Got it.
With the gun pointed at Shotgun-Guy, he lifted his foot. “Flip over.” Gavin waited for him to roll then jammed his foot into his back to hold him down. “Keep still.”
At the front window, Joe stood with his gun aimed at Gavin. The tremble of his hand indicated fear. Afraid to fire.
“What the hell?” the third hostage taker hollered, charging in from the dining room.
“Don’t move!” Gavin said and the guy halted. “Go over by Joe. On the floor, facedown, hands on your head. Now!”
In Gavin’s mind, this guy’s decision should not have been a difficult one. Considering the shotgun at his buddy’s head. With assessing eyes, the guy swung his head to Joe, back to Gavin and that shotgun and hustled to the window where he dropped to the floor. In the sudden silence, voices—tight in their urgency—came over the radio. They’d have to wait a sec.
“Rox, you okay?”
“I am.”
Joe swung his gun between Gavin and Roxann. “Nobody move!”
“Here’s the deal,” Gavin said. “I got a bunch of guys out there hoping to tear this place apart. We’ve just had shots fired. If I don’t get on that radio and tell them something, they’ll go balls to the wall. You don’t want that. Rox, get on the radio and tell them we’re okay.”
Slowly, Roxann reached for the radio still on the coffee table.
“Thank you,” he said. “When you’re done, stay on the couch.”
Away from the guns.
* * *
“Shots fired!” Janet yelled, her eyes focused on the monitor overhead.
Vic lifted his handset. “What are those goddamned shots? Status!”
“Inside the house,” Monk said.
A small squeak sounded in Janet’s throat. All day she’d kept the fear at bay, locked down that emotional swamp waiting to submerge her, to steal the air from her body, and now, just maybe, it would overtake her. “What if…”
Vic stared at her for a split second. “Focus!”
“We’re fine.” Roxann. Through the radio.
Janet’s heart crumbled. Just fell apart in a way that left her body splintered and aching. Too much stress. She concentrated on staying alert as her breaths came fast and short. God, Janet, don’t cry.
“No one is hurt.” This from Gavin, but his voice sounded distant. As if away from the radio. “I’ve secured two of the HTs. Now Joe and I are gonna talk and see if we can resolve this.”
“My ass,” Vic said. “We’re done here. My guys are coming in.”
“Joe still has a weapon. Give me a few minutes.”
“Crap,” Janet muttered. She turned to her boss who stared at the ceiling, his head slowly moving back and forth. Contemplating. There were times when Vic was dug in. Resolute. During those times, his commands were swift and decisive. This was not one of those times.
“He can do this,” she said. “He’s already subdued two of them. He’s been working this guy all day. Joe, on a certain level, trusts him. Give him ten more minutes.”
A long moment passed where the only sounds registering were the whirring of her laptop and the rustle of leaves outside. Janet breathed in and her head stopped pounding. The fear had backed off. The emotional flood receding. Thank you.
Vic hit the button on his radio. “Ten minutes and we’re coming in.”
* * *
Gavin stared right into Joe’s eyes. “You heard him. We’ve got ten minutes. We’re either gonna kill each other or we’ll walk out of here. What’s it gonna be?”
Joe’s gaze went to the HT wiggling around under Gavin’s foot, the shotgun still pointed at him. The other guy stayed on the floor, but his eyes shifted back and forth. Roxann, being Roxann, twisted around, yanked the lamp cord from the wall, wrapped her hand around the heavy brass base and brought the lamp to her lap.
She understood the benefits of brass lamps as weapons. One good swing and she’d crack someone’s skull.
“Hey!” Joe yelled, aiming the gun at her.
Gavin swung the shotgun in Joe’s direction. “Relax. She’s not going anywhere.”
Rox removed the shade and checked the heft of the lamp. “Insurance.”
No wonder Mike adored her. Right now though, he had eight minutes to get Joe’s gun pointed back at him and end this thing.
“Joe, your mission is coming apart. Stop now and everyone walks out safely. Nobody is hurt. Nobody is dead.”
