She gave a nervous laugh, felt the tension in her stomach, but didn’t move an inch.
Mikaela stirred as the credits ran across the screen. She covered a yawn as she sat up. “Well, now you know what a good hostess I am. Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. You obviously needed the rest. I’m glad it was me you rested on.”
“For someone who claims to have no experience with relationships, you do a good job of knowing what to say.” Mikaela rotated her neck and grimaced. “I’d better stand up, work out the kinks.”
Sara watched as Mikaela stretched gingerly. “Want me to give you a back rub? One of my jobs was as a masseuse.” She wiggled her fingers. “I promise to be gentle.”
“My back’s okay, but if you could work on my neck and shoulders I’d be in heaven.”
With Mikaela sitting on the floor in front of her, Sara worked out the knots and kinks in her neck and shoulders. If the sounds coming out of Mikaela’s mouth made her squirm, Sara wasn’t talking. “I think that should do it.”
“Yes. And when my bones stiffen back up, I’ll be able to stand.” She sighed. “You have wonderful, no, magical fingers.”
“It’s only fitting since I always seem to have a magical time when I’m with you.” Sara dropped a kiss on top of her head. “What if I use these magical fingers to order pizza? The popcorn’s definitely worn off.”
Chapter Seventeen
Sara stepped aside to let Roger enter the office first. She had no desire to be run over as he raced to clock out.
“Another Monday done,” he said, reaching for his time card.
She imagined he had a calendar where he crossed off each day on the way to retirement. “How many Mondays you got left?”
He punched out. “More than one.” He looked at Jackson, who was on the phone, and lowered his voice. “May have fewer if I were to get sick.”
She didn’t doubt he had his personal hours planned out to the minute. “What’re you going to do with your days afterward?”
Roger smiled. “Fishing and hunting come to mind. I reckon I can do anything I want to.”
“I’m going to need one of you to check out a situation on ten,” Jackson said before Sara could clock out. “Just got off the phone with a client, but she didn’t know what exactly was happening.”
“I’ll take it.” Sara returned her card to its slot.
“Thanks. Radio me when you know what the situation is.”
She took the elevator, hoping there wasn’t another dead body in the bathroom. With that in mind, her first stop was the women’s bathroom. It was clear, so she proceeded to the men’s and found it clear as well. Whatever the situation, it did not involve dead homeless people in the bathroom, and she liked that.
Sara exited the bathroom, took a right. There was a big law firm that took up the north side of the floor, heavy on staff but usually light on clients. Maybe not so light today.
Silence. That’s what met her when she opened the door to the suite. No receptionist, no murmurs of conversation from the offices beyond the receptionist’s desk, no nothing.
“Building security.” There was no response to her call and unease morphed into concern. Something had happened here. Something that cleared out the normally busy office.
Her instinct was to turn around and walk away. Her duty was to assess the situation. Could be someone was injured and waiting for help. My help, she thought. She tightened her grip on the two-way radio. With her heart hammering in her chest, she moved farther into the suite and found more nothingness. Time to call it in.
She fumbled her radio at the sound of Jackson’s voice but managed to hold on. Whatever he’d said was lost. “North suite looks empty. What—”
“Get out. Guy’s got a gun on the south end. Cops on the way.”
“Roger that!” She took a few seconds to decide it was faster to exit the suite to get to the north stairwell than to find her way through the maze of offices. Legs pumping, she tore down the hall, rounded the corner by the elevator and almost fell as she came to an abrupt stop.
Sara imagined it would have been hard to tell which of them was more surprised: her, the crazed-looking white male or the very pregnant, clearly terrified African-American female with a gun to her head. Sara raised her hands, then held her breath as she waited for the gunman to make the first move. Her breath came out with a whoosh when his response was to level the gun at her. She had a moment to think of Mikaela and wonder why this was happening to her now, when she was finally getting her life together.
“Show me your weapon.”
“I…I’m building security, sir. Don’t have one.”
“Take off your jacket and turn around. Slowly,” he cautioned.
She struggled against panic. Instructions on dealing with situations such as the one she found herself in had not been in the training manual. She would see that got rectified, but only if she made it. Sweat beaded under her arms as she complied with his demands, this despite promises of dryness from the maker of her deodorant.
“You’re going to want to get on your radio and tell your boss I have a hostage and I’m not afraid to use this gun.” As if to emphasize his point, he fired a couple of shots overhead.
Once she got her breathing under control, Sara’s mind became a little less foggy. “Uh, okay. Yeah, okay. What…uh, what do you want, sir? He’s going to ask what you want.”
“What I want?” he shouted, waving the gun around. “I tell you what I fucking want. I want my cheating whore of a wife and that motherfucker she’s fucking to look me in the eye and explain to me why they decided to fuck up my life. Why they decided to fuck up my kids’ lives.”
Shit, she thought, why couldn’t it be something easy like a plane and money? Something they had a chance of getting. “I need to put down my hands to call, sir.”
“Don’t try anything, or else.” He jammed the gun under the other woman’s chin.
