He took a step forward, never taking his eyes off the gun. “We can talk this out,” he said again. “Just put the gun down, okay? We can talk this out.” He paused, licking his lips. “I was wrong before, okay? Remember how you said you were angry with me, and that’s why you said things to hurt me? Well, I was angry at you, too, Marian. What I said earlier, I said out of anger. I’m glad you are both here, okay? So let’s just talk this out. Put the gun down.”
“No,” she said harshly. The rest of her body was shaking, but her aim was rock-steady. “You’re a monster. You lied to me for years. You never loved me. You never loved me!” The last was screamed at the top of her lungs.
“Marian…”
Just then, Tyler came pelting into the room. He ran straight for A.J., ignoring his mother completely. “Daddy! Why is Mommy yelling?”
A.J. pulled the boy behind his legs, trying to put himself between Tyler and the gun. “I asked you to stay in the office,” he said. “Tyler…”
“No!” Tyler yelled.
“Get away from your father, Tyler,” Marian said in a deadly voice. “Get away from him and come to Mommy.”
Tyler buried his face against A.J.’s thigh. “No! I hate you! I don’t want to leave Daddy ever again!”
A.J. held his breath as the gun wavered, Marian’s whole body shaking as if she’d just been slapped. His heart was going a mile a minute, sweat dripping down his temples. Marian was unpredictable when she got like this. Totally out of control.
Marian lifted the pistol and pointed it at A.J.’s head again. “Make him come to me,” she said. “Make Tyler come over to me. Right now.”
“I won’t do that,” A.J. said calmly, though his heart was in his throat. “Not while you have a gun.”
“Make him come over here!” Marian screamed.
“I won’t,” A.J. refuted softly. Moving slowly, he dropped to his knees and turned Tyler to face him, cupping the boy’s cheek. “You need to go back to the office, okay? Go play another game for me…”
“No!” Tyler screamed, tears starting to run down his face. “I don’t want to leave you! I hate her! I never want to leave you again!”
A.J. swallowed, glancing at Marian. Her expression chilled him to the bone. He focused on Tyler again. “How about…how about you go hide under the covers in Daddy’s bedroom, huh? Remember, like we used to do when we played monster hunters?”
Tyler gave him a tearful nod, but didn’t move.
A.J. smoothed the hair off Tyler’s forehead with trembling fingers, trying to sound cheerful. “Yeah, you remember that. Like we used to do, okay? Go hide under the covers and get all cuddly. I’ll be in there soon and we can go monster hunting. Just go hide for me, okay?”
“You won’t leave?” Tyler whispered. “You won’t make me go back with her?”
A.J. winced. “No, bug, I won’t leave. But you really need to go hide now, okay? Go hide in Daddy’s room. Go hide under the covers.”
Tyler nodded, wiping tears from his own cheek before glaring at his mother. “I hate you. I hate you! I hate what you did to Daddy and I never want to see you again!” With that, he took off, running past Marian’s legs and disappearing down the hall. A.J. heard his bedroom door slam shut and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thick as thieves,” Marian whispered. A.J. looked back at her to find yet more tears smearing mascara all over her cheeks. She looked like a wild woman, the kind you’d see locked up in mental facilities. Where are the guys in the white coats when you need them?
A.J. cleared his throat. “Marian…”
“It was always the two of you,” she said, her voice high and tight. “Always the two of you. You only stayed with me for Tyler’s sake. You only tolerated me because of Tyler.”
A.J. rose to his feet, holding his palms up. “Marian, I realize you’re upset…”
“Upset? Upset?” Her shriek rattled the windows again. “Get out! Get the fuck out, A.J.!”
He swallowed. “Marian…this is my apartment…”
“Get out!”
Just then, someone started banging on A.J.’s door. “You okay, man?” said his neighbor, Roger. “What the hell is going on in there?”
Marian backed out of the kitchen, glancing toward the door while still holding the gun on A.J. “Make him leave,” she growled. “Now.”
A.J. cleared his throat, did it again, and said loudly, “Everything’s fine, Roger.”
“The hell it is!” Roger banged again. “You come out here and show me you’re okay, A.J. Or I swear to God, I’m calling the police.”