From under Gavin’s foot the guy on the floor said, “Don’t—”
Gavin pressed his foot down. “You shut up.”
After a gasping noise from his prisoner, figuring the point had been made, Gavin eased up. Joe’s gaze bounced all over the room. Silent panic.
Move in.
“Somehow,” Gavin said, “whoever these guys are, whatever they mean to you, I don’t think they rank with watching your son grow into a man. That’s the only decision you need to make right now. Are these two, this mission, worth you losing the opportunity to take your son for ice cream every night? Or to ballgames for the next twenty years? Watching him graduate? Get married? What’s it worth to you, Joe?”
With any luck, it would be enough to get them out of there.
* * *
Janet sat on the stupid, miserable, spine-mangling folding chair, her equally miserable boss towering over her, his gaze glued to the monitor above her head, both of them—for different reasons—counting down the minutes. Theoretically, she and Vic were of the same mind in wanting the standoff to be over, but Vic wanted to breach and Janet wanted everyone to exit on their own.
Either way, she supposed, someone could die. And maybe she was a horrible person, but she didn’t want either person to be Gavin or Roxann. The other ones? They created this mess, they’d have to deal with the consequences.
Horrible person.
“Five minutes,” Vic announced.
He strode to the table and grabbed a vest, sliding it on with the ease of a man putting on a dress shirt. “I’m heading up there. Mike is probably ready to haul ass into the house. Without a vest or weapon. Goddamned head-shrinker.”
Enough already. Beleaguered from the battle of controlling her emotions, her last standing nerve snapped. She shot out of her chair. “He was afraid Rox would get hurt. That’s why he went in. He’s trying to save her and you being a pain in the butt is not helping.”
But Vic was already out the door. Not that he would have listened anyway. At least not in his current mental state. Another thing she knew about her boss. When he was in his zone—as in now—he only dealt with the task at hand.
Jason’s mother entered the barn, her face drawn. Jason didn’t trail behind and Janet assumed he would still be in his mother’s car. “What’s happening?”
“I’m not sure.” Liar. “Give me a couple of minutes to find out. Please, go back to your car and wait. Just until we know what’s going on.”
“Is he dead? Joe?”
And, oh, God, she needed some better people skills. What was she supposed to say to this woman whose son might wind up fatherless? Totally inept at this. Lacking options, she’d go with the truth. At least what she knew to be the truth. “No.”
The woman dropped her chin to her chest. “He’s a good father. Maybe he’s mixed up, but he adores Jason.”
Janet squeezed her arm. “I know. I was listening while he and Gavin talked. We’re trying to get him out safely. If you’ll promise to stay in your car, I’ll see if I can get you information. Will you do that for me?”
“Please, hurry.”
Janet grabbed a radio, spotted Gavin’s iPod and snatched that, as well. He’d want it when he came out. Yes, she’d allow herself to believe it. Allow the words to convince her that he would indeed walk out.
* * *
Joe lowered his gun and Gavin’s head throbbed.
Not home yet.
“No!” Shotgun-Guy yelled.
When it came to the idiot under his foot, Gavin’s insistence on a nonviolent res
olution quickly dissolved. He leaned in, adding extra pressure this time. “You shut up.”
His gaze solid on Shotgun-Guy, Joe said, “I’m done. I have a son to think about.”
“Pussy!”
This dumbass wouldn’t shut the hell up. Gavin leaned in harder. “Are you gonna keep quiet or do I have to shoot you?”
Shotgun-Guy bobbed his head. Finally. Gavin eased up, then swung his gun back to Joe. “I need you to put the gun on the floor and kick it toward the door.”
Half a second later, his shoulders stooped, Joe set the gun on the battered wood floor and slid it away.
“Good. Now, on the floor. Hands on top of your head.”
Joe did as he was told. “Rox, come around this way and grab that gun. Please.”
Not until Gavin had that weapon secured and Roxann out of this hellish place would he be relieved. A surrender could disintegrate in a thousand different ways. A thousand different ways that included dead hostage takers, dead hostages and dead negotiators.
