A Grant County Collection Read online

  Molly Stoddard had been leaning against the folding table, but she stood up and knocked on the door to Burgess's office. She entered without waiting for a reply, closing the door behind her.

  Lena watched Wagner's guys for a reaction, but they seemed uninterested. One of them was talking so low on his cell phone she wondered if he was just moving his lips, and the other two were leaned over a map of the station, pointing to different areas like they were hatching a plan. They had not been able to get a camera into the air-conditioning vent because the shooters had blocked them with clothing.

  She walked over to see what they were planning. The guy on the cell phone ended the call. He told her, 'Jennings was killed in a six-car pile-up outside Friendswood, Texas, last year.'

  'You're kidding,' she said, feeling like all the wind had been knocked out of her.

  The guy added, 'There were two kids in the back. One of them walked away from the accident. That's good, right?'

  'Yeah,' Lena said, though she doubted the kid felt lucky. She had seen the kind of damage Jennings was capable of firsthand. That the animal had died in such a seemingly normal way was just wrong.

  The office door opened and Amanda Wagner came out followed by Frank. Nick and Molly were still inside, and Lena could see that Molly was using the phone on old man Burgess's desk. Her head was bent down and she had her hand wrapped around the back of her neck like she wanted to keep the conversation private.

  Wagner's man repeated the information about Jennings. His boss said, 'Well, it was a long shot anyway.' She motioned Lena toward the office. 'Follow me.'

  Nick waited until they were all inside before shutting the door. Molly looked up at Lena, a flash of irritation in her eyes. Into the phone, she said, 'Baby, Mama has to go now, okay?' She waited a beat. 'I love you, too.'

  Lena had not given Sara's nurse much thought beyond noticing her around the clinic, and it had never occurred to Lena that the woman was a mother. She was probably a good one, too – always calm, always there for her kids. She did not seem to have a selfish bone in her body. Some people were just made for that kind of life.

  'Detective Adams,' Wagner began. 'We've selected you to go into the building.'

  Nick said, 'I want to repeat that I'm against this.'

  Lena went on the defensive. 'I know what I –'

  'Not you,' Nick interrupted. 'Her.'

  'Wait a minute,' Lena said, finally understanding what Molly had done. 'She's going, too?'

  Wagner provided, 'We'll send you in as paramedics under the guise of offering medical assistance.'

  'You said Barry was probably dead.'

  Molly looked at Nick as she spoke. 'Some of the kids could be hurt. Sara could need me.'

  Nick's mouth went into a straight line, and Lena wondered why he was so vehement. His objection seemed more personal than professional.

  'Just for the record,' Wagner began, 'I'm a little hesitant to send you in, Detective, but Nicky assures me you're up to the challenge.'

  Lena bit back the defensive remark that wanted to come. Instead, she swallowed her pride and said, 'If you're not certain . . .' She tried to find the words, struggling with her emotions. 'If you think someone else is more qualified, then I'll step down.'

  'That's just it,' Wagner answered. 'There isn't anyone more qualified. If I send in one of my boys, the shooters will know immediately what's going on. I think our best plan of action is to send in both of you. They'll be more comfortable with women.'

  'Or they'll take you both hostage,' Nick added. 'Or just shoot you.'

  'He's right,' Wagner said. 'There's nothing to keep them from doing either or both.' She crossed her arms. 'Are you still so eager to get into that building?'

  Lena did not hesitate. 'Yes.'

  They all looked at Molly.

  'Ms. Stoddard?' Wagner asked.

  Molly exchanged a look with Nick. 'Yes.'

  Wagner said, 'Your resolve seems to have slipped a little.'

  'No.' Molly stood. 'I'm ready.'

  2:15 P.M.

  Lena washed her hands in the bathroom sink of the Grant Medical Center. Her hands shook slightly, but that was nothing new. Her hands had been shaking off and on for the last two years, ever since she was abducted. Sometimes, Lena thought the shaking was because of the scars in her hands that her attacker had made, but her doctors assured her there was no nerve damage.

  'You okay?' Molly Stoddard asked. She was watching Lena's hands like they told a story.

  'I'm fine,' Lena told her, snatching a paper towel off the roll.

