by Chris Taylor
The phone went dead in her hand. The battery had died.
Stewart came striding toward her. She almost choked on her fright, but determinably stood her ground. She didn’t want him knowing how much he terrified her. While he thought they were merely having a friendly meeting in the park, she might have a chance of getting Jack out of there.
“Who the fuck were you talking to?”
She swallowed her trepidation and faced him calmly. “N-no one. I was just checking my messages.”
“Bullshit. Give it to me.”
“W-what?” She bit her lip against the tremor in her voice.
“Give me the fucking phone!” His face was so close she could see the whites of his eyes. “You think I’m going to fall for that? You could have been calling that copper boyfriend of yours, for all I know.”
She pulled the phone out of her bag and handed it to him, knowing it would be useless without the battery. “Here.” Hoping to distract him, she smiled and placed her hand on his arm. “What’s all this about, Stewart? You were never this uptight when we were young. You’re getting all worked up over nothing.”
The madness was back in his eyes and she didn’t have a clue whether anything she said was even getting through. He frowned down at her hand where it lay on his arm as though he was trying to work out how it got there.
“Get your fucking hand off me, bitch. Nothing you say or do is going to change my mind. Luke’s dead. Tiff’s dead. Jack’s all I have left.”
Throwing her arm off, Stewart strode toward the climbing wall. Jack lay sprawled across it, almost at the top of the twenty-foot wall. Even from a distance, Cally saw the terror in his eyes. She tried to keep the panic from her voice.
“Jack! Don’t move! Stay there! Stay right where you are!” Her ears strained for the sound of sirens above the pounding of her heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Andy washed his hands at the cracked and stained ceramic sink in the bathroom and made his way back out to the squad room. It was a little after four. Two more hours and his shift would be over. He could make his way home to Cally and Jack: his family.
He smiled in anticipation and flung himself into his chair. Swinging his legs up onto his desk, he crossed his ankles and leaned against the faux leather. The noise of the telephones and the hum of conversations faded around him.
It was amazing how things were turning out. Less than a month ago, he’d been riding in the back of a taxi wondering if he’d ever find the love of his life. Now, he had a beautiful woman who loved him as much as he loved her and a boy he couldn’t wait to call son.
He had to tell Will. Between meeting Cally and re-connecting with his mother, he hadn’t spoken to his best friend for more than a fortnight. Dropping his boots to the floor, he straightened and opened the top drawer of his desk. He pulled out his cell and frowned in disappointment when he noticed a missed call from Cally.
She must have called while he’d been in the bathroom. The screen indicated a new message and his heart lightened at the thought of hearing her voice.
“Tom! Andy! Craig! Get in here!”
Andy’s gut clenched at the urgency in his boss’ voice. With an inward sigh of regret, he tossed the phone back into the drawer and followed Tom and Craig at a jog toward Redding’s office. His boss paced the cluttered space and got straight to the point, his face grave.
“I just took a call from the boys at Chatswood. They have a situation at Fullers Park. Some guy’s taken a woman hostage. They don’t think he’s armed, but details are pretty sketchy. There’s a kid involved somewhere, too. I want all of you to get over there right away. See what you can do. There are some uniforms from Chatswood on their way, but they’ve asked for our help.”
The usual mix of fear and adrenaline rushed through Andy’s veins. It was the same whenever a call like this came in. His mind was already canvassing strategies. “We’re onto it, sir. You ready, fellas?”
Tom and Craig nodded, their faces grim. Without another word, they strode out of the office and into the locker room where they tugged on overalls and began the mental preparation that being involved in a police negotiation always demanded.
* * *
Cally knew the exact moment the sound of the police sirens registered with Stewart. He came to an abrupt halt and his whole body stiffened. He spun on his heel and strode toward her, anger in every step.
“The fucking coppers. I knew it! You fucking bitch! You couldn’t leave things well enough alone, could you?” His long strides closed the distance between them, his eyes now as icy as his voice.
For some reason, his coldness terrified her more than his ranting and she shivered uncontrollably. He was mere inches away, his face a picture of dark and menacing fury.
