False Front (34 page)

Mark paused and studied his father’s face for a moment. ‘Dad, please, let that woman go. I am not going to leave until this is over and I do not want it to end with you lying dead at my feet. Please, Dad. These people don’t understand. They will stop at nothing. On the way in, I saw a sniper on the roof across the street . . .’

Lucinda jerked the bullhorn from Mark’s hands, furious that he revealed that bit of information. She looked at Frank’s eyes going back and forth across the neighbor’s slate tiles until his eyes settled on one spot.

‘Eagleton, listen to your children. Let the woman go. Or pick up a phone and talk to me. Don’t make this end with your death.’

For the first time since the stand-off started, Frank stepped back away from the window, dragging his hostage with him. Lucinda could no longer see him. Was he going to let her go? Was he going to call? Or, God forbid, was he going to shoot her and then himself? Should she send in the entry team? Or would that set off a situation that ended with a dead hostage? Was it the only way to save her life? She jumped to a decision then reversed it. Everything was unknown. Every move would be a gamble. Her cell rang. She snatched it out of her pocket and looked at the screen. Jake? Ohmigod! She disconnected the call and waited.

Finally, the phone rang again.

She recognized Frank’s cell number and pressed the connect button. ‘Mr Eagleton?’

‘You are responsible for this, Lieutenant. If you’d done the right thing and called my attorney instead of barging onto my property, this woman would not be in this situation.’

Lucinda’s breath caught in her throat. Stay calm, she urged herself. ‘Yes, Mr Eagleton, I made a big mistake. Please don’t make her pay for my wrongdoing. I can’t take it back but if you let her go, I will extricate you from this situation without any bloodshed. Where are you now?’

‘Wouldn’t you like to know? All you need to know, though, is that I am still in the house. She’s got a bicycle chain wrapped around her thigh and she’s fastened to an immovable object. I’ve got one hand on my cell; the other is still holding the gun to her head.’

‘May I speak to her, Mr Eagleton?’

A moment of silence preceded his answer. ‘No.’

‘OK. This is an overwrought situation. Only you can defuse it, Mr Eagleton.’

‘On the contrary, Lieutenant, you can defuse it. Just walk away – and take your goons with you.’

‘You know I can’t do that.’

‘Call off the sniper.’

‘Mr Eagleton, would you like to speak to your son?’

‘You leave him out of it! Send him away now.’

Lucinda walked over to Mark and handed him the phone, hoping he would not make the situation worse.

‘Dad,’ Mark said.

‘Go home, son. Go home, now. That cop should have not gotten you involved.’

‘No, Dad, I can’t. Please can I come inside with you?’

‘Just leave, Mark. We’ll talk later.’

Mark dropped the cell on the ground and sprinted to the front porch. Lucinda shouted an expletive and launched her body into the air, tackling him before he could reach the door. She shouted and officers came running. They slapped on cuffs and escorted Mark back to a waiting patrol car.

Lucinda retrieved the phone and said, ‘Mr Eagleton?’

‘What’s happening? What did you do to my son?’

Lucinda’s mind raced. Should she tell him the truth? Or would that make him do something rash? ‘Your son is OK. Please don’t make this day any more difficult for him. Release the hostage. Please.’

‘Let me speak to Mark.’

‘That’s no longer possible, sir.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong, Lieutenant. I’m in the catbird seat. And you’ve now really pissed me off.’

‘Mr Eagleton, let’s wrap this up now. Send her out . . .’

A shrill, sharp scream echoed in the house and made the hair up and down Lucinda’s arms stand at attention.

SIXTY-FIVE

J
ake, standing near a gate at the Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport, looked down at his phone in surprise. His call to Lucinda didn’t go to voicemail, it just cut off. He contemplated the possible reasons and decided she must be interviewing Frank Eagleton. Still, he wondered, why hadn’t she simply shut off her phone before she started?

His eyes drifted to a television monitor mounted on the ceiling. He saw an aerial view of a house surrounded by police vehicles, amid a large crowd of media. He walked closer to hear the commentary. Before the audio came into range, he realized he recognized the house. It took him a moment to identify it but when he did, it hit him hard. Frank Eagleton’s house.

When he could hear, he went numb. A hostage situation going into its third hour. He got as close to the screen as he could, searching the crowd out front for a glimpse of Lucinda. No one’s features were distinct but one figure reminded him of her.

