“There was a burglary. The burglar was an unarmed teenage girl. I think it was Sara.”
“Why would you think it was Sara?” Detective Hamilton asked.
Megan blushed, totally second-guessing herself now. “Could be any girl. Maybe it wasn’t Sara.” Could she feel any more like an idiot?
Neal looked at Hamilton. “We can go check it out, right?”
“Of course.” Hamilton led the way toward the doors. “If it is Sara, the police will bring her in right away.”
“We don’t trust the police much,” Ricky said. “Personality conflicts.”
Hamilton laughed. “I know, Ricky.”
Megan gave Neal the address and he programmed it into his phone while Hamilton pulled out of the bookstore parking space.
“That’s across town,” Hamilton said. “It’ll take us at least twenty minutes to get there.” He pulled out his cell phone.
“I should’ve brought the scanner,” Megan murmured.
“Want to go back for it?” Seth asked.
“I don’t want to waste any time.” Megan watched the city go by as Hamilton drove toward the address. She looked at Ricky, sitting behind Neal’s seat. Something glowed in his hand and then went out. He spun his palm against it and it glowed again. “What’s that, Ricky?”
His head jerked up. “Huh? Nothing.”
“What?” Seth grabbed Ricky’s wrist. Ricky put up a half-hearted fight and released his contraband. “A lighter.” Seth handed it to Megan.
She flipped over the neon-pink lighter, the fluid inside almost up to the top. “Find it in the warehouse?”
“Yeah.” Ricky put a bored expression on his face and held his hand out. “Can I have it back now?”
Seth scowled at him. “What are you, a pyromaniac?”
“No.” Ricky snatched the lighter from Megan. “I just like fire.”
Hamilton began talking into his phone. Megan strained, trying to pay attention to his muted conversation.
“. . . girl breaking and entering? What’s the name of the captain onsite? Sure.” He paused.
Neal spotted the lighter and rolled his eyes. “How do you find these things?”
“They find me.” Ricky glared at his brother. “Leave me alone.”
“Of course. Thank you.” Hamilton snapped his phone shut. “Neal, open the dash. Blue light. Give it to me.”
Neal handed the detective a small roundish blue light.
Dropping open the window, Hamilton stuck the light on top of the car and clicked it on.
Traffic slowly began to part for them, and Hamilton hit the gas.
“How does that stay up there?” Ricky opened the window and half climbed out of the car.
“Get your head in the car, Ricky!” Hamilton shouted. “It’s magnetic. The car has a magnetic mount.”
“What’s going on?” Neal sat on the edge of his seat, lips drawn tight.
The tires squealed as Hamilton pulled a tight right turn. Megan gripped her seatbelt.
“There’s been an incident,” Hamilton said. “The burglar pulled a knife on the family. It’s become a hostage situation. The burglar is considered dangerous.”
“She’s holding them hostage?” Megan gasped. It couldn’t be Sara, then.
“Apparently.” Hamilton glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Everything was fine until the police showed up. Then she went nuts. The man of the house tried to approach her and she cut him.”
Megan put a hand to her mouth.
“But the police have her in visual sight. From their description,” he paused. “It might be Sara.”
“They won’t shoot her, will they?” Ricky gripped the lighter with white knuckles.
Hamilton didn’t answer.
It was easy to find the house. An ambulance joined the police cars in the street just as Hamilton pulled up.
Neal was out of the car before it came to a stop.
“Neal!” Hamilton shouted, but the boy didn’t pay any heed.
Megan pushed her door open and ran out too.
“Stop!” an officer yelled at them, but Neal didn’t, so Megan didn’t either.
The garage was open. That must’ve been how Sara got in. If it was Sara. Neal ran up the steps and shoved the door to the house open. Megan clattered after him, Ricky and Seth on her heels.
“Don’t come in here!” A high-pitched, hysterical girl’s voice echoed down the hallway.
Megan halted, chills running up and down her spine. Neal and Ricky pushed past her. The two of them rushed into the living room. Curiosity got the best of her, and Megan inched to the edge of the hall, peering into the kitchen and dining room.
It was Sara. She crouched on the floor, a sliding glass door behind her. She held a sharp chopping knife above her head, brandishing it at the family around her. The man had a rag to his forearm, soaking up blood from a cut. The woman held two little boys against her. Megan couldn’t imagine they were really afraid of Sara. There had to be other knives. The husband could easily force that one away from her.
“Don’t come near me!” Sara shrieked. Her pupils were dilated, the black taking up almost all of the hazel color. “I’m not going with the police!”
Megan put her hands to her face, tears overflowing. Sara had lost it. Seth touched her shoulder.
The woman pushed the boys behind her and inched her way to the front door. Sara hissed and spun her direction. “DON’T OPEN THAT DOOR!”
The man grabbed Neal before he went to Sara. “Don’t touch her. She’s crazy.”
“She’s my sister,” Neal said, pushing his hands away. “She won’t hurt me.”
“She won’t know you. She went crazy when the police arrived. I’m trying to keep her from hurting herself.”