A.J. looked at Marian. “What do you want me to do?”
She flicked the gun toward the door and said, “Get rid of him. Get rid of him, and then you need to leave. Get rid of him!”
A.J. nodded, edging past Marian with his hands still out. He backed toward the door, keeping eye contact, until he felt the doorknob press against his lower back. He waited until Marian gave him a nod, then slowly turned, popped both deadbolts, and opened the door just enough to stick his head outside.
“See, Roger? I’m fine,” he said in a loud voice, looking directly into his neighbor’s brown eyes. Then he whispered, “Call 911. Now.” He raised his voice again. “It was just the TV, I promise. New sound system. Couldn’t figure out how to lower the volume.”
Roger scowled at him and hissed, “What the fuck is going on?”
A.J. shook his head and whispered again, “Call 911!”
Roger finally nodded. “All right,” he said loudly, “glad you’re okay, A.J. Was starting to get worried about you. Let me know if you need help, okay? I’m pretty good with…volume situations.”
A.J. shooed the man away, mouthing the words “Call 911” yet again. Then he shut the door and put his back to it before addressing Marian. “He’s gone. No harm done.”
“Do you think I’m that stupid?” Marian howled, advancing on him. She pressed the muzzle of the gun against his chest, making his heart stop. “I know what you did. I know what you just tried to do. You’re trying to get me arrested, A.J.! You’re trying to take Tyler away from me like I did to you!”
“Marian, no…” he lied.
She knew it. “Don’t fucking lie to me! Get out! Get out now! You always loved Tyler more than me. You twisted his mind since he was a baby, didn’t you! You turned him against me right from the start!”
A.J. frowned. “What the hell are you talk—”
“I know you did!” she screamed. “You always hated me! And you made my son hate me, too! Well, I’m done with both of you! Get out, A.J.! Get out now!”
“All right, I’ll leave,” he said calmly. “Just let me get Tyler…”
“No!” Marian’s eyes were completely wild, no sanity anywhere. She re-cocked the hammer on the pistol, taking several steps back but still pointing it at A.J.’s heart. “Get out! Get out now!”
A.J. nodded, reaching behind his back to turn the doorknob. “We can still talk about this, okay? It’s not too late, Marian. We can still work this out…”
“Get out!”
A.J. nodded again. His heart had climbed up into his throat, fear making him sweat ice-cold bullets at the thought of leaving a madwoman alone with his son. But she still had the gun. He didn’t know what else to do. Not without getting shot.
And the last thing he wanted was for his son to see his mother murder his father.
“All right, I’m going. But the police are coming, Marian. We need to work this out before they get here, okay? We still have time to work this out.”
“I know how to work it out,” she said in a strained, maniacal voice. “I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m going to make you hurt, A.J. I’m going to make you hurt just as much as you hurt me. Now get out. Before I shoot your lying heart out.”
A.J. backed out the door, holding his hands up the whole time. Marian advanced on him, coming to stand in the open doorway. Just as she took hold of the doorknob, A.J.’s neighbor stepped out onto their shared stoop.
“What the fuck, man? What’s going on…” He trailed off as he saw Marian in the doorway, still pointing her gun at A.J. “Holy fuck! What the fuck is going on?”
Marian regarded the man calmly for a silent moment. Then she slammed the door in both their faces. A.J.’s heart started pounding even harder when he heard both deadbolts click into place. He turned and grabbed Roger by the shirt-front.
“Tell me you called the police.”
Roger nodded vigorously. “Yeah, man. They should be here any minute…”
Just then, sirens sounded near the entrance to the apartment complex. A.J. turned and watched several cop cars screech into the parking lot, wondering if Ryder was among them.
“What the hell happened, man?” Roger demanded. “Who the fuck was that chick?”
“My ex-wife,” he said, watching several armed policemen exit their vehicles and head toward his staircase. He waved them up, glancing at Roger. “She went off the deep end. I don’t know what she’s capable of right now. You should get your wife and leave. Now.”
Roger scowled at him and started to ask more questions, but the first officer had arrived.
“Police. What’s going on?”
A.J. said, “Hostage situation. My ex-wife is in my apartment. She has a gun, and she has my five-year-old son with her.”
