Susan Sleeman - Silent Night Standoff

He clicked the remote and unlocked his rental car. She jerked open her car door before he could get it for her as he’d frequently done in the past. She’d always considered him the perfect gentleman. He may still be a gentleman, but she now knew he was far from perfect.

She slid onto the buttery soft leather seat as he settled behind the wheel. He soon merged the car onto Twenty-third Avenue, but she didn’t even notice the bustling traffic for the tension filling the car.

Thankfully, the hospital was nearby.

At a red light, he turned the knob on a portable police scanner. Right. His emotions weren’t tainting the air. Only hers. He didn’t feel the same distress. As usual, he was thinking about the job.

Good. His choice served as a reminder to be far more careful with her emotions around him.

He twisted his head around to check for cars, then switched lanes. “I’d forgotten about the crazy traffic in this neighborhood.”

Small talk. Had they really come to this? “I’m sure Chicago has a trendy area with shops and restaurants like this,” she replied.

“I don’t get out much, so I couldn’t say.”

Not surprising. He probably ate all his meals at work or his apartment. It took time to make friends. To do things with them. Precious time he’d devote to getting ahead at the FBI.

How had she ever thought the two of them made a good couple? That she and anyone made a good couple? Her parents, with all their bickering and unhappiness, proved that marriage wasn’t a good idea. With them as role models, how could she even think about finding lasting happiness in a relationship?

She stifled a sigh and stared out the window.

He glanced at her. “Tell me about the robbery.”

Thankful to have a safe topic, she recounted the details. “I have a feeling Bonnie and Clyde are both into drugs. Marty’s teeth screamed meth user. Both their eyes were glazed, and they seemed to be coming down off something.”

“The autopsy will confirm that.” He clicked on a blinker. “Did you notice anything odd about their physical appearance?”

“Odd?” She thought for a minute, wincing when visions of Marty’s angry eyes glaring at her over the gun barrel came roaring back. She took a deep breath and forced herself to replay the entire incident. “I remember thinking Nicole had a perfect complexion, which is odd for a drug user.”

“Makeup.”

“Excuse me?”

“She was wearing a prosthetic nose and heavy makeup to throw us off.”

“Really?” Skyler swiveled to look at him. “How interesting.”

“I’m guessing Marty wore theatrical makeup, too. But you didn’t notice it up close?”

“No.”

“What did you see?”

“Nothing. At least nothing else that I remember.”

“You must’ve noticed something.”

“Don’t be so sure. All cops like to think we’ll be cool and calm under pressure, but when your life is on the line...” She shrugged.

“Maybe it would help if you closed your eyes to visualize the scene.”

She never wanted to close her eyes again. Never wanted to replay the memories of Marty and relive that fear. But if doing so aided in bringing Marty to justice, she’d try it.

She rested her head on the seat back and forced her eyes to close. Her other senses shot to life. She felt the cool air-conditioning blowing over her face. Smelled Logan’s sandalwood cologne mingling with the car’s pine air freshener. Heard the bustling traffic. But her mind refused to go back to the bank.

Calm down, she told herself and pressed her fists against her knees.

Logan settled his hand over hers.

She jerked it free, her eyes flashing open.

“Relax,” he said. “You’re safe here.”

Ha! She wasn’t safe. At least not emotionally. Her reaction had nothing to do with the robbery and everything to do with him.

“Close your eyes again,” he continued soothingly. “Concentrate on Marty. His clothes. His smell. His accent.”

She closed her eyes but kept her hands out of Logan’s reach. She dredged up Marty’s voice as he talked to Nicole. “He didn’t have an accent. Not even regional.” Thinking about his smell, she flashed forward to the end when he’d forced her to put her arms around him. “He smelled like powder. Not baby powder, but like face powder. Maybe from the makeup.”

“What about his body? Did he have a tattoo or other identifying marks?”

“Not that I remember. Plus, if he was going through all the trouble of changing his appearance, I doubt he’d let something like that show.” She ran through the whole event, pausing at his latex gloves. “A ring. He wore a ring. It was large. Gold, no stone, but a raised top that had a symbol or words.” She mentally zoomed in on it. “He wore latex gloves, so I couldn’t make out the letters. Maybe it was a class ring.”

“From a college?” Logan asked.

“He didn’t seem like the collegiate type.” She looked at Logan. “I’d put him in his early thirties, so it’s doubtful he was still wearing a high school ring. College is a better guess, I suppose.”

“We’ll try to enhance the video to see if we can identify it, but if not, would you be willing to look at pictures of college class rings?”

“Sure, but without knowing anything about Marty or Nicole, how would you even know which colleges to begin looking at?”

“Though they’ve been quite successful, Marty and Nicole are amateur robbers, and amateurs often target banks close to home. Dumb, I know, but they do. So I’ll go back to their first robbery and pull colleges in the general area.”

“Maybe he’d recently moved there or he went to school out of state.”

“You could be right, but despite their amateur status we have very little to go on, so this is as good of a place as any to start.”

“You keep saying amateur, but their intrusion style behavior didn’t fit an amateur’s profile. Amateurs usually pass notes and don’t carry weapons, right?”

His eyes widened in surprise, likely over her knowledge of bank robbers. “That’s how they operated at first. But after the success of their first two holdups, they started showing up with guns.”

The mention of guns sent Skyler flashing back to the moment Nicole lost her life, falling to the ground with a sickening thud. “We’re only talking about Marty now.”

“Right. Just Marty.” Logan’s fingers tightened on the wheel, going white from the tight grip. He came to a stop at a red light and met her gaze. “There may only be one of them now, but don’t think that means you can let your guard down. Marty’s the one who pulled the trigger on the hostages in L.A. and now he has a grudge to settle with you. That not only makes him dangerous, but deadly, as well.”

* * *

For about the hundredth time, Logan paced past the large Christmas spruce scenting the E.R. lobby with fresh pine. It was amazing he even noticed the tree at all. Celebrating Christmas was the furthest thing from his mind right now. And he wasn’t even thinking about the job. Concern for Skyler kept his thoughts occupied. She’d been with the doctors for three hours.

Maybe something was seriously wrong with her. Maybe he should march up to the desk to demand an update from the nurse.

He hadn’t caught even a glimpse of Skyler since she’d rushed out of his car at the entrance, saying she’d find her own ride home. Of course, he didn’t listen to her. He couldn’t leave her alone here. So he’d parked and gone inside. After he’d collected Faith’s clothing, he’d started passing the time by making phone calls, starting with Wagner.

Not that it moved the investigation forward. Wagner didn’t find matching prints for Nicole in any of the databases. So she didn’t have a record.