He was mesmerized by the stagnant situation before his eyes. The commentator spoke of a stand-off. Boarding for his flight was announced. He looked over his shoulder at the line forming by the Jetway but could not tear himself away from the screen.

A figure broke away and ran toward the front door. Another soared through the air and brought the first one down. That had to be Lucinda. He knew it. He was torn between wanting to know more and catching his flight to get down there and lend his assistance. He dashed for the plane when he heard the intercom announce last call.

Walking down the aisle, Jake felt claustrophobic. He’d flown thousands of times but never before had he felt imprisoned. He wondered if that was how the prisoners he’d transported felt when he’d executed an extradition treaty and forced them onto a plane.

Jake sat in his seat, overflowing with restless impatience. The plane could not take off soon enough. It could not fly fast enough. He did not know how he would contain his anxiety until he arrived at the scene.

He began second-guessing what he saw. Was that Lucinda who hit the ground? If so, was it really a tackle, as he first thought, or was she shot? Bile rose in his throat. He squeezed the arms of his seat.

Seated next to him, a white-haired woman, who appeared to be in her eighties, patted the back of his hand. ‘It’ll be all right. We’ll be back on the ground before you know it.’

Agitated, Jake almost snapped at her but stopped himself before he did. ‘Thank you, ma’am,’ he said. ‘I’ll be all right.’

‘I know you will, dear. If you need to squeeze my hand, please feel free.’

Much closer to the scene of the hostage situation, another pair of eyes focused on the developing situation on the television. Charley Spencer picked up her cell phone and sent a text message to Lucinda. ‘Lucy. Watching TV breaking news. Are you there? Is that you near the house?’

Charley sat back to watch the unfolding news but kept an eye on her phone, waiting for the pinging glass sound that heralded the arrival of a response. When she hadn’t received one for ten minutes, she leaned forward toward the television and chewed on her thumbnail.

SIXTY-SIX

L
ucinda shouted into the bullhorn: ‘Eagleton! What just happened in there? Send out your hostage now!’

She gave him two seconds to respond and when she heard nothing she ordered everyone inside. ‘Go. Go. Go.’

An officer approached the front door and heaved a battering ram into it again and again. Lucinda heard the sound of broken glass as the officers in the rear of the house breached the French doors. The second the ram splintered the wood surrounding the lock, she pushed inside. ‘Eagleton! Hands on your head. Down on your knees.’

‘Here, Lieutenant!’ an unknown voice shouted from deeper in the house. Lucinda raced toward the sound. In the kitchen, Frank Eagleton was lying on his side, curled into a ball on the tile floor, moaning. Doubled over but still on her feet, the hostage was tethered to the interior framing of a lower cabinet, a bloody butcher knife clutched in her fist. Her face was ashen, her legs trembling, her lips moving without a sound.

‘Cut her loose. Get the paramedics.’ While an officer used a saw to free the woman, Lucinda put an arm around her to keep her knees from buckling and dumping her on the floor.

‘Hush, hush,’ she said. ‘Everything is going to be all right. You’re safe now. Let me have the knife.’ Lucinda wrapped her fingers around the hand holding the knife. The hostage startled, jerked back and stabbed Lucinda in the thigh.

‘Holy shit!’ she yelled and jumped back. ‘Drop the damn knife, lady.’

She let go of the weapon and it clattered on the tile. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ she sobbed. ‘I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I’m so sorry.’

Uniforms surrounded her in a flash.

‘Easy, easy,’ Lucinda urged. ‘Don’t hurt her; just get her out of here. She needs medical attention.’

‘Colter!’ Lucinda yelled.

Robin stepped into the kitchen and rushed toward Lucinda with outstretched arms.

‘Not me. The knife. Bag the damn knife.’

‘Lieutenant, you’re bleeding.’

‘Later, Colter,’ Lucinda said and grabbed a kitchen towel off a nearby hook. She pressed it into her wound and watched as it slowly bloomed red. She lowered herself to the floor next to Frank Eagleton, keeping the pressure on the cut.

‘Lieutenant?’ Colter said.

‘It looks worse than it is, Colter. Get me something to prop up my leg.’

‘But, Lieutenant . . .’

‘Do it, Colter.’

Robin’s eyes darted around the kitchen, then she dashed into the living room. She grabbed a sofa cushion and returned to Lucinda, tucking it under her injured leg.

‘Eagleton,’ Lucinda said.

