The Running Series Complete Collection: 3-Book Set plus Bonus Novella (48 page)

Read The Running Series Complete Collection: 3-Book Set plus Bonus Novella Online

Authors: Suzanne Sweeney

Tags: #Romance, #New Adult, #BEACH, #Contemporary, #Suspense, #FOOTBALL

“It sounds to me like Ms. DeVeau’s initial intention was to cause you distress, Miss Fletcher, and in doing so, make you seem weak and vulnerable in the eyes of Mr. McGuire.”  He pauses to let us consider his evaluation of our situation. 

“Rather than creating a rift between the two of you, the events seem to have brought out Mr. McGuire’s protective instinct and drawn the two of you closer together.”  His observation is remarkably profound, considering the fact that he’s never met any of us before. 

“Chief Bennett, can I ask you something?” I request.  “Do you have any idea what’s happening now?  Why did she suddenly get violent and destructive?”

“I haven’t quite pieced that together yet.  Perhaps her lack of success at attaining her personal goals made her increasingly frustrated and desperate.  From what I know about her professional success, she’s not accustomed to failure.  If she has some sort of a personality disorder, we may be witnessing the beginning of her unraveling.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?”

He asks us questions about entrances and exits to the house.  Adam gives him details about my newly installed security system.  He thanks us and asks us to remain close by incase any additional information is needed.  We turn to walk away, and I see the Chief immediately make a call, presumably to share his new information.

As we get closer to Emmy, Derek and Marcus, I hear a familiar voice calling to me.  It’s a voice that brings me some much-needed comfort.  It’s Auggie.  I rush into his arms.  “Thank God you’re here.  I tried to call you.  Where were you?”

“Brandon and I were in Atlantic City when Evan called me a little over an hour ago.  He said the two of you were leaving the bar and that you were coming home to pick up a few things.  He wanted to know if I was going to be home.  He sounded a little weird, though, Jepetto.”

“He said he was with me?  Are you sure?”

“Yeah, but like I said, it was weird.  He kept calling you Jette.  He never calls you Jette.  I’ve only ever heard him call you Juliette.  He kept saying ‘Jette and I are coming over to the house’, and ‘Jette wants to pick up a few things’ and ‘Jette was wondering if you’ll be home when we get there’.  Isn’t that strange?”

“Oh, Auggie, everything about this night is strange, but I’m so glad you’re here,” I tell him.

“I had a feeling something was wrong.  Brandon and I left right away and he dropped me off here.  There’s a barricade at the end of the street.  He wanted to come, too, but there’s nowhere to park the car.  He’s circling the block looking for a place to park.  What’s going on?  Where’s Evan?”

Once again, I have to recount the entire story, but this time I include Chief Bennett’s take on the situation, too.  “Auggie, would you be willing to tell the Chief about Evan’s phone call?  I’m not sure if it’s important, but I have a feeling it might help.”

As Auggie and I speak with the chief, I see inspiration spark in his eye.  Chief Bennett asks Auggie to clarify something, “So, when Mr. McGuire was in the car with Ms. DeVeau, he referred to her as ‘Jette’, which is Miss Fletcher’s nickname.  Are you certain?”

“One hundred percent, sir.  Why?”  Auggie asks.

“This helps us to understand why Mr. McGuire may have brought her here.  If she believes herself to be Miss Fletcher, then bringing her here may have been his way of creating a cognitive dissonance.”

Auggie and I look at each other, shaking our heads.  “I’m sorry, Chief, but I don’t know what that means.”

“It’s a feeling of discomfort you experience when two different sets of beliefs, or in this case, realities, come into conflict.  She has altered her appearance to look like you, changed into a special article of your clothing that was purchased by Mr. McGuire, and has taken on your role as his girlfriend.  That’s her fantasy.  But being in your house presents her with the reality that this is not her home.”   

I am speechless.  Auggie asks the Chief the question I’m wresting with, but unable to verbalize.  “Sir, are you saying that Averee DeVeau thinks she’s Juliette?”

“Only a medical professional can tell us that, but I do think it’s a very likely scenario,” he explains.

“So, how does that help us, Chief?” I wonder.