“Shit,” the officer said, looking at the closed door with a frown. “All right, we’ll take it from here.” He turned and yelled toward his fellows, “We need SWAT and a hostage negotiator, right now!”
A.J. tugged the officer’s sleeve. “We don’t have time for that! She’s unstable…”
“All the more reason to do this by the book,” the officer said flatly. “You need to get back. If she’s armed and dangerous, we need SWAT to—”
Bang!
A.J.’s heart stopped. In slow motion, he and the officer both turned to face the closed apartment door. A.J. started to reach for it, but the man pulled him back. “Leave it! Get back, now! We don’t know what we’ll find in there! Get back now…”
Bang!
The second gunshot ricocheted across the apartment complex, silencing everything in the vicinity. In the ensuing silence, A.J. moved. He kicked the door hard, twice in a row, splintering the flimsy wood frame. The officer was yelling at him, trying to hold him back, but A.J. was beyond hearing anything but the pounding of his own heart. He kicked the door again, causing the entire frame to shatter and the door to fly open, slamming against the interior wall. Before anyone else could react, A.J. bolted inside.
Nothing in the living room. A.J. headed for the hallway—and found Marian leaning against a wall. She still held the gun in one bloodied fist, and she had A.J.’s phone in her other hand. The back of her head was gone, blood splattered all over the wall behind her. Wide blue eyes stared at nothing, the mouth that had spewed such horrific things during their custody battle…now silenced forever.
Blood roaring in his ears, A.J. made his way to the bedroom.
And saw his worst nightmare.
“No…” A.J. whispered, stumbling to the bed. “No…God, Tyler…”
Tears streamed down his face as he gathered his son to his chest. Bright red blood was pumping out of a wound in Tyler’s chest. No, not pumping. His little heart had already stopped. His pale blue eyes, a legacy from A.J.’s heritage along with the black hair, were wide and staring at the ceiling. He looked surprised. A.J. kept staring at that precious little face, expecting him to blink.
But he didn’t.
“Tyler!” A.J. screamed, cupping the boy’s cheek with blood-covered fingers. “Tyler! No!”
“Get back!” said an unfamiliar voice. “Sir, you have to get back. This is a crime scene now.”
“Tyler!” A.J. screamed, shaking the boy in his arms. “Tyler, it’s Daddy! Wake up, baby! Wake up now!”
“Sir, you have to let go of him. You have to let go. He’s dead…”
“No!” A.J. shrieked. “No, he can’t be dead! Tyler? Tyler!”
The officer gently pulled Tyler out of A.J.’s arms while another he hadn’t noticed enter the room took hold of A.J.’s shoulders. A.J. kept staring at Tyler’s chest, ignoring the blood, hoping to see him breathe. His chest would rise, and he would start crying, letting A.J. know he was all right.
He stared.
And stared.
And stared.
But Tyler never moved.
“Tyler! Tyler!”
“Sir, please. Come away now, okay? Come away.”
A.J. shook out of the officer’s arms and tried to go to his son, but the man caught him and dragged him out of the room. He fought like a man possessed, but the officer was stronger, pulling him back, forcing him to leave his son’s side. There were other people in there, people A.J. hadn’t seen enter the room. People Tyler didn’t know. He’d be scared. He didn’t know those men. He needed his Daddy.
“Tyler! Tyler!”
“Sir, you need to calm down! Stop it, right now, or I’ll have to cuff you!”
“Tyler!”
Finally the officer managed to drag A.J. past his ex-wife’s body and out into the living room. A.J. went limp, his face wet with tears, and screamed his pain at the top of his lungs. The cop tried to comfort him, tried to get him to stop, but A.J. was beyond such petty concerns.
His son was dead. At his wife’s hand.
Tyler was dead.
A.J. collapsed to the floor, crying, howling like a madman. The cop stood over him, saying something over and over, but A.J. couldn’t hear him. All he could hear were gunshots, gunshots like bombs, going off inside his head over and over again. He would never see Tyler again. Never see his son grow up. Never hug him again, or hold him. His son was gone.
His life was gone.