Frank whimpered and moaned.

‘Man up, Eagleton. You weren’t hurt that badly or you’d be in a pool of blood by now.’

‘I’m going to die,’ he wailed.

‘Not unless I kill you.’

Frank moaned louder.

A paramedic kneeled beside him and gently rolled him on his back to examine his wound. He pulled back his shirt and used scissors to release the waistband of his pants.

‘What does it look like?’ Lucinda asked.

‘I’d guess that the knife deflected off his iliac crest – the top of his hip bone – and didn’t go any deeper. Doesn’t appear to have hit any internal organs but we’ll have to get him to the hospital to check it out.’ The paramedic cleaned the cut and called for a stretcher.

‘Wait,’ Lucinda said. ‘I need to talk to him.’

‘Ma’am, I need to get him to the hospital – and you, too, for that matter.’

‘It can wait. Eagleton, stop moaning and look at me.’

Eagleton whimpered and said, ‘Oh, please, let me die in peace.’

‘Don’t be such a wuss, Eagleton. Look at me, dammit!’

Eagleton slowly turned his head to the side.

‘Why the hell did you pull this stunt?’

‘Because I’m being framed, Lieutenant. And now I’m going to die.’

‘Shut up with the dying crap. You’re going to be fine. What do you mean you’re being framed?’

‘I went to that woman just to warn her. I knew Candace was up to no good. I knew she planned to blackmail her.’

‘What woman?’

‘Tess Middleton. I told her that Candace was doing it only because I contributed to Middleton’s senatorial campaign. I never thought she’d kill my wife. Now she’s trying to pin it on me.’

Lucinda rolled her eyes. ‘Right. What about the other guy?’

‘What other guy?’ Frank asked.

‘Oh jeez, you know what other guy. The one you let into the house. The one you helped murder your wife, you lying son of a bitch.’

‘Lieutenant,’ Robin interrupted. ‘If you are going to continue in this vein, we need to read Mr Eagleton his rights.’

‘Screw that,’ Lucinda snapped.

‘Lieutenant, you’re injured and you’re in pain. But you know I’m right.’

‘Of course you are. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.’

Robin suppressed a laugh. ‘No, Lieutenant, you don’t have to like it one little bit.’

The stretcher arrived and two emergency techs loaded Frank onto it and rolled him outside. The paramedic knelt beside Lucinda and said, ‘Your turn, Lieutenant.’

‘I’m fine. I’ll drive down to the emergency room when I finish here.’

‘Don’t mind me, Lieutenant. I’m used to dealing with hysterical victims at both crime and accident scenes. I know how to ignore them very well,’ he said as he cut up the side of the skirt of her navy suit with a pair of scissors.

‘I am not hysterical.’

‘Patients after trauma are often hysterical, in denial or in shock. Whatever it is, I just ignore them and continue with what needs to be done.’

‘Whatever, but I have a job to do.’

‘I’m sure you do, Lieutenant, but so do I. You’ve got a nasty little puncture wound here but it’s not too deep at all. We’ll need to have a doctor double-check it, maybe put in a couple of stitches and get you a tetanus shot. But then you’ll be good to go.’

‘I don’t need to go in an ambulance.’

‘You want me to lose my job?’

‘Let’s not be ridiculous,’ Lucinda said.

‘I could say the same to you, Lieutenant. Let us take proper care of you and then you can go on your way. If you resist, I’ll have to call your captain.’

Lucinda exhaled. ‘Fine.’ She kept her mouth shut as she was loaded onto a stretcher and rolled to an ambulance. She hated not standing on her own two feet but she certainly didn’t want to drag her captain into it.

Twenty minutes later, she lay in a bed in a bay of the treatment area of the emergency room with curtains drawn around her. She heard the metal hangers rattle on the ceiling track as the curtain pulled back to reveal Jake.

‘Lucinda,’ he said, grabbing her hand and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

‘I won’t break, Jake.’

He lowered his mouth to hers, sucking her lower lip in between his teeth. Pulling back, he said, ‘Oh, that was nice.’

‘Get me out of here and you can have more of them.’

A white jacketed arm poked in through the curtain and shoved it back on its rails. ‘Good evening, Lieutenant,’ a young doctor said as he looked down at the metal clipboard in his hand. ‘Looks like you’ve had a bad day.’ Turning to Jake, he said, ‘You’re going to have to leave for a bit while I examine my patient.’