They walked down the hallway to Micah’s room. The officer at the door checked their ID and waved them in. Belinda sat next to Micah holding his hand while Zeke reclined on the window seat watching television with Laila beside him. Zeke sat up when they entered.
“How’s he doing?” Haley walked to the bed and ran a hand over his head. He didn’t move.
Belinda sighed. “Not good. He’s sleeping a lot more. I think he’s really running out of time. The doctor told me he wouldn’t be leaving here until he had a new heart or . . .” She swallowed and looked away.
Or he died. Steven understood the unspoken words.
Zeke stood and paced to the door, then back to the window seat. “I want to go to the center today. You think that would be all right?”
Haley hesitated, then said, “Laila, you go with him. Christina can stay here with Belinda and Micah. I’ll try to stop by the center soon.”
“Of course,” Laila said. “Let’s take the back stairs.”
“Why?” Zeke asked.
“Precaution.”
She and Zeke walked out of the room. Belinda’s shoulders sagged. Steven met Haley’s eyes and she tilted her head toward the door. He got the message. “I’m going to grab a snack,” he said. “I’ll bring you guys something.”
Christina opened the door. “And I’ll just be out here with the officer keeping an eye out for Richie.”
“Thanks,” Haley said. “I won’t be but a few minutes and then I want to check on my grandfather.” She paused. “Actually, do you mind seeing what you can find out about him?”
“Sure,” Steven said and shut the door behind him. He turned and came face-to-face with Richie, now sporting dreadlocks.
“Richie Derrick, fancy meeting you here. You’re under arrest.” Steven reached for his weapon.
Richie’s hand shot out to grab a young woman who had the misfortune to choose that moment to exit the room nearest Micah’s, then pulled a gun from behind his back and aimed it at his startled hostage’s head. “Get out of my way, cop.”
Haley heard Richie’s order just as the door clicked shut. Next she heard screams and a heavy crash.
Micah’s eyes fluttered open. “What’s going on?”
“It’s okay, baby,” Belinda said. She looked at Haley and raised her brows.
“Put the weapon down, Richie! Let her go!” Steven’s command came from the hall.
She heard Belinda’s startled gasp. “Richie?”
“Call 911,” Haley ordered and pulled her weapon. “He’s not getting in here.”
“Zeke,” Belinda whispered.
Haley dared a quick glance at her phone. “Laila didn’t call or text, so they missed him by seconds. Zeke’s safe.”
“You don’t know that. Maybe she couldn’t text or call. Maybe he’s already killed them.”
She rushed to the door and Haley caught her arm to pull her back. “Don’t. Please. Trust Laila to do her job and protect Zeke. Get back and stay near Micah.” Belinda’s nostrils flared and for a moment Haley feared she’d ignore her. “Please,” Haley said. “Trust me. Trust us.”
Belinda did as requested and Haley walked to the door.
“Belinda!” Richie called out. “You come out here!”
“Put the gun down!”
“Put it down!”
Steven and Christina were shouting orders and Richie was obviously not obeying.
Haley stayed ready at the door. They would take him down out there or she would do what she had to do if he managed to get the door open.
It was a standoff. Steven held his gun steady on Richie, who had his back against the wall. Richie clutched his weapon in a deadly grip against the trembling woman’s temple, using her as a shield. If Steven had had a clear shot, he’d have taken it, but Richie had moved fast and Steven simply couldn’t take a chance that he’d miss.
The dreadlocks wig, dark sunglasses, and long sleeves to cover the tattoos had effectively disguised him and allowed him to slip past those looking for a bald man covered in tattoos.
“Richie, think about this,” Steven said.
“I already thought about it.”
“What’s going on inside you right now? I want to help.”
“Help?” He laughed—and actually seemed amused. “Dude, the only thing you want to do is end this.”
“Well, sure, that would be nice.”
Richie grinned. “But you ain’t getting what you want. Right now, it’s all about me.”
