by Ronnie Allen
We’ll see about that.
“And as a consultant you charge--”
“Hourly, five hundred bucks per.”
“Five hundred bucks per hour?”
“I’m worth every penny.”
“Y’all too gussied up an’ high cotton with a big yapper, an’ y’all make her mad as a hornet and ah reckon she’ll high tail it outta dere in munts.”
John did a double take. “What did you just say?”
“You even need a translator, son. I said you’re cocky and arrogant and rich. Vicki will not be able to keep up with your lifestyle. She’ll get hurt in the end and run back home.”
“Well, don’t underestimate her. We’ll make each other very happy. And I can support her very well.”
“There’s more to marriage then the bedroom. You’re arrogant, cocky, think you’re God’s gift to the world, so forget about it.”
“No. I’m not. You called me that already. You’ll come around. You’re like my mother.”
“Oh, yeah? How?”
“You need to accept the fact that you’re not the only man in Vicki’s life now.”
CHAPTER 28
Present Day:
John, forced by law, had to do what he realized was the worst thing he could do. He was a stickler for the law. Barbara had to be moved to a less restrictive environment even though he suspected her of murder. Carlson’s team had been less than cooperative, so John carried Barbara’s belongings in her paisley case into her room to make the transfer. He had the items he took from her apartment for her daily wear and the suit she was wearing at admittance. Carlson even gave John back her boots and knitting bag.
She was shocked when she saw him carrying in her things. “You’re letting me go?”
“I’m good, but not that good. You’re being moved to a private room on the twelfth floor.”
“Twelfth floor? Afraid I’ll jump?”
“Nope. Got that covered. I hate to tell you this, but it’s also volunteer admissions floor. People come and go but you can’t.”
“What?”
“Let me finish.”
“Okay. Do finish.”
“There’s a rec room and you’re free to lounge there. Also a dining room with set meal times. I took the liberty of bringing you casual workout clothes and what I think you’d need from your apartment.”
She examined the bag. Everything she would need was in there, from toothpaste to shampoo and conditioners and body treatments, as well as the appropriate undergarments. She lifted a pair of panties, full briefs.
“Didn’t bring the bikini ones. Didn’t think you’d want a pantie line to show. I know my wife wouldn’t.”
“You went into my drawers and closets? Without a warrant?”
“That I did. So you’d rather wear a hospital gown with no undergarments in public when everyone else is in street clothes?”
She crossed her arms across her chest spewing defiance.
“A ‘thank you’ would be nice, but those two words don’t seem to enter your vocabulary.”
“No, they don’t.”
No wonder she’s still single.
And here’s your knitting bag.”
She smiled.
“But you can only knit in your room. You cannot take the needles into an area with the general population. Agreed? I need your word on this. Staff will be watching you and they’ll follow my orders. Oh, and, I took the liberty of removing the metal needles. I replaced them with plastic children’s ones. And I got you a pair of children’s scissors, too.”
“How would you even--”
“I stopped off at a yarn store. I don’t know about this stuff. So, agreed?”
“Definitely, agreed. You have my word on this.”
“What is this anyway?”
“A sweater, when I finish it.”
“For me?”
“A Barbara Montgomery original? No way. You haven’t done anything to earn it yet.”
“And what do I need to do for that? No sexual innuendos intended.”
“No sexual innuendos taken. Let me go on my own recognizance. I’ll stay in New York City and be available to meet with you and Carlson.”
“No. Can’t do that.”
She rummaged through her tote. “Look, you see how the supplements you’re giving me are working. And it’s only been a couple of days. I’m taking everything the nurses give me and they have helped. You see? I’m not getting so angry anymore and not attacking you. You see that I’m calmer. I even slept better last night, and only had that nightmare when I was napping when you came in. Dr. Trenton, you can trust me now.”
“What you’re showing me is that your aggression is under your own control unless you have an emotional trigger. The supplementation takes much longer to kick in and work on the brain. Up to ninety days in some cases, sometimes more. Some do help you sleep better though. You’re a long way from fully functioning, in my opinion.”
“Thanks for the confidence. You’ll see. I’ll be much better when I have some freedoms. I promise. I won’t get crazy or have any outbursts. But when will I be free to leave?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. Not until we catch this Clancy character, at the very least. Ready? Go into the bathroom and change, and I’ll take you upstairs.”
He noticed an on-guard look in her eyes and realized he and Tony needed to act fast. Her hands raced through her bag.
“By the way, I have your cell phone if that’s what you’re looking for. And your coat.”
She threw her hands up in the air. “Yes. Of course, you do.”
***
John walked down the twelfth floor corridor to the nurse’s station with Barbara. The nurse, Callie, welcomed them.
“Callie, this is Barbara Montgomery, your new admit. I’ll get her settled, and then I’ll come back and give you the charts.”
“Yes, Dr. Trenton.”
John escorted Barbara to the room down at the far end of the corridor as she scanned the names on the wall plates outside the doors. “Looking for someone?”
“Uh, no. I’m just very nervous right now.”
“Uh-huh.” Who does she know here from when was she a patient?