  'It's okay to be nervous,' Molly said. 'As a matter of fact, I'd feel better if you did.'

  'Right,' Lena answered. She took the EMT uniform off the counter and went into a stall to change.

  'I'm nervous,' Molly said. She was obviously waiting for Lena to speak, but when she did not, Molly drew out an 'O-okay.'

  Lena took off her jacket and hung it on the hook on the back of the stall door. She was unbuttoning her shirt when a knock came at the bathroom door.

  Nick Shelton asked, 'Y'all decent?'

  Molly said yes as Lena said no.

  'Sorry,' Molly apologized, but Lena could already hear Nick in the room. She sat on the toilet, not wanting to be undressed with him in the room, even though there was a locked stall door between them.

  'I wanted to say,' Nick began, his voice sounding hesitant. 'I just . . .'

  'We'll be fine,' Molly said, as if she knew exactly what was bothering him. Lena peered through the crack in the door and she saw that Molly had her hand on Nick's face.

  Molly whispered again, 'I'll be fine.'

  'You don't have to do this,' Nick said.

  'If I was in there and Sara –'

  'Sara doesn't have two kids at home, and that's exactly what she'd be telling you now if she was here.'

  Molly looked Lena's way, and Lena stood to continue changing so they would not think she had been watching. Her pants dropped to the floor and she heard a muffled clank as the knife she always kept in her back pocket hit the tile. Lena looked out the crack to make sure Molly and Nick had not seen. They were still whispering, as if the fact that she was three feet away meant nothing. Nick clearly did not want Molly to go into the station. Lena couldn't blame him. There was no guarantee the shooters weren't looking for more hostages.

  Lena opened her pocketknife and ran her finger along the sharp blade. The knife was little more than three inches long, but she could do some damage with it. The only question was where she could hide it in case the shooters frisked her.

  Nick raised his voice to include Lena. 'They capitulated too easily,' he said. 'Usually, hostage takers are unstable. They're emotional. You have to deal with them for a while, get their trust, before they make concessions. They're sending Maria out too soon.'

  Lena slipped on the pants for the paramedic's uniform. They were about one size too big, which was a better fit than she had hoped. She suggested, 'Maybe they're hungry.'

  'There's something not right here,' Nick insisted. 'They obviously know what we're doing. They wouldn't have blocked the vents just for the hell of it. They knew we would have cameras and that standard operating procedure is to try the vents first. This could be a trap to get more hostages.'

  Lena slid off her sneaker and dropped in the pocketknife. She stepped back into the shoe, wiggling the knife around until it was snug against the arch of her foot.

  'Lena?' Nick prompted.

  'I know the dangers, Nick,' Lena snapped, thinking he was treating her like a ten-year-old instead of a seasoned cop. She put on the white paramedic's shirt, which was tight across her chest. The badge over the pocket read MARTIN, and she wondered if Martin was a skinny guy or a flat-chested woman.

  When she opened the door, Molly moved away from Nick as if they had been caught. Lena checked herself in the mirror, thinking that with the buttons stretched across her chest she looked like some slut out of a porn movie. Considering some of the Grant paramedics she had s
een around town, she fit right in.

  She told Nick, 'I know you don't trust Wagner.'

  'Do you know why?' Nick asked, but he did not let her answer. 'I know the rumor, but let me set it straight. I'm the one who hesitated. She didn't hesitate. She never hesitates. She's ice. And I'll tell you another thing.' He gave Molly a meaningful look. 'She doesn't like women.'

  Lena blew air out through her lips.

  'It's true,' Nick said. 'She doesn't mind using them as bait. That's exactly what she's doing here, no matter what you think. That's what happened in Ludowici. She sent in a female cop and the shooters kept the woman. She was dead ten minutes later.'

  'Because you hesitated?' Lena asked. She could see the guilt flash in his eyes and she regretted her words – not because she didn't mean them, but because the situation was stressful enough without having Molly Stoddard pissed off with her, too.

  Nick said, 'This won't go down like you think. You've been on the job long enough to know something isn't right here. You feel it in your gut. You know that, Lena.'