“Well, it could complicate things significantly.  If Ms. DeVeau begins to realize that her fantasy is in direct conflict with reality, she may become increasingly violent.  Please excuse me.  I’d like to consult with someone from the Crisis Unit at Jersey Shore Medical Center.”  Chief Bennett is back on the phone, and we’re back to square one, helpless bystanders.

We rejoin our friends who have gathered in the middle of the street.  Brandon has joined them, too.  The retired couple across the street, Roger and Mary, have brought out coffee for all of us.  It seems Emmy has made fast friends with them and gave them all the details about our ordeal.  I’m actually grateful for the jolt of caffeine.  They place lawn chairs for us on their front lawn, and finally, after nearly an hour, it feels good to sit down.  Every muscle in my body aches.  How much longer can this go on?

Finally, there’s some activity when I see a woman walk up to the front door and engage someone in the house in a conversation.  We watch anxiously, hoping that we’ll see the two of them emerge through the front door.  Instead, after just a few minutes, we hear shouting and the slamming of a door.  The woman walks away, momentarily defeated.

The police are doing a superior job of keeping the news crews at bay.  My friends and I are permitted to stay within the barricade, so long as we remain off the property. 

My phone rings and it’s Evan’s parents calling.  They’re here, but cannot get past the barricade.  I tell them to stay in their car while I ask Chief Bennett if they can join us.  Without hesitation, he agrees and sends an officer to escort them through the police line. 

Physical and mental exhaustion has set in, and I’m afraid that the evening’s events are clearly reflected on my face.  Jill takes one look at me and knows immediately the gravity of the situation.

She asks, “Juliette, be honest with us, please.  How bad is it?  What’s going on?”

“How we got here is a long story, but the end result is that Averee DeVeau is locked in my house with Evan and she’s mentally unstable.  She’s got a weapon, although no one will tell us exactly what,” I explain.

“I’d like to speak with someone in charge.  Would you please excuse me?  Jill, stay here with Juliette.  I’ll be right back,” John states.  Adam offers to introduce him to the Chief, and the two of them make their way to find him.

Jill joins me and takes a seat on an available lawn chair.  I give her some more of the history that brought us here.  She knows about my stalker.  We shared that with his parents during our Easter visit.  But she’s every bit as surprised as we were to learn that it was one of Evan’s former girlfriends to blame.

When John returns, he looks pensive and sullen.  He is running his hands through his hair, and I’m immediately reminded of Evan.  He is so much like his father.  Adam’s face is no better.  Whatever the Police Chief has shared with them cannot be good.

Jill rises from her seat when John approaches and asks him for the latest news.  “Nothing new, darling.  All I know is that the Crisis Unit is here and they are negotiating with both Averee and Evan.  But no one will tell me what they’re saying.”

For the next several hours, the nine of us sit around, waiting for the occasional visit from one of the officers who’s been assigned with the task of drip-feeding us useless information. 

We watch as the negotiator, whom I’ve nicknamed
The Closer
because she looks like Kyra Sedgwick, makes numerous trips to the front porch and back.  Each time she makes a move towards the house, our hopes rise.  And every time she walks away, our hopes are dashed.  This roller coaster ride is making me physically sick.

As the sun begins to rise, we are all getting increasingly impatient and frustrated.  Just as I’m about ready to demand that something be done, Chief Bennett approaches our small group.  We haven’t heard from him in hours.  Perhaps things are starting to accelerate.

“We are preparing to send in a tactical team through the rear of the residence.  We’re hoping to bring this to an end within the hour.  We want you to be prepared.  Ms. DeVeau’s delusional thinking is beginning to crack, and we feel the likelihood of a peaceful resolution is dwindling.”  He states all of this so matter-of-factly, it takes a full minute for his words to sink in.  Men with guns are going to force their way into my home.

Jill and John hold onto each other for comfort.  Auggie comes to me, places an arm around my waist, and pulls me close.  He whispers in my ear, “No matter what happens, I’ll be right here, Jepetto.”

Derek, Emmy, Marcus and Adam gather around, too.  They all mutter words of encouragement, but I cannot hear a word they are saying.  All I can hear is the blood rushing through my veins and pounding in my ears.