His arm snaked out and grabbed her around the neck, hauling her back against his chest. She cried out in terror. He stumbled backwards, dragging her with him toward the rock wall, where Jack still hung, frozen.
Stewart’s hold around her neck tightened and she winced. Her shoe caught on the uneven ground, twisting her ankle and she cried out. Reaching up, she struggled to loosen his hold.
“Mom! Mom! Mom!”
She heard Jack’s terrified shouts and prayed desperately that he’d stay where he was. Stewart looked up and she flailed around for a way to distract him. She drew in a breath and pulled hard against him. “Stewart! Stop! You’re choking me! Please, let me go.”
He sneered down at her. “Not likely, bitch!” He forced her head around and thrust his face into hers. “We could have done this so much easier. You could have handed Jack over without any fuss. After all the shit I’ve been through lately. Didn’t your father tell you about Tiffany and Luke? She hit a fucking tree! It was three o’clock in the afternoon and she was drunk. Who gets drunk by three o’clock and then does the school pick-up?”
His face was almost purple with rage. Cally trembled violently against him, never more terrified in her life.
“My little boy, my little Lukie. Pulverized! Broken in so many places, they couldn’t work out what went where. The only thing I recognized was his face. And Tiffany—stone cold dead, but with hardly a mark on her. How’s that for fair?”
Spittle from out of his mouth landed on Cally’s face. She instinctively pulled back. Stewart tightened his hold and hauled her back hard against him. Her head collided with the solidness of his jaw and she cried out from the impact.
Stewart’s lip curled up in a snarl. “Cry your hardest, bitch. I couldn’t give a fuck. It’s your fault it turned out like this. All I wanted was to find my son and take him home with me. The son you stole off me. But, no. You couldn’t let me do that, could you, bitch? You’ve had him all to yourself for more than a decade and you still weren’t prepared to hand him over. You had to spoil everything. You had to go and call the fucking coppers.”
“Police! Let her go!”
* * *
Immediately upon Andy’s arrival, he recognized Cally’s car and he went cold. Fuck. He stared at the scene unraveling before him. His heart pounded so hard he could barely hear Tom’s shouted command. Stewart Brady had his arm tight around Cally’s neck. Her head was twisted halfway over her shoulder. Even from a distance, Andy could see the pain on her face and the tension in her body. All of a sudden, his lottery win, his fancy condo and all the other expensive things he’d surrounded himself with meant nothing: All he wanted was her safe and back in his arms.
He looked around a little frantically for Jack and was filled with relief when he spied the boy clinging to the top of the climbing wall. Terror had him frozen in place. Andy urged him silently to hold on. Right at that moment, it was the safest place in the park.
A handful of uniformed officers surrounded the immediate area. Another half dozen cordoned off the park with police tape and were busy keeping curious onlookers at bay. Stewart’s gaze swung from one side to another, taking in the scene.
“Tom!” Andy’s voice was low and urgent. Tom glanced at him
, a questioning look in his eyes.
“It’s Cally. The prick’s got Cally.”
Surprise and recognition flared in Tom’s eyes. His expression turned grim. “I’ll take the lead.” He murmured the words out of the side of his mouth, his gaze remaining fixed on the couple who continued to struggle in front of him.
Andy nodded. In truth, he was relieved to hand over the responsibility. This was Cally, the love of his life. He could barely think straight at the thought of what might happen to her. He’d never forgive himself if he screwed this up. Besides, Tom had a wealth of experience behind him. There was no one better for the job. Tom was a veteran. He wouldn’t let Cally die.
* * *
At the shouted command, Cally almost collapsed in relief. The police were here. Surely, Stewart would let her go now?
“Come any closer and I’ll blow her head off,” Stewart yelled back.
Cally stifled a sob. Her neck was twisted at such an angle that all she could see was the sky. She strained as hard as she could to catch a glimpse of Jack. The last time she’d seen him, he was clinging to the wall, terrified.