“It’s not too late. You haven’t hurt anyone.” He wouldn’t mention the convenience store robbery again. No sense in reminding him. “All right, it’s all about you. Tell me what I can do so that no one gets hurt.”
Richie grinned at him again, his eyes hard, cold black pits. “You think I care if anyone gets hurt? You think I even care? Belinda, get out here! Now!” He focused back on Steven. “No woman treats me like Belinda and gets away with it, you understand?”
He understood, all right. Richie had no intention of letting Belinda live to see another day. He had no doubt this was a murder-suicide in the making, so what did he care if he took a few more innocent lives in the process? “Richie, I’m sorry, but she’s not coming out here. She has a bodyguard right next to her and you know there’s no way she’s going to be allowed to come out that door.”
Security burst onto the scene and Richie didn’t even spare them a look. “Belinda!” The woman struggled against him. “Be still!” He popped the gun against her head hard enough to make her cry out but not go unconscious.
Officers converged and started clearing as many people as they could from the area. “I’m not going. I got patients to take care of,” Steven heard one nurse say. “He’s not interested in me. He wants someone named Belinda.” Her voice faded as she was escorted from the area along with everyone else.
Richie continued to holler her name and cast threats against her children if she didn’t “get your sorry self out here.”
Steven prayed Haley would be able to keep the woman inside until Richie could either be talked down or contained. Or killed. He kept an eye on Richie’s trigger finger. It hovered too close for comfort. One wrong move, too much pressure, a slip of his finger, and the woman would die. He met her terrified gaze. “What’s your name?”
“L-Lisa.”
“Richie, that’s Lisa you’ve got there.”
“You think I care about her name?”
He didn’t. That was the problem. He had one goal. To kill Belinda and whoever got in his way of doing so.
“All right, Lisa,” Steven said, “just stay calm, okay?”
“Shut up, cop,” Richie said. “I’m giving the orders around here.”
“Of course, Richie. But Lisa didn’t do anything to you. She never knew you existed until this moment.” He looked at her. “Do you have children?”
“Y-yes. Two. A boy and a girl,” she whispered.
“Richie, you hear that? Lisa’s a mother.” He used her name as much as he could, hoping she would become a real person to Richie, not just a means to an end.
“Of course I heard that, cop. I’m standing right here. Now shut up. Belinda!”
He pressed the gun harder against his hostage’s head, and she winced, her frantic gaze locked on Steven’s.
Richie took a step away, then another, keeping his back against the wall. He stopped. “I don’t care who I hurt right now. Enough talking. You’re starting to make me mad. Get Belinda out here. Belinda!”
Steven spared a quick glance around the now deserted area. Cops were hidden, the hostage negotiator on the way, the sniper probably searching for the best shot. He glanced down the hallway. Yeah, a sniper would have a chance with the window at the end. It would have to be some kind of amazing shot, but it was doable. And that’s where the shot would have to come from.
Steven drew in a steadying breath. He had to keep him talking until they managed to get a negotiator on the scene. “Richie, think about this.”
�
��I told you, I done thought about it. Now move! Belinda!”
“You have kids?” Christina asked, her voice soft, almost soothing.
Richie blinked. “What? No, I don’t have kids.” He smirked. “I was going to adopt Micah and Zeke, wasn’t I, Belinda? Was going to treat them like my own. I even called them my sons. But not anymore!” He directed his shouts to the room that held Belinda. Then turned his sneer back on Christina. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Do you believe in God? Or a higher power?”
Richie froze. Steven let her take the lead. As long as Richie was talking, he wasn’t hurting anyone. Although his hostage might have a nasty bruise where the barrel was gouging into her head, he figured she’d be all right with that. A bruise was better than a bullet.
“Why you want to know that?” The sweat on his forehead ran down his temples and dripped from the side of his jaw. “You think you going to send me on a guilt trip?”
“No, just curious. I do. Believe, that is. I mean, I didn’t used to, but once I started seeing a lot of people die, it sort of made me rethink things. Rethink God.”
