Chapter 41
Julia parked her Jaguar on the side street and ran to the front of the building in search of her brother, André. Carey and Alaina, who were with Julia at the hospital visiting Lashay when she received the call from the building manager, followed close behind.
“What's the latest?” Julia immediately questioned upon approaching her youngest brother, Lieutenant André Simone.
“Julia, this is Lieutenant Clark. He's in charge,” André answered, then introduced Julia. “This is my sister, Julia. She owns this building. These are Staci's parents and her brothers.” He pointed in their direction.
Lieutenant Clark didn't waste any time. “Is there another way to access the tenth floor, other than the stairwell and elevator?” he asked Julia.
“There's a crawl vent on each floor with an outlet in the executive office, which would be Marcus's office. You can access it from the floor above.”
Lieutenant Clark spotted the hostage negotiator and excused himself.
André explained to Carey that with the help of the hostage negotiator and after getting a visual on Malcolm, they hoped to coax him out without having to use deadly force.
“My baby girl had better walk out of there alive,” Carey stated plainly.
André patted Carey on the back. “Don't worry, big brother. If Staci doesn't come out alive, neither will Malcolm.” Of that, André was certain, speaking as an uncle and not an officer sworn to uphold the law.
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“What are you doing here?” Marcus asked when Shannon waddled toward him.
She ignored his question. “Any news?”
“You shouldn't be out here this close to giving birth,” Marcus warned.
Shannon smirked. “And you shouldn't be out here this close to becoming a father.”
Marcus started to argue the point, then remembered Derrick's words and decided against it. Standing behind his wife, Marcus rested his arms round her extended abdomen and kissed the top of her head. “Stay close to me.”
Shannon placed her hands on top of Marcus's and looked around. “Where's Derrick?”
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“I don't love you,” Staci said for the third time. “I'm sorry, but it's the truth.”
“How can you not love me, after all we've shared?”
“Malcolm, the only thing we've shared was friendship; at least, what I thought was friendship.” Staci tried to ignore the piece of metal that was now pointed at her chest.
“Are you scared, Staci?” Malcolm leaned closer to her and planted his free hand on her knee, then slowly moved up her thigh. He tuned out the ringing telephone.
Staci stared stone-faced at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was terrified.
“I know you want me, and I'll let you have me later.” He was just about to place his hand under her skirt when she slapped his hand away.
“I don't want you! Now answer the phone!” she barked.
Malcolm stepped away from her and looked out the window at the ground below. The streets were covered with police cars, news vans, and throngs of people. This was turning out just the way he'd planned.
“Call him,” Malcolm ordered when he faced her again.
Perplexed, Staci asked, “Call who?”
“Why, the great Dr. Garrison, of course. Tell him to get his sorry behind over here, now. We have some unfinished business.”
Oh my God,
she thought. Her mind instantly went back to the dream she had two months ago. Malcolm was going to kill Derrick! That's why she didn't see Derrick in the dream. It's was Derrick's body Pastor Reggie was leaning over. Miss Cora was happy because her son was coming to join her. Staci hurriedly pushed that thought out of her mind. Malcolm was not taking her husband from her.
“You leave Derrick out of this. You wanted me; now you have me.” For the first time, Staci's voice trembled with emotion.
Malcolm laughed. “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you really love the coward.”
“I do love him. And that's something you'll never hear me say about you!”
Malcolm's hand raised, but he resisted the urge to punch her again. Instead, he unclipped his cell phone and thrust it in her face. “Call him!”
“That won't be necessary,” Derrick said as he stepped into the reception area.
Chapter 42
“Any updates?” Pastor Reggie asked when he and Staci's grandparents joined the family gathered across the street from the building's entrance.
“He won't answer the phone. The hostage negotiator has been calling every minute. The air conditioner has been turned off in hopes he'll get too hot and decide to come out,” Julia answered after embracing her husband.
“Are you in charge, son?” Grandma Ana asked her youngest child, André.
“No, Mom. I can't lead an operation I have a personal interest in,” André answered. “But Lieutenant Clark is doing everything by the book.”