None of which appealed.
* * *
By the time Janet got to the road, Vic had Michael wedged behind the cover of a tree. Another conversation she’d be totally inept at.
She concentrated on the house and the quiet country air. The rustle of leaves. Chirping birds. All the pleasant sounds.
All the sounds that didn’t include gunshots.
Maybe they’d get out of this. She held the radio to her lips. “Gavin? What’s happening?”
Silence.
Dammit. He’d better not die, that’s all she had to say. But that fierce, nagging panic seized her and her stomach pitched and rolled and rolled again. She didn’t want to imagine his body riddled with bullet holes, blood seeping, stealing the life from him.
She picked up her pace, walked by the tree toward the driveway.
“Hey!” Vic yelled. “Where the hell are you going?”
She kept walking.
“Well, goddammit,” Vic said and suddenly she was yanked backward, stumbling against her boss.
Janet blinked a couple of times, zoomed in on the taut features of his face. Mad face.
“I need you to get it together. You’ve got no vest on, no helmet and you’re about to walk into a hot zone. I don’t have time for you to get nuts on me. Got it?”
But I think I love him.
There it was, the admission to herself. The risking her life because a simple crush had grown into a deep yearning. Emotionally, she’d known it after that first kiss three weeks ago. Intellectually, she didn’t want to admit it.
Vic snapped his fingers in front of her face. “You in there?”
She nodded. “I’ve got it. Sorry.”
And then her radio crackled. Thank God. “We’re coming out,” Gavin said. “Send the men in to secure the HTs.”
Various sounds and colors exploded in her head. The chaos breaking free. Her body sagged with relief—or maybe it was simply exhaustion.
What a damned day.
Michael lurched away from the tree, but Vic rammed a hand into his chest. “Wait. Let’s get it cleared.”
Monk led the team into the house and seconds later the front door opened. Roxann stepped onto the porch with Gavin on her heels. Movement from the right drew Janet’s attention and she watched as Michael shoved Vic and sprinted down the driveway.
Wow. Who knew the boss could run like that?
“Mike!” Vic yelled.
Janet grabbed Vic’s arm. “Let him go.”
I know how he feels. Gavin ushered Roxann down the porch stairs and she held her arms open for her charging husband, who nearly knocked her backward. They held on for a long minute, just the two of them in that blasted driveway, clinging to each other, offering shelter from this horrid, horrid day.
Wow.
Without warning, the vile sadness Janet had buried in the deepest part of her tunneled its way out, clawing at her, reminding her she was a lonely computer geek who had long been misunderstood by the world. And worse, she was a lonely computer geek coveting the love Roxann Taylor had.
God’s sake, Janet, the woman was held hostage.
Sparing not a glance at Michael and Roxann, Gavin walked by them and headed straight toward her. She breathed in. Could this be the man who would finally accept, without judgment, her need to spend hours in front of a computer? The one strong enough to withstand the ridiculous amount of testosterone surrounding her on a daily basis?
On cue, a huge chunk of that testosterone, namely Vic, marched down the driveway toward Gavin, and Janet half ran to keep on his heels. Too damned many long-legged people in this world.
The three of them met halfway down the drive and Gavin stared at her for three seconds—she’d counted—before addressing Vic. “Everyone is safe. Your team is securing the HTs and the weapons.”
She spotted the tattered material on Gavin’s tac vest and sucked in a breath. “You got shot?”
“No. My vest got shot.”
Funny man. She’d slap him later. “Are you hurt?”
He slid his gaze to her. “No. The vest did its job.”
By the looks of that vest, it must have been a wallop.
Vic glanced to the house and shook his head. “Jesus, head-shrinker. You got a set of stones. Freaking lunatic.”
“Rudeness!” Janet said.
Gavin laughed. “Yeah, well, this mess is your problem now. You and Mike need to get Rox in front of a judge with these dopes. She’ll present probable cause in relation to the abduction and these boys are off the streets.”
“You know it, head-shrinker. They’re going down on this one. I’ll take them to the PD myself.”