Max sent him an affirmative jolt. Yes! “Get settled. Lunch is at noon, so you have a half hour. The dining room is straight down the corridor.”
“Okay. When will you be back?”
“I’ll surprise you.” He closed the door and left with his mind reeling.
What is she up to? Paul, if something happens, your head will roll. I’m not taking heat on this one.
An armed guard approached. “Right here, Doc.”
John craned his neck to address him. “Thanks, Jake. Got the directives?”
“Yes, sir. This chick and I will be attached at the hip.”
“That’s the idea.” John smiled as he walked away.
He removed his smartphone from his pocket and sent a text. Vicki, I miss you, babe. Come on. You haven’t text me back or returned my calls in two weeks. I need to know you’re okay, babe. I didn’t mean what I said. I want children as much as you do. You have to believe me, babe.
***
Jake stood at-ease in front of Barbara’s door, facing it.
She opened the door. “Oops!”
Instantly her memory brought up a vision of when she was ten in 1985, held tightly by a guard as tall and wide as he was mean, as a doctor gave her a sedative with a needle. She remembered herself biting and kicking him the entire time. The guard had wrestled her with his big arms wrapped around her so tightly he almost suffocated her. He laughed continuously at her before she succumbed to the drug.
She remained dazed for a few minutes and unresponsive.
“Hi, doll.” Silence. “Doc, you okay?” He reached out and gently touched her arm to awaken her from the daydream.
She trembled, but became alert. “Ooh, yeah, yeah. And you are?”
“Your guardian, Jake.”
“Excuse me?” she ask
ed as she peered up at him.
“Your escort.”
“What? Dr. Trenton said I’m free to walk around the building.”
“Building? I doubt that. The floor, yes. And I go with you.”
“I knew I couldn’t trust that bastard. It was too good to be true. It wouldn’t pay for me to fight you, huh?”
“How many Black Belts do you have?”
“Ah. Got it. By the way, there are no windows in the room.”
“Plan to jump?” He laughed. “This is an interior room. The rooms on the outer side have the windows. Guess the doc wants you real well protected. Lunch in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll see you in twenty, Jake.” She slammed the door.
***
In her room, Barbara searched all around for the recording light on the wall. Even though she didn’t see one, she carried her knitting bag into the bathroom. She put the needles, twenty skeins of yarn in various shades of greens and browns, and the instruction book on top of the closed toilet seat. She fiddled around in the bottom of the bag until she found it. Even the zipper was paisley. She unzipped the hidden compartment and retrieved a disposable phone.
Yes, you jack-ass. You have one of my phones. I’m always prepared. Thank God for minimum security. Obviously, he doesn’t have anything concrete or he wouldn’t have brought me here. And, obviously, Carlson was too damn lazy to check. But I knew that already. That’s good. I’ll take advantage of that. God. I must have had such good karma from a previous life that I’m getting away with such shit in this one. Damn. Life is good.
Barbara pressed a number on her phone.
“Yeah?”
“You took a big chance going to my school. My whole setup could have been blown.”
“Why are you whispering?”
She shot a quick glance toward the door. “I have to be quiet.”
“I thought you skipped town.”
“I was tied up for a few days. Listen, I didn’t put in three years at that lousy Department of Ed job to not get what I want.”
“Why sacrifice that much to get to Reynolds?”
“I’ll tell you about it sometime. Very long story. And don’t make any more stupid moves. The police are looking for you. Don’t go near my Brooklyn or Manhattan apartments. Did you deliver a present to Reynolds?”
“Yeah. It went as expected.”
“When’s the next phase?”
“I’ll do the filming this afternoon when they leave early for the long weekend. Then I’ll give him the surprise of his life tonight.”
“Good. All right. I can’t afford to risk staying here. That shrink is way too smart.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’ll find a way out. I know this place like it’s my own home. Proceed as planned. First Reynolds and then--” she added with a wolfish grin, “--that shrink and anyone close to him will have their day in hell.”
CHAPTER 29
Three Years Earlier:
John pulled over to the side of the road and saw the SWAT Hummer. The entire area was illuminated by huge strobes, powered by a generator. It was irregular terrain, more loose dirt and mud holes than grass, with several dilapidated trailers, stationed about ten feet apart and raised on huge tires with unstable wooden planks leading to the front doors.
There was a lot of garbage strewn about, and unsanitary living conditions promoted a feeding frenzy to the insects flying around and on the ground. John jumped out of the car and sprinted to Mark and his team, who were stationed about five hundred feet from the trailer door. The stench of stale food along with human and animal wastes overwhelmed him. His dinner came up into his throat during his approach. He swallowed the acid as he stumbled in dog poop, a big dog’s poop. It was warm, squishy, and odoriferous. This was one unhealthy dog. Wearing sandals had not been the smartest move. John would have to toss them before he went home. He was in work mode, even though on vacation, so he struggled to ignore the mess.
The situations at home had been indoors, in air-conditioned buildings with electricity. He’d never been in the woods before now. Roughing it, camping, had never been his thing. He’d never been called to a scene on vacation. But then again, he hadn’t taken many vacations. He never had to work with a team he didn’t know or who didn’t know of him. His reputation made sure of that. He’d never had to succeed to impress someone other than himself. This situation agitated him.