  'I'll be outside,' Lena told him, thinking it would be best to leave them alone. She walked out of the bathroom and ran into one of Wagner's men. He was built like a brick wall, and he grabbed her in surprise. His hands stayed on her body a little too long, and she pushed him back, trying not to show her anger. She walked toward Wagner, who was standing at the end of the hallway with a cell phone to her ear. She ended the call as Lena reached her.

  Wagner said, 'What's in your shoe?'

  'It's just tight,' Lena said. 'Kind of like this shirt.'

  'Better too tight than too big,' Wagner countered. 'What happened to your lip?'

  Lena put her hand to her mouth, a second later realizing she had given herself away. 'Accident,' she said, but the lie sounded weak even to her.

  Wagner seemed to be taking all of this in, but she did not challenge Lena. 'I don't quite trust you, Detective Adams, but I'm letting you go in there because you're familiar with the layout and because they'll see you as less threatening.'

  'Thanks for the vote of confidence.'

  'You don't need any more confidence from me, Detective,' Wagner shot back. 'Listen closely: you're to deliver the food and get Maria Simms out of there as quickly as possible.'

  'All right.'

  'I don't need heroics, and I certainly don't need you exchanging yourself for any hostages.'

  Lena looked down, trying to hide her expression. That had been exactly what she was planning.

  'It might seem like a good idea, but you're more useful to me out here than you are in there. You're trained to appraise dangerous situations. I need your expert opinion.'

  She seemed like a frank person, so Lena decided to say what was on her mind. 'That sounds like you're blowing smoke up my ass.'

  Wagner's lip curled up in a smile, and she got a look in her eyes that Lena had seen several times before in other people; the woman realized she had underestimated Lena. 'Maybe a little of it's smoke, but you worked with Brad Stephens. Maybe he can communicate something to you. I know partners pick up on each other's codes.'

  'He wasn't my partner.'

  'I don't have time for your ego,' Wagner reprimanded. 'What I want from you when you come out of that place is a detailed drawing of where everyone is. I need to know how many desks and filing cabinets are against the doors and I need to know exactly how they're armed. What are they using, Sig, S&W, Glock? Detective Wallace thinks the shotgun is a Wingmaster. Did they bring extra ammo? What caliber? Are they still wearing Kevlar? How are they getting along? Is one getting a little too big for his britches? Maybe the other one can be turned or distracted. I need to know every weakness in their armor, and I can't get that from you if you stay inside.'

  Lena nodded. All of that would be useful, and there was no way Molly Stoddard would even begin to know how to tell the difference between a twenty-two and a nine-mil, let alone give an accurate assessment of available firepower.

  Lena asked, 'Should I try to pass them anything?'

  'No,' Wagner said. 'Not at this point. We need to establish some trust. They're going to pat you down head to toe.' She glanced at Lena's shoe. 'If they find anything, they're going to be angry, and they're going to take it out on someone. This someone might not be you, so before you take any risks, you need to ask yourself if it's worth jeopardizing the lives of the people around you.'

  'Okay,' Lena said, shifting her weight. 'I'm ready.' Wagner stared at her for a beat. She smiled ruefully. 'Sweetheart, you can piss on my face, but don't tell me it's raining.'

  Lena was caught out, but she tried not to show it.

  Wagner glanced down at Lena's shoe again. All she said was, 'Be careful.'

  FOURTEEN

  Monday

  Jeffrey trudged back through the woods, his socks bunching from the wet earth. He stopped by a tree, using it to lean on while he peeled them off. The rain was barely more than a memory, and the air was filled with mist as the sun evaporated it up to the clouds. Jeffrey wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand as he walked into the cemetery. The sun was sharper in the open graveyard, and the sloping hill with its jutting white markers seemed like teeth in the big mouth that was trying to swallow him.

  Reggie was sitting in his cruiser with the door open, a cigarette hanging from his lips. He stayed where he was, making Jeffrey come to him. The asphalt was blistering against Jeffrey's bare feet, but he was damned if he'd show it.

  Reggie gave a leisurely glance down at the wet athletic socks Jeffrey held in his hand. His lip curled up in a sarcastic sneer, but Jeffrey didn't let him get out whatever shitty thing he wanted to say.