Neal hesitated. “Ricky. I need your help.”
Sara watched the two of them approach, her eyes wide. “What are you doing?” She pushed herself to her feet, hand trembling. She thrust the knife out in front of her. “No! I won’t let you take me!”
The woman unlocked the front door and shoved her children into the yard.
Sara’s eyes flashed to them. “DON’T LET THEM IN!”
In her moment of distraction, Neal grabbed her wrist. She shrieked and flailed against him, alternating between driving the knife toward herself and thrusting it at Neal.
“Ricky!” Neal cried. “Hold her!”
Ricky came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, holding her still at the elbow joints. “Sara. It’s me. It’s Ricky.”
The man jumped into the frenzy, helping Ricky.
Neal applied pressure to her wrist until she dropped the knife. She cried, sobbed, pitched back and forth, but Neal and Ricky held her tight. The emaciated girl didn’t have the strength to fight back.
Neal saw Seth, hovering next to Megan. “We’ve got her. Get the police. We need help.”
Seth hurried out the front door.
Megan remained where she was. She wanted to go to Sara, to help her, but she felt frightened. How could this wild creature be Sara?
Sara’s sobs weakened into whimpers until she collapsed against Neal’s chest, body shaking.
The man helped Neal cradle her against his body. “She came in through the garage door. We found her raiding our fridge. We were trying to help her. My wife left the room to call the police. But as soon as they showed up—she just went nuts.”
The police came in and took over.
“Thank you,” Neal said to the man. “Thanks for trying to help.”
The man nodded and went outside to join his family. The paramedic helped bandage his arm. Others entered the house with a stretcher. Not a normal stretcher, but one with restraints.
“We�
��ve got her,” one said, gripping Sara in a practiced hold and heaving her onto the stretcher. “We’ll take her to the hospital.”
“We’re going with you.” Neal rubbed his ribs where Sara had kicked him.
Detective Hamilton stepped into the house behind the paramedics. “It’s fine. They’re kin.”
“All right.” The paramedics lifted the stretcher and carried Sara out. Unable to move, only her strangled moans floated through the air. Neal and Ricky followed.
“I’ll meet you at the hospital,” Hamilton said. He already had his phone out. “I’ll have an FBI agent there too. She’ll be safe now.”
Ricky cocked an eyebrow. “No one can guarantee that.”
Hamilton turned his back on the boy. His eyes met Megan’s. Moving to the hallway where she sat, he knelt in front of her. “Your father will be here soon. Let’s go to the police station. They’ll want a report from you.”
Megan nodded and wiped at her eyes. “Will she be okay?”
“I have no idea.”
“Can I go to the hospital and see her?”
“I don’t know. Where’s Seth?”
She shrugged.
Hamilton moved away.
A moment later Seth touched her shoulder, then pulled her from the wall and folded his arms around her.
Megan sobbed into his shirt. His embrace gave her permission to release the horror of what she’d just seen. Seth didn’t say a word.
“Seth. Megan.”
She looked up and tried to dry her eyes when Hamilton returned, an officer beside him. Hamilton’s brow was furrowed, his eyes focused elsewhere.
“I’m sorry; I’m going to have to leave. Emergency. This officer—” he gestured to the other man.
“Officer Patnum.”
“Patnum. He’ll escort you to the station.”
Megan frowned. “Okay.”
Hamilton stepped swiftly from the house without a backwards glance.
“Odd,” Megan murmured.
“Are either of you hurt?” Patnum asked.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Then let’s get you to the station. We have some standard witness questions.”
November 11, Cincinnati, Ohio
This is Gregorio Rivera. My daughter is in danger. Get in your car and catch the next flight to Cedar Rapids, Iowa.”
Carl had the engine running before he even closed the door to the car. “Why are we playing this game, Rivera?” he demanded into his phone, slamming down on the gas and leaving the police scene behind. This was the man he had been searching for for weeks, and suddenly, out of the blue, Rivera was calling his cell phone and giving him cryptic instructions? “If you want to save your daughter, why can’t you just tell me where she is?”
“I am meeting with my mole in ten minutes. Only then will he pass on the address.”
“Who’s your mole?”
Rivera gave a soft grunt of impatience. “The owner of the house where they are being held. Do you want the information or not?”
“Go on.” Carl drove toward the airport.
“As soon as I have an address, I’ll call you and give it to you. You call the police and get a unit there right away. If I beat them to the location, I will single-handedly kill every living person I find, except my daughter and her friend.”
Even with the heavy Mexican accent—or perhaps because of it—Carl had no doubt Rivera spoke the truth.
Carl made sure his light was flashing and sped through the intersection. “I’ll be at the airport in twenty minutes. But there’s no way I’ll get to Iowa in time.”
“Charter a jet. I just deposited twenty thousand dollars into your account.”
You did what? Carl screamed out in his mind. But he bit his tongue. Take what you can get. “How did you do that?”
Rivera laughed. “You already know. I’ve got to go. Wait for my call.”
Wait for his call. Carl started to make a retort, but he realized Rivera had hung up. Quickly he called the chief. “Chief, it’s Hamilton.”