Richie eyed her like she was crazy, but Steven could tell she’d captured his interest. “Who’d you see die?”
“My targets.”
Richie huffed, still ignoring the police presence, still with his back against the wall, and still holding the weapon like he meant business. “What targets?”
“I was a sniper for a special ops group. You wouldn’t have heard of it.”
“A sniper?” He laughed. “Ain’t no women snipers out there.”
“Of course there are. Google it. But it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I have no doubt that a sniper has a bead on you even as we speak. This is your last chance to give it up before you die.”
Steven winced. He wouldn’t have said that. It was antagonizing, pushing the man. Had she pushed too far?
Richie’s eyes darted to her, then back to the door. “I’m in a hallway with a hostage. No one’s going to shoot me. Now stop talking. Belinda! I’m going to start killing people if you don’t get yourself out here now!”
“Richie! Stop! Just stop.” Belinda’s voice came from behind Steven. He darted a quick glance at her and saw Haley picking herself up off the floor, a dark look on her face and a hand pressed to her still-healing side. Belinda pushed past Steven and he caught her. She jerked away from him and Steven caught her again in a tighter grip.
“I can’t let you go to him,” he said.
“You can’t stop me.”
Richie’s lips curved in a grimace of evil that made Steven want to pray.
“Belinda, get back in the room and shut the door,” Haley said.
“No,” she whispered, “I can’t. I can’t let him hurt someone else just because I’ve been stupid. I’ve made a lot of bad choices in my life and all I do is hurt people.”
“Belinda,” Steven said, “now isn’t the time. Let us handle Richie.”
“You heard him, he’s going to kill her. He’s going to kill my boys.”
“He’s going to kill you both if you don’t get back.”
“Get over here, Belinda,” Richie said. “You get over here and I won’t shoot this nice lady.” He took the gun from her temple and pointed it at Steven. “Let go of her or die, cop.”
“I’m sorry,” Belinda whispered with an agonized look between Haley, Steven, and the madman with a gun. “Take care of my boys for me.” She tried to pull away from Steven once again, taking another step toward Richie when the window at the end of the hall exploded and Richie’s face disappeared in a mist of red.
[19]
Belinda screamed and dropped to the floor. Haley darted to her side and fell to her knees. “She’s been shot!” Richie’s gun had discharged as he’d gone down and the bullet had struck Belinda in the chest.
Officers descended, medical personnel rushed forward. Haley pressed against Belinda’s bleeding chest. The woman who’d been Richie’s hostage sat on the floor, covered in blood and brain matter, weeping. Haley would have loved to comfort her, but right now, she was doing her best to make sure Belinda didn’t bleed out. “I need a doctor here, now!”
A woman in her midthirties dropped beside Haley. “I’m Katherine Green. I’m a surgeon. Keep the pressure there.” She looked back over her shoulder. “I need a gurney!” Two orderlies raced down the hall. She glanced at the still-crying woman. “Is she hurt?”
“No,” Haley said, “just traumatized.”
And then Christina appeared from nowhere to grab Lisa’s upper arms and gently propel her to her feet. “Come on, we’ll get you cleaned up.”
Steven stood near Micah’s room, his phone pressed to his ear. His eyes snagged Haley’s for a brief moment and a silent message of support passed from him to her. She nodded.
Dr. Green’s gaze dropped to Richie’s faceless body. She grimaced and turned back to Belinda. “Hang on, honey, we’re going to get you some help.”
Belinda’s eyes flickered, then settled on Haley. “Take care of my boys for me.”
“I will until you’re back on your feet.”
Belinda reached for her hand and Haley let her grab it. “If I don’t make it, you take care of them.”
“Not making it’s not an option.”
Her eyes fluttered, her lips moved.
Haley leaned closer. “What?”