Sara’s heartbeat ratcheted up a couple of notches. Something she wouldn’t have thought possible. “Take it easy, sir. No funny stuff. I promise.” She hit the talk button on the two-way radio. “Jackson, we have a situation. He’s got a hostage and a gun.”
“You okay?”
“Uh, yeah. He wants to see his wife and his wife’s, uh, friend.”
“You tell him I’m not afraid to use this gun if I don’t get what I want.”
“He can hear you, sir.” Sara rubbed a sweaty palm against her pants and waited for Jackson’s response. She hoped the police would get here soon. She would be happy to let the professionals deal with this.
“Sara, do you have your phone?” Jackson asked.
“Yeah.”
“Expect a call.”
The radio went dead. Moments later, her cell phone buzzed. She looked at the gunman for permission before answering. “Sara Gordon.”
“This is Officer Brandies,” a smooth, decidedly female voice announced. “How many people are with you now?”
“Two. That includes him. He, uh, he has some demands.” Sara kept her eyes trained on the gun, not wanting to see the terror in the other woman’s eyes or the tears running down her face.
“You put that on speaker phone!” he demanded. “I want to hear what they’re saying.”
“Can I get his name and the name of the hostage?”
“You don’t worry about that. The names you need to know are Ashley Pate and David Hays. You get them down here and I’ll let these people go.” He rattled off a number. “My cheating whore of a wife takes that damn phone everywhere. Now I know why.”
“Mr.…” Officer Brandies’ voice trailed off. She was obviously expecting an answer.
“You get them here, we’ll talk. Turn that off,” he told Sara. “I’m done talking for now.”
Check, she thought, as she put the phone in her pocket. There was no way the cops were going to hand over two civilians to an armed guy who was raving mad.
“I…I still need to go to the bathroom.” It was
said so quietly, Sara had to strain to hear the words.
The look he leveled at the pregnant woman conveyed his disgust. “You lead the way,” he said, motioning with the gun in Sara’s direction. “Don’t try to escape. I’ll shoot you right in the back.”
She nodded, turned around very slowly and walked to the bathroom, praying the whole way.
The gunman positioned himself in the doorway of the bathroom. “You try anything and this one dies,” he told the hostage. “Then you.”
The woman scurried into the handicap stall without a word or a look back.
Sara leaned against the wall, her mind racing a mile a minute as she tried to figure out if and when to make a move. She didn’t know much about guns except that she didn’t want to get shot with one. Didn’t want the pregnant woman to get shot with one either. That meant she had to stay alert, stay ready to take action when it became obvious the adulterous couple wasn’t going to be produced.
She didn’t want to think he would shoot the other woman, harm the baby. He’d been concerned about how the affair affected his kids, she remembered. A man like that surely wouldn’t kill an innocent soon-to-be-born child, would surely empathize with another parent.
Her certainty faded five minutes later when they walked into the reception area of B & M Associates. Two bodies were sprawled on the floor. The pregnant woman drew in a sharp breath and covered her mouth. Sara thought it might be to suppress a scream. She couldn’t blame her. She was feeling pretty shaky herself, fighting hard not to let the sight of two bodies, of the blood, get to her. It wasn’t easy as memories flashed through her mind. She had to remind herself she wasn’t a helpless child now. That she hadn’t lost her parents again.
It’s not them, she thought, making herself look closely at the bodies on the floor. One was facedown. From the looks of things, he had been shot trying to escape. The other one, a young-looking man, was face up. A bright red spot told the story of a shot to the stomach. Sara swallowed hard. This guy was more out of control than she’d figured. More willing to show his anger with his gun and more dangerous. She looked away and wondered how the hell she was supposed to get them out of this alive.
Her cell buzzed, and she gave a start. Her nerves stretched thin, she only answered after getting a nod from the gunman. “Sara Gordon.”
“Officer Brandies here. Is Mr. Pate available?”
“Hold on.” She held out the phone, her hand shaking. “Uh, the cops want to talk to you.”
“Put it on speaker,” he demanded, not budging from his position next to the other hostage.
“He…he’s here. On…on speaker phone.”
“Mr. Pate, this is Officer Brandies with the Atlanta Police Department.”
“Have you got them? Have you got those cheating motherfuckers?”
“We have a problem, Mr. Pate. Your wife is not at your house and she’s not answering her cell phone. Do you know another way for us to locate her?”
“If I knew where the whore was do you think I’d be here looking for her? She’s supposed to be at work. Some big project that was taking all her damn time. Fucking lie! Why didn’t I see it was a fucking lie?” He was screaming as he advanced on the phone in Sara’s hand, dragging the pregnant woman with him.
“It’s not your fault, Mr. Pate,” Officer Brandies said, her tone conciliatory. “We will find her.”
“And him. Probably with him now. Up in some hotel fucking when they’re supposed to be working. Got my kids in aftercare when they should be home ’cause she’s working extra hours, ’cause she’s so damn busy at work. Lies. All lies.”
Sara exchanged a quick glance with the other woman and saw the same concern she felt reflected on her face. Pate was clearly escalating toward a meltdown.
“Mr. Pate, please know we are doing everything we can to locate your wife and David Hays. Meanwhile, I need to ask about the people you have with you.”