Stewart dragged her further backwards. Her bare heels skipped over grass and loose stones. She yelped when something sharp dug into her foot. She guessed they were nearly at the climbing wall. Taking a gamble, she drew in as much oxygen as the tight grip on her neck allowed and then she screamed.
“Jack! Stay where you are! Don’t move!”
Stewart’s hold around her throat threatened to suffocate her. She choked and gasped for breath. Clawing at his hands, her lungs screamed for oxygen. An excruciating white-hot pain stabbed through her chest and she groaned in agony.
Black spots danced before her eyes. Dizziness overwhelmed her. She swallowed convulsively against the surge of nausea that swirled in her belly. Gouging at his hands with her fingernails, she tried desperately to release the pressure from around her neck.
“Hey, Stewart? What are you doing, mate?”
It was the same voice again—the one that had called out the first time. It was a little closer and came from the direction of the car park. Stewart twisted slightly around and his grip on her neck eased slightly. She winced when he shouted near her ear.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m Tom. Tom Munro.”
Cally was filled with relief. It was Tom, Andy’s partner and a fellow negotiator. Tom would save them.
“Who the fuck is Tom Munro and what the fuck do you want?” Stewart’s arm tightened across Cally’s neck again.
“I only want to talk to you, Stewart. You seem to be in a bit of a spot.”
Stewart tensed against her. “I’m not in any fucking spot, Tom. If you and your mates take yourselves away quietly, I’ll go and collect my son and be off. It’s as simple as that.”
“What about the lady you have hold of, Stewart?” Tom replied calmly. “How are you going to collect your boy while you have her in your arms?”
“Just leave me the fuck alone!” Fury emanated from Stewart in almost palpable waves. The bag he’d held over his shoulder hit the ground near her feet. A moment later, a cold, solid hardness pressed against Cally’s temple. She gasped. Terrified, she realized he had a gun.
“Please, Stewart. Please don’t.” Tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks. Her shaking intensified and panic threatened to overwhelm her. “Please, Stewart, think of Jack, your son. What will he do without me? What will he think of you if you’re the reason I’m not here?”
“He doesn’t care about me! He doesn’t even know me! You turned him against me! I’ve lost him, just like I lost Luke!”
“No!” Her voice was hoarse. His vice-like grip across her neck didn’t budge. She could barely get the words out. “It’s not like that, Stewart. You need to give him time, give us both time.”
“You don’t care about me!” he screamed, spittle once again flying across her face. “You never did! If you’d really cared, you would never have gotten yourself pregnant and screwed up everything we had together.”
She gasped. Anger coursed through her. She struggled against him, throwing caution to the wind. “Let go of me!”
“Cally!”
At the sound of Andy’s voice, she went limp. He was here. He’d come. She twisted against Stewart, straining to see the man she loved. “Andy? Andy?”
“I’m here, Cally. Stay calm, sweetheart. I’m here.”
Stewart tensed behind her. “Andy? That’s his name? The man you replaced me with? The man I’ve been watching you fuck like the little slut you are? You didn’t even bother to draw the blinds.”
Clamping her mouth shut against the shock of Stewart’s revelation, Cally bit down hard on her lip to stifle the sob that threatened to escape. Andy had told her to stay calm. She had to do what Andy said. He’d come to save them. She sucked in tiny breaths when she could and tried to keep her panic at bay.
She thought she was doing a pretty good job of it until Stewart shouted again. “Which one of you is Andy?”
Cally cried out. Terror pulsed through her. Her breath came fast and her heart beat overtime. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop the panic that liquefied her limbs.
“I’m Andy.”
His voice was strong and firm and much too near. Cally moaned in agony. What was he doing? Didn’t he know how close Stewart was to snapping?
Stewart turned slightly in the direction from where Andy’s voice had come. “Yeah, I see the resemblance now. I barely recognized you with your pants on.”
“Why don’t you put that gun down so we can talk?” Andy’s tone was composed and unhurried. He sounded even nearer. Stewart’s arm tightened painfully around her neck.
“Stop right there!” he yelled. “Don’t come any closer or I’ll put a bullet through her brain.”