A.J. quieted suddenly, though the tears still ran freely. The cop, appearing relieved, finally let go of him. A.J. watched several unfamiliar people mill around his apartment, all of them talking at once, but he didn’t hear any of them. He’d slipped into a black, narrow void, surrounded by soul-crushing pain. He couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
Like his son. His son, who would never breathe again.
A.J. didn’t want to breathe again, either.
With that single thought in mind, A.J. made his move. While the officers were moving around doing God knows what, he made up his mind and did what he had to do. One minute, he was sitting on the floor in his living room.
The next, he was scrambling on all fours, straight for Marian’s body.
The cop saw him. Probably said something. Probably tried to stop him. But it was too late. A.J. had the gun in his hand. Finger shaking, he cocked the hammer and pointed the muzzle at his own throat.
Someone screamed.
Someone shouted at him to stop.
Then pain blasted through A.J.’s body, and his darkness was complete.
Chapter 23
The cruiser’s radio suddenly crackled to life. “All units, all units. Murder-suicide at Red Oaks Apartments. All officers in the vicinity, please respond.”
Ryder looked up sharply, glancing at Shawn. “That’s A.J.’s apartment complex.”
Shawn nodded, reaching for the receiver. “Dispatch, we’re less than five minutes away.”
“What the fuck is going on?” Ryder growled, pulling out his phone. “I’m calling A.J.” He thumbed A.J.’s number and waited while it rang, but it went to voicemail. “Shit.”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Shawn said. “Just because it happened in his complex doesn’t mean he was involved.”
“I know,” Ryder said. But he dialed A.J.’s number again. It went to voicemail a second time. “Fuck! He always answers his phone. Always.”
“Maybe he’s in the bathroom,” Shawn suggested feebly.
Scowling, Ryder dialed a third time. Finally, the line clicked on. “Thank God, A.J.! Answer your fucking phone! We just heard something happened…”
“Who is this?” said an unfamiliar male voice.
Ryder exchanged looks with Shawn and said, “Detective Ryder St. Claire. Who the fuck is this?”
“Officer Ryan Callahan. Sir, how do you know the owner of this phone?”
“What do you mean, how do I know him?” Ryder snarled. “What the fuck does that matter? Where is A.J.? What the fuck happened?”
The officer took a deep breath. “Sir, Andre Johannes was taken to SLMC.”
“What?” Ryder whispered. He looked at Shawn. “Forget the apartment complex. Head for the hospital. Now.” Then he turned his attention back to the man on the other end of the line. “What happened? Is he all right?”
“Sir, I’m sorry, but I can’t give you any details. This is an active investigation. But, if you know Mr. Johannes…well, you should head for the hospital. He’s going to need all the help he can get.”
And the line went dead.
Heart pounding, Ryder met Shawn’s eyes and said, “Flip the lights. And step on it.”
Shawn nodded and hit the gas.
* * * *
Lyss leaned against the nursing station’s counter, toying with her half-empty coffee cup as she listened to the chaos growing around her. Word of shots fired at a nearby apartment complex had the whole ER on edge. She’d seen her fair share of gunshot wounds when she worked for Ben Taub, but this seemed to be an uncommon occurrence for the nurses here. The air was filled with a waiting, breathless energy, her colleagues poised on high alert.
“Got a hot one,” the charge nurse said, hanging up the phone. “Gunshot to the neck. Guy lost a lot of blood. Should be here any second.”
“Did they say what happened?” Lyss asked curiously.
The charge nurse, Genevieve, shrugged. “Not really. EMT said it was complicated. Two dead, one headed our way.” She looked up sharply as the exterior doors to the ambulance’s bay banged open. “Here they come.”
Lyss charged around the counter, just as the interior doors flew open and a stretcher came hurtling in, steered by four uniformed EMTs and a couple of cops. She whipped on her gloves and took hold of one of the gurney’s railings. “What have we got?”
“Gunshot wound to the lower neck. Bullet damn near took off the top of his shoulder, too. Missed the artery by a millimeter, poor bastard. PB is ninety over fifty-five and dropping, pulse ox eighty-two. We managed to stop the bleeding on the way, but he’s touch-and-go.”
Saints United [For Love of Authority 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 28