“Humph, I'm going to do everything by the book tooâmy book,” Grandma Ana replied. “
My
book tells me that the effectual fervent prayers of a righteous man, or woman, avails much. And that no weapon that is formed against me, or my family, shall prosper.”
“Amen, Mama,” Carey Jr. said. He, along with the rest of the family, knew what was coming next. In the midst of all the chaos and confusion, the Simones assembled in a circle with hands held and prayed out loud. What did surprise everyone was Craig's offer to lead the prayer.
“Thank you, son, but we need this prayer to get through,” Carey Jr. said.
“It will, Dad. I've stopped running and turned my life over to Christ. He's now the Lord of my life.”
Alaina gasped. “Since when?”
Craig looked thoughtful. “Mama, I guess since the day you dedicated me to Him. As far as I can remember, I've heard God calling me. I've felt Him tugging at my heart, but I wanted to do my own thing. Today's events have helped me to fully understand that life is too short and holds no promises.” He pointed to the ground. “I knelt right here and repented, then surrendered my life to His will.”
Marcus embraced his brother. Carey wrapped his arms around both of his sons. No words were exchanged.
“If my baby wasn't being held by a madman, I'd dance in the spirit right here on the sidewalk in front of these news cameras.” Instead, Alaina leaped a few times.
The prayer and praises sent up by the family caught the attention of onlookers. Craig prayed with such fervor and power, some of the spectators joined in. No sooner had Pastor Reggie echoed Craig's amen, Shannon's water broke.
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Staci temporarily forgot Malcolm was pointing a loaded gun at her and instantly jumped up and ran to Derrick. She reached up and draped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest.
“Are you all right?” he asked. He returned her embrace, but kept his eyes fixed on the gun-toting madman.
Staci nodded her answer, too overwhelmed with emotion to speak. Feeling safe in her husband's arms, she released the tears she'd been holding. “Honey, I'm so sorry. This is my fault.”
“Shush.” Derrick brushed the curls from her face. He flinched when he saw the dried bloodstain trailing from her nose to her lower lip. He glared at Malcolm. It took every ounce of restraint in him to keep from grabbing him by the throat. He couldn't do that until he was sure Staci was safe.
“Take your hands off my woman!” Malcolm roared, then yanked Staci away from him.
Derrick started for him, but stopped when Malcolm aimed the weapon at Staci's head. Avoiding Staci's face, Derrick focused his eyes on Malcolm. The horror on her face almost made him lose it.
“Let her go; then you and I can handle this, man to man.”
Malcolm smirked. “What man is going to stand in for you?”
“You should answer the phone. It's probably the police wanting to know what your demands are,” Derrick suggested.
“I don't have any demands, other than seeing you beg for your life like a dog.” Malcolm then reached back with his free hand and yanked the telephone cord out of the socket.
Outside on the sidewalk, Shannon moaned, “Oh, God,” while rubbing her stomach.
“Baby, we need to get to the hospital.” Marcus massaged her lower back.
“I know, but I don't want to leave until I know Derrick and Staci are safe.” Shannon looked over her shoulder at Marcus. “And neither do you.”
“Listen to your husband. You need to go.”
Shannon knew Grandma Ana's suggestion was really a command, but she decided to challenge her anyway. “St. John's is only ten minutes away, and my contractions aren't real hard yet.”
Grandma Ana was about to give Shannon one of those Oh-no-you-didn't-challenge-me looks, but she didn't have to. Shannon's next contraction almost knocked her to her knees. After that, she didn't protest. She gladly let her husband carry her to the car.
“Lieutenant Clark, the phone line went dead,” the hostage negotiator called over her shoulder.
Lieutenant Clark looked up to see André staring at him, waiting for him to make the call. The lieutenant gave the signal, and immediately, the SWAT team rushed into the building.
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“Why did you have to come back?” Malcolm asked while waving the gun in Derrick's face like a toy. “Why didn't you just stay away? My family and I were doing fine until you showed up.” Malcolm was standing in front of Derrick, taunting him, but Derrick knew mentally Malcolm had left the building. “Now you're going to pay for it, but not before you beg for my forgiveness.” Malcolm aimed the gun at Derrick's chest. “Beg! Say you're sorry!” he ordered. His head dripped with sweat.