The men--wearing vests, boots, gloves, and Kevlar-3 helmets, with their side arms, the Glock 23, .40-caliber drawn--took cover behind three police cars and the SWAT Hummer. Their gear covered every inch of them. When John approached in sandals, shorts, and a tank top, without a signal from Mark, a kid grabbed his arm.
“Loose the sandals, sir.”
John obliged willingly. The kid blasted water from the hose, powered by their own on-scene generator, onto John’s feet, then poured a generous amount of antibacterial detergent on them, and handed him a rag on a pole. “In these woods we have to come prepared. And you sure as hell ain’t dressed for it, sir.”
“This was unexpected.” John appreciatively washed his feet off. “Thank you.”
“No problem, sir. Here put these on. We prepare for the unexpected. Even havin’ to take care of big city folk like you.”
He wasn’t kidding. John knew it. The kid handed John socks and a pair of size thirteen boots, sweat pants, and a sweat shirt. “Ya gotta keep covered. If the red ants don’t bite ya ta death, the ’squitos will.” He also handed him a can of bug spray. “You’ll use it if ya smart, sir.”
This kid sure has an attitude. Guess that happens when you’re demoted to clothing duty. Wonder what he did to earn this privilege.
“Got it. Thanks.” After he dressed, John dashed over to the communication center Mark and his five-man team had set up.
“Better.”
John started to apologize for the delay but Mark cut him off.
“No problem. We take care of our own, first. If we’re not optimum, we can’t do our best.”
“This is optimum, huh?”
“Yeah, fifty pounds of gear on in ninety-three degree heat. That’s as optimum as it gets, Doc.”
John had just gotten a dose of humility. “When was the last time you made contact?”
“About forty minutes ago after I spoke to you. He refused to answer the phone again until you got here. We already announced to the residents to remain in their trailers until they’re notified. So far, so good.”
“Was I the only demand?”
“Yes. We’ve been trying to get him to come out for two hours. He won’t release any of the hostages, but he swears they’re unharmed. And as far as we can see, they are. An hour and a half ago he demanded to see you.”
“It looked like you left the pool this afternoon for an opp.”
“Yeah. Great. Right? Two in one day. Earned blood money today.”
“It looks so calm and peaceful down here.”
“Definitely for the retirees, but among the locals? Not so much. Mainly the young ones. Drugs.”
Enough with the chit chat. “Okay. Call him on the phone. Let’s do this.”
“Hold on, sir,” said another man. “This is our negotiation. I’ve been talking to him the entire time. Lieutenant Randy Leigh, chief negotiator.”
John could tell that without the intro. Leigh sported the black, squared-off vest, with negotiator in white block letters on the front and back. The presence of this thirty-year-old guy that permeated through the vest earned him the title.
John was impressed. He hesitated. He knew the lieutenant was right. But he wasn’t familiar with this guy, nor any of them. The only one he trusted was himself, and his concern for Ricky forced him to override the protocol. “I know the little kid in there and he knows me. We can use that.”
“Doesn’t matter, sir. You’re the reward. He doesn’t get to you until he releases the hostages unharmed.”
John was aware of the procedure. “What do you know?”
“I know we’re wasting time now, if I have to share the details, sir.”
John nodded. “All right. Make the call and tell him I’m here.”
Randy picked up the receiver on the box phone they had placed at the front door. John realized there was no landline in the trailer so this was their only mode of communication, and, the good thing was, this kind of box recorded every bit of conversation. John nodded. Good move. While they were at it, they had drawn a line up to the windowsill to record what was happening inside, in real time, now seen on the computer screen next to the phone. John observed Ricky, crying, cuddled in his grandma’s arms, sitting at a square wooden table in the kitchen area. There were two wooden chairs around it. The computer image was so clear John recognized cigarette burns in the wood on the tabletop. Ricky’s grandpa was lying down, apparently asleep, on a torn up floral print couch, while Denise, smoked a cigarette, slumped down on the floor, leaning against a faux-wood paneled wall opposite the door. From what John could see, there was no other furniture in the room. Not even a toy or book in sight. Ricky’s dad was out of view.
Randy picked up the phone.
“Yeah.”
“Rick, it’s Lieutenant Leigh. Dr. Trenton is here.”
“Good, I wanna blow his dang head off.”
“That was fast and to the point,” John whispered to the lieutenant. “Okay, this may be over with soon.”
“Yeah? How do you figure that, Doc?” the lieutenant whispered back, putting the phone on mute.
“Give me a while.”
“No, sir.” The lieutenant moved the phone out of John’s reach and unmuted it. “Rick, Lieutenant Leigh again. Rick, listen to me. We don’t want anyone hurt, inside or out. We can work this out.”
“Ah don’t give a dayum. Ah hate y’all PO-leece! Ah ain’t listen’ to y’all PO-leece no more. An’ ah hate dis ol’ lady here. She hates my guts, too. Ah just fixin’ to blow ’er dang head off.”