Roxann would receive justice for her ordeal, but Joe’s son would lose his father. No winners anywhere and Janet’s heart tore an inch for that sweet young boy. At least his father was alive. She’d never understand how a man allowed himself to get sucked into something that risked his child’s happiness.
No wonder she spent so much time avoiding people.
Her gaze moved back to Michael and Roxann, still in the driveway, with Michael smothering kisses over her face and hands and then—would you look at that—her belly. After this, he’d never let Rox go anywhere alone. What a battle that would be. And so fun to watch. The insidious envy from moments ago vanished and Janet closed her eyes.
She’d get her turn.
She would.
She’d just have to wait.
The sound of the front door slapping alerted Vic to his team exiting the house and he marched toward them. Janet remained mesmerized by Michael and Roxann. “Did you see that?” she asked Gavin. “Amazing.”
When he didn’t respond, she retrieved the iPod from her pocket and held it out. He focused on her outstretched hand, but stayed quiet. Was having the iPod pushing it? Somehow an invasion? Too familiar? What?
People.
Give her a computer any day.
“It’s not a big deal,” she said. “I thought you might want it.”
He scooped the iPod from her hand and grabbed her arm. “Come with me. We’ll talk to the mother and son and send them on their way.”
That was it? Minutes ago, she’d admitted to herself that she loved this man and he was back to business as usual? Really? That bit about him being the one who might understand her?
Forget it.
* * *
Gavin talked Vic into letting Joe say goodbye to his son. The guy might be a certified nut job, but his son deserved a few minutes with the father he’d spend years without.
At least the kid would be able to visit a prison instead of a cemetery.
Something to be thankful for.
Watching the kid hug his father opened an enormous, aching hole in Gavin’s chest and he turned away.
“You okay?” Janet asked.
Maybe. If he could fill the hole, yes, he’d be okay. Once again, he grabbed Janet’s arm, hauling her with him to the barn. When he’d walked out of that house with Roxann, the sight
of Janet holding his iPod sent every emotion he possessed on a high-speed chase. She hadn’t just handed him the device, she understood his need to go inside himself and unwind. To relieve the stress and center himself.
Not only that, she encouraged it. How rare had it been to find a woman who had no expectation that he’d immediately talk about his feelings? Most times he never talked about his feelings. And women, at least the ones who had entered his realm, took issue with that.
But here stood quirky, dedicated Janet Fink who might be the person to fill that hollow place in his chest. If so, he’d have to step up and let her know.
Once inside the barn, he pulled the door closed and walked right up to her, his gaze steady on hers. Step up. “Yes. I saw that. Mike and Roxann. Yes, it was amazing.”
For years now he’d put his life on the line, trading places with hostages and jumping into mental battle with lunatics. Sure he’d saved lives, but at what cost? He’d lost a marriage to his job, not to mention a chunk of his own emotional freedom. If he continued on this path, in a few short years he’d be burned-out human flesh.
Not exactly something worth attaining. Beyond that, all he knew was Janet had been the first person he’d seen when he stepped out of the house.
She was important. What she’d be in his life, he wasn’t sure, but he knew he wanted to experience it.
Step up.
He kissed her. A solid press of his lips as he gathered this tiny peanut of a woman into his arms, crushing her ribs, wanting to feel her heartbeat. Everyone was alive. He was alive. After facing a shotgun aimed at him, he’d figured out what was important.
Resisting the urge to strip her naked in this broken-down barn, he backed away from the kiss. “Here it is.” She blinked a couple of times, focused those big brown eyes on him and he decided he might just be driven to begging. “You don’t report to me. I’m in no way your superior. You report to Vic.”
“Exactly.”
He squeezed her arms. “Can you deal with the gossip? Because it’ll be raging.”
“I know. It scares the hell out of me.”
“Me too. But the gossip will die down and then it’ll be us figuring each other out. That’s what I want. I want to figure out my life with you in it. I think that will be amazing.”
Editor's Choice Volume I - Slow summer Kisses, Kilts & kraken, Negotiating point Page 20