Cally panted and did her best to focus on her breathing. She had to stay calm. Andy wanted her to stay calm. He told her to stay calm.
Stewart’s breaths were ragged. The erratic pounding of his heart thudded beneath her ear. He was on the brink of losing control. Silent, frantic, desperate prayers fell from her motionless lips. Despite her best efforts, her terror was beginning to overwhelm her. Her teeth chattered. Her neck burned under the cold, menacing, metallic presence pressed hard against the side of her head. She had no doubt his gun was loaded.
* * *
Andy watched Cally and saw she was close to her breaking point. Her face had lost all color. She was limp against the man who still held her captive. Tom shot him a questioning look, but he resolutely ignored it. He’d complicated matters by getting involved, but there was no choice now but to see it through to the end.
He thrust aside the anger that burned like ice in his belly and tried again. “Put the gun down, Stewart. You’re not going to achieve anything by holding a gun to the lady’s head. Just lay it on the ground and we can talk properly.”
“Do you think I’m fucking stupid? The minute I drop this gun, you’re going to blow my fucking head off. I bet you have some of those sniper blokes with their guns trained on me right now.”
“No guns, mate,” Andy replied. “Just you and me. I promise.” He eased closer, his gaze never wavering from the two people in front of him.
The unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked sent terror rushing through him. The deadly metallic click echoed in his ears. Memories of the standoff with his father flashed before him. He blinked and pushed them away.
Cally stirred and tried to pull away from the madman who held her in a viselike grip. Stewart lifted his arm and struck her across the head with the barrel. She screamed and Andy clenched his fists, forcing himself to remain calm and stand his ground. Despite his best efforts, panic edged his consciousness.
“Put it down, Stewart. Don’t do it, mate,” he murmured, hating the fear and urgency that had crept into his voice.
“What do I have to lose? I’ve already buried my family. Lukie, my little Lukie.” Stewart hunched forward and his shoulders began to
shake. His hold on Cally loosened the slightest bit.
Andy saw his chance. “Now, Cally! Now!”
She wrenched back with her elbows, catching Stewart by surprise with a hefty jab to the ribs. His arms fell away and she hit the ground hard. She yelped with pain.
Andy drew his gun, pleased he hadn’t had time to hand it over to one of the other officers. He aimed it with deadly accuracy at Stewart’s head. The gun in Stewart’s hand swung wildly from Andy to Tom and finally settled on Andy. As if in slow motion, he saw Brady depress the trigger. A second later, there was a roar of gunfire from Andy’s sidearm. Stewart crumpled to the ground, only inches away from Cally.
Andy gasped. Relief that it was over surged through him. He raced to close the distance between him and Cally. Moments later, his arms were around her, lifting her, carrying her, kissing her. He stumbled away from the scene of carnage.
“Jack?” she whispered hoarsely. “Where’s Jack?”
Andy looked down at her, still weak with relief. “He’s fine. He’s still on the climbing wall. Tom’s gone to get him.”
Relief and delayed shock sent uncontrollable tremors through her body. She collapsed against him, gasping for breath. He eased her onto a bench near the car park which now overflowed with police cars and other emergency vehicles. She lifted her head off his shoulder and stared into his eyes, hers wide with shock and disbelief.
“Is it really over?” Her voice sounded raw from the recent trauma. Andy saw her swallow against the pain.
“Shh, sweetheart, don’t talk. It’s over. It’s all over. You’re safe. You’re both safe. I promise.”
Her eyes darkened with emotion. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Andy’s chest tightened. “I came so close to losing you.” Pulling her close, he pressed desperate kisses against her hair, her cheeks, her lips. His arms tightened around her as if he’d never let her go.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Cally poured coffee into the cups set out on the table that stood on the balcony of Andy’s beachside condominium. A cool Fall breeze blew off the ocean and lifted tendrils of her hair. She smiled at Jack who stood at the far end of the balcony, thoroughly immersed in watching the ships and other floating objects that were scattered across the blue sea. It had taken awhile for Jack to come out of his shell and after the traumatic events he’d witnessed a little over a month earlier, Cally only marveled at his resilience.
