stay with me?"

"Of course I will. Phoebe." He put a hand under her chin to lift her face to his. "I'll be right here."

She sighed, and laid her head on his shoulder. It was such a comfort, she realized, to have someone else be strong. To have someone else be the one who was right there.

"I thought I forgot how to need somebody to stay." She eased back. "Lucky for me I remembered when the somebody can be counted on." She spotted Maggie coming out of a treatment room. "That's Dave's neighbor." Phoebe blew out a long breath. "All right. Here we go." She took two steps forward. "Maggie?"

At the sound of her name, Maggie jolted, looked over. Then, bursting into tears, all but fell into Phoebe's arms. "All right now. Hush now." Even as Phoebe looked around for somewhere marginally private, Duncan had a hand on her shoulder to steer her and her charge toward some chairs.

"Y'all sit right here," he told Phoebe. "I'll go hunt up some coffee."

"Good, that'd be good. Maggie, I need you to stop crying. I need you to stop." Firmly, Phoebe pulled back to take Maggie by both shoulders. "I need you to stop and talk to me."

"David. I think he must be dead. Oh God!"

"Well, he's not. They took him up to surgery. They're taking care of him. Don't you start going hysterical on me again. I mean it. I need you to take some good, deep breaths. In and out. You do what I say, you hear? In and out. That's right. That's better. Now, you tell me what happened. Right from the beginning."

"I don't know. " Tears still streamed as Maggie fluttered her hands. "I swear I don't know."

"You tell me what you do know. You were with Dave, at his house?"

"No. Yes. I mean to say I'd been out with a friend-you met my friend Delly when David had that barbecue last summer? We went out for lunch, and a little shopping spree. I'd just pulled up at home, right before the storm, and I saw David."

She covered her face with her hands, but Phoebe yanked them ruthlessly away. "I know you're upset, but you're going to keep talking, keep telling me. Where was Dave when you saw him?"

"Going up the walk to his front door. I beeped the horn, and he waved. I thought how he could help me carry my shopping bags in, so I beeped again, and got out right quick to hail him. It was thundering, and he was already unlocking his front door. But he turned around. He's such a sweetheart."

Fighting for patience, Phoebe stuffed a wad of tissues in Maggie's hands. "He didn't go in the house?"

"He… He was coming back to help me. His door blew open.

That's right, I remember how his door blew open. That wind came up so strong, and I guess he'd started to open the door before he turned back to help me. Then, oh my God, Phoebe, the door just exploded." After mopping her face with them, Maggie twisted the damp tissues into ropes. "I don't know exactly, I swear to God, I just don't. I fell-it was like being shoved. I fell down. My knees got all scraped up, and my arm-" She held out her arm to show the bandage. "Five stitches. But David… David."

"Here you go, Phoebe." Duncan came back with coffee. "Ma'am? I thought you might like some coffee."

"Oh, isn't that nice." Instinctively Maggie pushed at her hair. "Thank you so much. My goodness, I must look a fright."

"You look just fine," Duncan assured her as he set little tubs of cream and some sugar packets on the table between the chairs. "I didn't know how you like your coffee."

"Plenty sweet," Maggie said. "Oh, and you got the pink kind, too. Are you with the police?"

"No, ma'am. I'm just a friend. I'll leave you to talk to Phoebe."

"Oh. Oh, could you stay? I can't help myself, I just feel more secure in times of crisis when there's a man around."

"Maggie, this is Duncan. Duncan, why don't you sit down? Now,

Maggie, how long was it from the time the door blew open until the explosion?" "Oh goodness, I'm not sure. A few seconds. Maybe five? Ah, he stopped. Yes, that's right, David stopped and looked back when the door slammed open, and I think he started to go back and close it. I think he'd just started to take a step or two back toward the house when… Oh my God, Phoebe. If he'd gotten back-"

"He didn't. You calling him out to your car to help you saved his life. You think about that, Maggie. You called him away from that door, so he's upstairs getting fixed up."

"Oh my." Her face ran the gamut. Shock, horror, relief, pride. "I didn't even think of that. I've been so mixed up and scared."

"You said you were out this afternoon. Did you notice anything, anyone, before you left?"

"No. I meant to leave at noon, but I was running a little late, so I didn't leave till about quarter after. And that Delly, she gives me such grief for being late, so I was in a rush. I can't say I was paying attention, so I don't think I'd have noticed anything."

"How about during the morning?"

"I was inside all morning. I was on the phone with my mama awhile, which is why I was running late. That woman can talk. Then I dashed out and drove on out to the mall. I was barely late, but Delly gave me grief nonetheless."

With a long-suffering sigh over that, Maggie sipped her coffee. "Maybe you looked out the window while you were talking to your mother," Phoebe suggested, "or saw an unfamiliar car or someone you didn't recognize when you dashed out to go to lunch."

"I don't guess I saw a soul around the neighborhood this morningone of those hot, oppressive days where nobody likes to walk around much. Oh, except for the UPS man."

Reaching out, Phoebe clamped her hand on Maggie's wrist. "Where did you see the UPS man, Maggie?"

"Just coming down the street."

"In his truck?"

"Ah, no. Did I see his truck? I just don't remember. I was in such a rush. I barely took a minute to wave at him and call out to ask if he had a package for me."

"I imagine you see the UPS man several times a week around the neighborhood."

"I suppose I do. This wasn't the usual one, though; this one was younger and cuter, so I yelled out my name, too, when I asked if he had something for me. He said no, ma'am. Not today. Then I just jumped in my car and lit out."

"What did he look like, Maggie?"

"Well, he had dark hair and one of those scruffy little beards. Good legs. Strong-looking. I do tend to notice attractive young men," she added with a smile for Duncan.

"How tall?"

"Hmm. I'm not sure. Maybe five-ten? Not as tall as Duncan here. Had a build on him. The regular UPS man, and he's a sweetheart, but he's on the plump side. This one looked like muscle."

"How old?"

"Goodness, I didn't get a good, close look." Maggie patted her hair as if it might help her think. "Thirty-five? Maybe a little more."

"Would you recognize him if you saw him again?"

"I'm not sure. He was wearing sunglasses. Well, my God, Phoebe, do you think he had anything to do with what happened to David?" Her hand slapped to her heart. "Why, he could've killed me on the street! I was only a dozen feet away."

"I don't know, but I'm going to want you to work with a police artist. I'm going to have an officer take you into the station house, and the police artist will meet you there. You sit here with Duncan while I take care of this."

Maggie sat blinking while Phoebe sprang up and hurried away.

"Well, sweet baby Jesus. I sure wish you had some bourbon to go with this coffee."

"Next time," Duncan promised, "I'll bring a flask."

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