Without warning or preparation, signs of a conflict begin.  The first thing I hear is the violent crashing in of my back door, followed by the loud, territorial barking of Maddy.  Shouting ensues, and I notice that the barking has abruptly stopped.  Images begin rushing through my mind of my dog being silenced, brutally.  I don’t remember telling the police about Maddy.  How could I be so irresponsible?  They don’t know if she’s a dangerous animal or a gentle family pet. I bury my face in Auggie’s shirt, terrified for what may come next.

Shouting, shattering, and smashing echo into the streets.  Then, a rush of medical personnel burst across the lawn and in through the front door.  Men and women carrying medical equipment and pushing a gurney hurry into the house.

Time seems to be standing still.  A dozen or so men and women have entered, but none have come out.  My imagination is running wild.  The shouting has stopped and now all we hear is a painful, dreadful silence.  We turn to ask the Chief what’s happening, but he’s nowhere to be seen.  There is no one to here to tell us anything.

I want to run to the door and force myself inside.  I tried that once before and I almost made it.  Perhaps Adam and the others sense my intention, because I’m now surrounded by my friends, all trying to comfort me, and one another.

The first to emerge from the house are members of the tactical team.  They are dressed in black fatigues, all toting some sort of guns or rifles.  I see one man at the rear of the brigade, and he is not carrying a gun, but rather, a rope.  Following dutifully behind is Maddy, looking slightly shell-shocked, but no worse for the weather.  Unable to speak, I look at Auggie. Not needing a prompt, Auggie goes to collect Maddy for us.  Thank God she’s OK. 

Next to exit is a medical team, scurrying with a gurney.  They are all hovering over their patient, and there is no way we can see who that may be.  There are no less than five people attending, and all we can see is a white cloth covering the torso.  They seem to be speaking with whoever is lying on the stretcher.  I hold my breath, unable to force my lungs to do their job.  There is a fifty-fifty chance that the person they are wheeling away is Evan. 

Before I can will my legs to move, the patient is loaded into the back of an ambulance that just pulled up.  The doors slam shut and off they go, sirens wailing and lights flashing.  Gone.  No one speaks a word.  No one moves.

All of us look at each other, unable to process what’s happening around us.  One person came out of the house.  We don’t yet know if it’s Evan.  Where is the second person?  Why hasn’t anyone come over to talk with us?  What does all of this mean?

No sooner have the thoughts swirled in my mind, when I see Chief Bennett striding straight towards us.  In the short time I’ve known him, his expression has remained stoic, not revealing or indicating any clue as to his true emotions.  I would imagine he’s very good at poker.

“OK,” he begins.  “That was Miss DeVeau being taken to Jersey Shore Medical Center.  She has received some injuries and has been sedated by the medical team to assist in her transport.  Her wounds do not seem to be life threatening.”

It’s Evan’s father who speaks.  “And my son?  What can you tell me about Evan?”  His normally strong and commanding voice is barely above a whisper.  He’s scared.

“He’s being checked by the medical team now.  He also received some physical injuries, and they are preparing to transport him to Jersey Shore Medical Center as well,” Chief Bennett explains.

My knees feel weak.  I don’t know if I can hold myself up any longer.  I grab tight onto Auggie.  Everything seems to be closing in on me.  All I can hear is a ringing in my ears.  My vision is starting to narrow.  Darkness is closing in.  I struggle to keep focused on the front door, waiting for some sign of him, something to hold onto.  I barely hear the chief talking anymore.  They’re still talking, but I can no longer hear their voices. 

Just before my entire field of vision dissolves, I see the front door open.  An EMT is holding the door open, waiting for someone to pass through.  I force myself to stay alert, maintaining my attention on the events taking place on my front porch.  Moving slowly but steadily through the front door, taking one cautious step at a time is Evan!  His right hand is wrapped in bandages, and he looks like he’s been through a warzone, but he’s walking on his own two feet.

A new wave of adrenaline shoots through my system, and I bolt away like a freight train, heading straight for him.  He’s holding his injured hand gingerly, keeping it elevated.  Just as I’m about to crash into him, the EMT steps between us, stopping me.  “Slow down,” he says.

“Hey, baby,” Evan looks at me and my heart sings.  “Long time, no see.”  He’s forcing a smile, I can tell.  But I don’t care.  He’s here with me, and it’s over.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Letting the Dust Settle

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