  'Take me to the station,' Jeffrey ordered, climbing into the passenger seat of the cruiser.

  Reggie took one last suck on his cigarette before closing the door. He cranked the engine and let it idle for a few minutes. 'Where's your girl?'

  'She's fine,' Jeffrey told him. Despite the fact that she had been scared out of her mind seconds before finding the bones, Sara had insisted on staying with them while Jeffrey went to get help.

  Reggie rested his hand on the shift for a moment before putting the car in gear. He took his time merging onto the interstate and drove the posted speed limit into town, waving at folks out the window like he hadn't a care in the world. Jeffrey tried not to show his irritation, knowing Reggie was doing all this on purpose, but as they crawled past the high school at twenty miles per hour, he had to let off some steam or he would explode.

  'Is there a reason you're going this slow?'

  'Just to piss you off, Slick.'

  Jeffrey stared out the window, wondering how much worse this day could get.

  Reggie said, 'You wanna tell me what's going on here?'

  'No.'

  'That's your prerogative.'

  Jeffrey gave a low whistle. 'Big word.'

  'I thought you might be impressed.'

  'Your sister teach you that?'

  'You shut up about my sister.'

  'How's Paula doing?'

  'I said shut up, you fucker,' Reggie said, his voice a low warning. 'Why don't you ask me how my cousins are doing? How they're getting by without their father? How it feels for all of us when we get together and my uncle Dave's not there?'

  Jeffrey felt all the guilt his words could bring and more. Still, he said, 'I'm not my father's keeper.'

  'Yeah,' Reggie said, making a sharp turn into the sheriff's station parking lot. 'That's real convenient for you. I'll tell that to my cousin Jo when she graduates this fall and her daddy's not around to congratulate her. I'm sure it'll be a real comfort.'

  Jeffrey grabbed his wet socks off the floorboard and got out of the car before Reggie cut the engine. He walked into the building, ignoring the secretary and the deputy who was leaning over her desk as he went back to Hoss's office, opening the door without knocking.

  Hoss looked over the newspaper he was reading when Jeffrey closed the door. 'What is it, son?'

&
nbsp; Jeffrey wanted to sit down, but something stopped him. Instead, he leaned against the wall for support, the weight of his fears catching up with him. He looked at Hoss's office. Like the man, nothing had changed in the last decade. The fishing trophies and photographs of Hoss on his boat were still around, and the folded American flag that had been on his brother's coffin when they brought his body back from Vietnam was still given a place of prominence on the shelf by the window. After his brother had died, Hoss had tried to join up, but his flat feet had kept him out. He always joked that the Army's loss was Sylacauga's gain, but Jeffrey knew he did not like to talk about it, as if having flat feet made him less of a man.

  Hoss prompted, 'Jeffrey?'

  'We found some bones.'

  'Bones?' Hoss asked, creasing his newspaper in a tight fold.

  'In the old cave me and the boys used to use when we were in junior high.'

  'Out on the edge of the quarry?' Hoss asked in a careful tone. 'Probably just a bear or something.'

  'Sara's a doctor, Hoss. She knows what human bones look like. Hell, even if she didn't, the damn thing was laying out on the rocks like she was taking a nap.'

  'She?' Hoss asked, and all the air went out of the room.

  A knock came at the door.

  'What is it?' Hoss demanded.

  Reggie opened the door. 'I was just –'

  'Give us a minute,' Hoss barked, his tone inviting no dissention.

  Jeffrey heard the click of the door, but his eyes were on Hoss. The old man seemed to have aged about a hundred years in the past few seconds.

  Jeffrey reached into his pocket and pulled out the chain he had found in the cave. He held it up, letting the gold heart-shaped locket twirl in the light.

  'It doesn't prove anything,' Hoss said. 'She went to the cave a couple dozen times. Everybody knows that. Hell, she told them herself.'

  'Sara won't let this go.'

  'I thought y'all were leaving this afternoon?'

  'I talked her into staying another day before all this happened,' Jeffrey told him. 'Even without that, she'll want to see this through.'

  'I don't see giving her a choice.'

  Jeffrey felt the heat of his remark and the underlying warning. 'I don't have anything to hide,' he said, hearing the false bravado in his own voice.