“You asked your last question, lady. The next time you call it’d better be to say you found the lying, whoring bitch!” He snatched the phone from Sara and disconnected the call.
When he fisted the cell and drew back his arm, Sara was afraid he was going to fling it against the wall. Who knew what could happen after that. Instead, to her relief, he took a deep breath and slipped it into his pocket.
“You two, sit on the sofa. Nice and easy now.” He kicked one of the bodies. “You already know what I do to those who don’t listen.”
Feeling the other woman tremble, Sara put an arm around her shoulders and drew her close. She left off the usual platitudes about everything being all right because she wasn’t sure it would be. Wasn’t sure he wouldn’t shoot a pregnant woman as easily as he’d shot the two men.
As she stroked the other woman’s back, a memory of her mom and dad surfaced. Her dad had been rubbing her mother’s back, telling her how good she was doing, how they were almost to the last trimester. How everything was going to be okay and how happy they would be when they held their baby boy.
Tears sprang to Sara’s eyes. Her dad hadn’t known that would never happen. Neither one of them had known, and so her mother had accepted the words at face value. Had felt some relief that her back wouldn’t always give her trouble, that having the baby would make it all worthwhile. Even Sara, who had been watching TV, had been happy to know her mom and baby brother were okay.
“I’ll do my best to keep you safe,” she said softly. “You and the baby. Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” she asked loudly enough for Pate to hear. She wanted him to see a mother and a baby, not just a hostage.
“Girl.” She stroked her stomach. “We haven’t picked out a name yet. I like Keisha, after my favorite aunt who passed from breast cancer.”
“Keisha’s nice. What does your husband say?”
“He likes Jaelynn. Says it’s not as popular and our girl will stand out. I told him she could stand out in other ways. I want her to be the first girl in my family to go to college, get a degree.”
Sara stole a look at Pate, wanting to know if they had his attention. They had. “When is she due?”
“She’s due two weeks from tomorrow. Today was supposed to be my last day at work.” She teared up, quickly wiped away tears. “They threw me a shower. We were supposed to have it a couple of weeks ago, but”—she shot a furtive glance at Pate— “there was so much work and Mr. Barns, Nate, didn’t get back until today and he wanted to be here for it.” The tears flowed freely, and this time, she did nothing to stop them. “He was so sweet, always making sure I felt okay. He has two kids, so he’s been through this.” She looked at the bodies and said quietly, “Had two kids.”
“What’s your name?”
“Shawanna. Shawanna Brown.”
“I’m Sara Gordon. But you already know that. Pleased to meet you.”
“I see you all the time downstairs. I always thought you looked like a nice person.”
“I try.”
Shawanna yawned. “Sorry. I get sleepy in the afternoon, and what with the shower and all…”
“You’re sleeping for two now, I guess.”
“Keisha likes to kick at night. Art’s sure she’s going to play soccer. I had to stop him from buying her a soccer ball. Told him he had to wait till she could walk.”
“Art sounds like he’s eager to be a father.” Sara casually stretched her neck from side to side and discovered they still had Pate’s attention. She hoped it was a good sign. Hoped Pate would think about how Art would feel before he hurt Keisha and her baby.
“Oh, he is. He calls me all the time, checking to make sure we’re okay. He doesn’t work that far from here.” Shawanna lowered her voice. “He’s got to be worried. I was supposed to get off early, but that man wouldn’t let me answer my phone.”
Sara didn’t have a comeback for that. Art had probably been told of the situation by now. He was probably outside, worried out of his mind and wishing he could trade places with his wife. “Then he’ll be happy to see you when th
is is over.”
The office phone rang, making them jump.
“Let her answer it,” Pate said, pointing the gun at Shawanna.
Sara helped her stand, supported her past the bodies and to the desk.
“Hello. This is Shawanna Brown.” Her voice trembled. She listened, then gripped the receiver tightly and looked at the two dead men. “They’re not available…Yes…Yes…Mr. Pate, they want to speak to you.”
Sara took the receiver from Shawanna’s trembling hand as she moved to shield her from Pate and the gun.
“Who is it?” he demanded.
“It’s Officer Brandies,” Shawanna said. “She…she has someone you want to talk to.”
He snatched the receiver from Sara’s hand. “Where is she? Put her on! You put her on right now!”
The moment of silence that followed was louder than his shouting. Sara hoped his wife really was there.
Pate’s body stiffened. “Why? Why would you do this to us? To my kids?” Gone was the belligerent man. In his place was one who was obviously hurting. He turned his back to Sara and Shawanna. “I need to understand how you could do this to me.”
While Pate was getting his explanation, Sara studied the door, the distance between it and them. She estimated the time Shawanna would need to get there and get out and judged it doable. Pate, distracted by his wife, had obviously forgotten about them. She could probably get to him before he had time to shoot her. But not with Shawanna anywhere near.
“I’ll distract him while you run,” she whispered. “Elevators are probably turned off. Take the stairs up to eleven because he’ll expect you to go down.” She slid her security pass out of her pocket, then checked on Pate. She needn’t have bothered. He still had his back to them. “This will unlock any door. Call the police and find a place to hide. I’ll see you downstairs.”
Full Circle Page 21