“Detective. What’s the situation?”
Carl steeled himself for the chief’s reaction to his news. “I’ve received an anonymous tip and I’m flying to Iowa.”
“What? Didn’t you find one of the girls?”
“Yes.” Carl kept his tone casual. “She’s in the FBI’s care now. This concerns the other two girls and it’s urgent. I’m flying to Cedar Rapids.”
There was a moment of silence. And then Chief Miller said, “How do you know this isn’t a setup?”
“I don’t. Except the anonymous tipper was Gregorio Rivera.”
Miller whistled. “Not so anonymous. He’s on our side now?”
“I didn’t say that. But it’s his daughter. I can’t believe he’d lie about her safety.”
“Give me the address.”
“I don’t have it yet.”
“As soon as you have it, give it to me. I want backup right behind you.”
“I plan on having them get there way before me, Chief.”
The call waiting beeped, and Carl pulled the phone away long enough to see “restricted” flash across the small screen. “Chief. This might be him. Gotta go.” He switched over. “Hello?”
“Hamilton.” Rivera’s thick voice came through the phone. “Thirty-four eighteen Wellington Heights.”
“Got it,” Carl said, committing the address to memory. “I’ll call the police right away.”
“Hamilton, I believe you are a good man. I hope you can help my family understand.”
“Understand what?” Carl nearly missed the car jam in front of him and slammed on his breaks. He laid a hand on his horn, wishing he had a siren. Sometimes the blue light wasn’t enough. “What is it that you do?”
“Save people.”
“Save who? From what?”
There was no answer and Carl pulled the phone back to look at it. Rivera had hung up.
Carl sighed and dialed 911.
“What city?” the polite voice asked.
“Cedar Rapids, Iowa.”
Chapter Thirty-two
Megan could not remember the last time she had cried so much. Her eyes ached from the tears, and her mascara ran down her face in tiny rivers. The officer had finished questioning her and was in the other room, talking to Seth. All she could do was stare out the glass window in front of her, watching for her father to pull up to the police station. She didn’t know what he’d be driving, but she knew she’d recognize him the instant he stepped out: the tight jaw, the smoldering fire in his narrowed eyes.
She had the feeling the rest of her senior year wouldn’t be much fun.
The door moved slightly and she saw Seth walk into the room, but she didn’t look at him. She felt so humiliated.
He stood next to her, looking out the window also. Snow flurries floated lightly to the ground, dusting everything outside. They were starting to stick. “They offered to take us to the hospital to see Sara.”
Megan gave a nod.
Seth paused. “Well, did you want to go?”
“I’m waiting for my father.”
“Okay.”
She expected him to turn around and walk out. But he didn’t. “You can go, though.”
He finally looked at her, and she reminded herself to breathe, taking in his ruggedly handsome features. His dark brown eyes held hers. “I’m not leaving you to face your dad alone. It’s my fault you’re in this, after all.”
He had a point. Megan had almost forgotten. “That’s right. You invited me along.”
“Uh-huh. And made up the story about us eloping.”
“You’re right. This is all your fault.” She gave him a weak smile. “Maybe I won’t be
grounded for life.”
“We wouldn’t have found Sara without you. And Neal and Ricky wouldn’t have found us.”
Good points. Megan turned her attention back to the road outside. She hoped her father agreed.
A yellow cab glided to a stop in front of the police station. Megan clenched her fists together and held her breath. The back door opened and Agent Reynolds stepped out. He wore a long gray winter coat, emphasizing the peppering of gray in his hair. The tight jaw and hard eyes were exactly as she had imagined.
He was furious.
Megan lowered her head, the tears starting again.
She heard him asking for her at the desk, and then his heavy footsteps rounded the corner and came into the room. Megan lifted her eyes, steeling herself for his anger.
“Megan.” In two strides he crossed the room and pulled her into a hug. “Are you okay?” He pressed the palms of his hands to her face and stared at her.
She nodded, vaguely realizing he wasn’t angry with her. The hardness hadn’t left his face, but she identified a different emotion now: fear. “Yes.” She felt like she should say she was sorry, to beg for forgiveness. But she wasn’t really sorry.
He released her. “It’s over now. Let’s get you home.” He looked at Seth, his expression growing frosty. “Do you need a ride somewhere?”
Seth shook his head. “No. Listen, I just want to apologize. For letting Megan come with me.”
“Megan’s a big girl. She’ll be accountable for her actions,” Mr. Reynolds said gruffly.
Megan winced. She wasn’t out of trouble yet, apparently. “I’d like to go to the hospital and see Sara. Just to make sure she’s all right.” Megan formed her request carefully. She didn’t want to beg but she couldn’t be demanding either.
“We’ll see. Come on.”
They started out the door, Megan fighting the urge to look back at Seth.
“Sir?” Seth said.
Mr. Reynolds paused. “Yes?”
“If you go to the hospital, I’d like a ride. The officer offered to take me, and I was going to let him. But if you’re already going there . . .”
Altercation Page 21