“Jesus, Jesus, Jesus,” Staci said repeatedly. There was no way her husband would beg Malcolm for anything.
Derrick's only response was a hard stare that made Malcolm flinch, even though he was the one holding the loaded gun. He then pointed the barrel at Derrick's head. “Beg!” Malcolm screamed.
Staci slowly moved over to Derrick and interlocked her arm with his.
“I will not beg you for anything,” Derrick said calmly and stepped in front of Staci.
Malcolm was confused. This was not turning out like he'd planned. Derrick was supposed to beg for his life. Malcolm would enjoy that more than he would enjoy blowing his head off. He needed him to beg so Staci could see for herself what a coward he is. Malcolm glared at Staci standing behind Derrick. She was supposed to be on his side. How else would Staci let him make love to her after he killed Derrick? That was his plan: make Derrick beg for his life, and then blow his head off. Then after he and Staci made love, use the remaining two bullets to make sure she would die his woman.
When Derrick didn't budge, Malcolm rubbed his head and stepped back.
“Why can't you do what you're supposed to do?” he yelled, waving the gun in the air. “You're supposed to beg!” Malcolm was near tears. “Now you'll pay double!” He cocked the gun, but before he squeezed the trigger, they heard a thud coming from Marcus's office.
The last thing Staci saw was Marcus's office door open abruptly. Derrick threw her down on the floor and covered her with his body just before the sound of gunfire erupted.
Chapter 43
Lieutenant André Simone waited with Lieutenant Clark for word from the SWAT team. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard through the two-way radio that the suspect was no longer a threat, but stiffened again when he heard one of the hostages had been wounded. He motioned for the paramedics.
Inside the office, Derrick slowly moved off Staci with eyes glued on the officer checking for Malcolm's pulse. Derrick wondered if the relief he felt in knowing Malcolm was dead was good or bad, but didn't dwell on it. The man was no longer a threat to him or his wife. That mattered the most. Staci's shaking and whimpering redirected his attention.
“Everything is all right, sweetheart,” he said and stroked her back.
Staci turned over and lifted her head, then shrieked when she saw Malcolm's brains splattered over the carpet. Derrick used his arms to turn his body so she wouldn't be able to see the bloody corpse. Staci gripped him like he was her last lifeline. Derrick grimaced, but held on to her trembling body.
“Dr. Garrison, the paramedics are on the way up,” the young officer said.
“Thank you,” Derrick answered, but continued to focus on Staci.
When she processed the officer's words, Staci turned and looked into Derrick's face. “Why are the paramedics coming?” She pointed in Malcolm's direction. “He's dead, and I wasn't hit.”
“The paramedics are for me.”
Staci followed his eyes to his left thigh. “Oh my God, you've been shot!” She jumped to her feet and began running frantic around the room. She was so hysterical, two officers tried unsuccessfully to calm her down. “He needs to get to a hospital!” she screamed.
“Mrs. Garrison, the paramedics are already outside. They will be up here any second.”
“Baby, it's not as bad as you think. I don't think the wound is that deep,” Derrick tried to assure her, but he wasn't so sure himself.
“Yes, it is!” she screamed. His blood-soaked leg told her another story. “There's blood everywhere!”
André came up with the paramedics. Relieved to find his niece all right, he talked with the SWAT team. He learned that Malcolm fired two shots. The first shot, intended for Staci, was lodged in Derrick's leg. Malcolm then pointed the firearm at his temple and literally blew his own brains out.
“Come on, let them work.” André ordered Staci to let go of Derrick so the paramedics could tend to him.
“But look at all this blood!”
“Stacelyn,” her uncle's voice remained firm, “let the paramedics take care of him.”
“Okay.” She nodded and moved out of the way. She never relinquished Derrick's hand, and she never stopped praying.
Once outside, Staci waved to her family as she walked alongside the gurney transporting Derrick, but didn't stop to talk.
“What hospital are they taking him to?” she heard someone ask.
“St. John's,” she called over her shoulder, just before climbing into the ambulance.