Belinda whispered again and Haley did her best to hear her. She finally squeezed the woman’s hand as they lifted her onto the gurney. “Fight, Belinda, fight for your boys, you hear me?” Blood bubbled from her mouth and Dr. Green pushed Haley aside.
And then they were rushing Belinda down the hall toward the elevator that would take her to surgery. Haley looked down at her bloody hands, dropped her chin to her chest, and uttered a prayer for Belinda.
And her grandfather.
She made her way to the sink, slathered her hands in the sanitizing soap, and scrubbed. And scrubbed.
Gentle hands settled on her shoulders, then one reached around her to pull paper towels from the holder. She took them from Steven and dried her hands.
“I told Christina I had you covered,” he said. “She’s staying with Micah.”
“There’s really no need to keep Micah’s family covered now, is there?”
“You never know.”
“Richie’s friends?”
“Maybe. Probably not, but I think we should keep an eye out for a few days.”
“Yeah. You’re right.”
“As for you . . . the threat of Richie is gone, but I’m not so sure you’re in the clear too.”
“I know.”
“Richie had an agenda. He wasn’t about to give up Belinda, and I believe he would have killed you to get you out of his way, but—”
“But it’s possible he wasn’t the only one interested in seeing me dead.”
“Yeah.”
“Right.” She drew in a deep breath and then let it out slowly as she nodded.
“About your grandfather . . .”
She stilled. “I don’t know why they brought him in.”
“Maddy said he had come down to tell her he had a migraine and asked for some more medication. She went to get it, and when she came back, he was on the floor, having convulsions. She hollered for McCort and called 911. When they got him here, they did a brain scan and found a small tumor on his brain. Apparently he hasn’t woken up yet.”
“Oh no,” she whispered. She pressed her palms to her eyes. “I haven’t even had a chance to get to know him. I really don’t want to lose him.”
“Come on, I’ll take you to him.”
She shook her head. “No, if he’s unconscious, I need to do what I can do. I just need someone to let me know when he wakes up. Until then, I want to go see Zeke and tell him about his mother.”
“At the teen center?”
“Yes.”
“All right. I’ll take you there, then bring you back.”
&nbs
p; She looked him in the eye. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you seem to care so much?”
He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “You make it easy to care.” He shrugged. “I just do.”
She held his gaze a moment longer. “Thanks.” She stayed put for another few seconds, then nodded. “All right, then. Let’s check on Duncan, then we can go.”
Ten minutes later, relieved that Duncan was improving with each passing hour, she pulled the keys to her Hummer out of her front pocket and tossed them to him. “You can drive. I’ve got to think about how I’m going to tell Zeke I let his mother get shot.”
After checking the vehicle for any explosive devices, Steven crawled behind the wheel and let the engine purr to life. He had to admit, at any other time, driving the big tanklike vehicle would have thrilled him, but he was worried about Zeke’s reaction to the impending news. He knew Haley blamed herself for having to deliver it. “How did she get past you?”
“She took me by surprise. I had my back to her with my attention on what was going on outside the room and watching the door in case Richie got past you guys. She simply came up behind me and gave me a hard shove. I bounced off the wall and slipped to the floor. And out the door she went.” She shook her head. “I haven’t made a dumb rookie mistake like that in . . . forever.”
“You had no reason to believe she would try to leave, did you?”
“I did at first. She was worried about Zeke, but I thought I had her convinced he was all right and that Laila would make sure nothing happened to him.”
“She didn’t come out because she was worried about Zeke. She was worried about Richie’s hostage.”
“And you.”
“It’s not your fault.”
She shot him a tight smile, then glanced back out the window.
“My brother died when he was twelve,” Steven said. “I was eighteen.”
Her head whipped around. “What?”
“For a long time I blamed myself, but time has allowed me to come to the conclusion that there wasn’t anything I could have done to prevent it. It doesn’t lessen the hurt, of course, and the guilt still manages to creep up on me. But in my head, if not my heart, I know it wasn’t my fault.”
Chasing Secrets Page 17
