by Anthology
She stared at the ceiling, taking a moment, and then faced him. “I thought we could carry on as though we don’t know each other. You know, like we do now.”
“You want to ignore me?”
She glared at him, her eyes dark green in the fading twilight. “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing for the last two years?”
He was genuinely taken aback. He’d considered their relationship professional. It had never occurred to him that he was snubbing her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
She snorted. “Bull.”
“No, it’s not—”
“You look the other way when you see me coming.”
“I do not.”
“Yes, you do, and if our paths cross and you can’t avoid me, you just give me a vague nod. You’re so embarrassed to be seen with me, you can’t even say hello.” She raised her voice. “Look at how you were in the Timothy Morgan case.”
The robber with the baby mask hadn’t paid them any attention, and he wanted to keep it that way. He pursed his lips, meaning to put a finger to them, but couldn’t with his hands tied behind his back. “Hush. This isn’t the place to have this conversation.”
“Why, do you have anything better to do? We’re stuck here for the duration so I might as well tell you that you are a selfish, egotistical, stuck up, SOB fart-brain.”
Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. His ex-wife liked to reel off a whole string of names, but they had never been great together. Her spite hadn’t bothered him. They’d drifted into marriage the way people do when they’ve been dating for a while and need to liven up their relationship. Sophia’s anger hurt.
He shifted so he was no longer leaning on his shoulder, facing her. Instead, he rested the back of his head against the wall, taking the time to sort through everything she had said. As far as he was concerned, she was off base. He was all business when their paths crossed on a case, and there was nothing wrong with that.
Finally, he turned toward her, once again leaning on his side. “I don’t understand why you’re so mad about the way we greet each other.”
Her eyes widened, and then she made a face that suggested he’d lost his mind. “You have to be kidding me.”
“No. I’m civil to you. I’m just not friendly towards you, and do you know why?” He didn’t give her time to answer. “Because I’m a cop and you’re a defense attorney, which is exactly why we broke up in the first place. You could work for any prosecutor’s office in the state.”
“This again. I am as much a part of the justice—”
“I work damn hard to find the bad guys, get the evidence against them, and I obey the law while I’m doing it. Then people like you stand up for them in court and get them off on a technicality.”
She shook her head. Soft brown strands of hair fell in her face. “Four.”
“What do you mean ‘four’?”
“I’ve negotiated tons of cases and won the majority of them, but there are only four judgments that really matter. In each case, I worked pro bono and proved my clients innocent. Those men would’ve ended up in jail if I hadn’t worked like a dog for them. We have due process in this country. That means you can’t just point the finger at someone and say, ‘You’re guilty.’ You have to prove it. We do not live in a dictatorship. Maybe we’re on different sides of the justice equation, but we both play an important part.”
He nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it. “Most criminals plead guilty in the face of overwhelming evidence. If they walk free, then you didn’t do your job very well.”
There was something in the rigidity of her body. Maybe she was just stressed over their situation. They were bound hostages caught up in a bank robbery. The robbers were crashing through the vault, presumably ransacking the safety deposits. But the pain in her eyes, the way she pressed her lips together, and the tension in her spine told him there was more to her story. “Why did you become a lawyer?”
She turned away.
“You might as well tell me. We don’t have anything better to do,” he said, throwing her words back at her.
The other hostages sat quietly in the center of the room. An older woman comforted the still sobbing receptionist, who couldn’t seem to control her fear. The manager had glared at her several times, as had some of the others, but their irritation wouldn’t make any difference to her blind terror.
Sophia gave him a cool look, which suggested he was a slug. “I’ll tell you, but you have to give me your word you won’t tell any of your cop friends.”
“Okaaaay.” He drew out the word, wondering what she could possibly have to hide.
“When I was fifteen, my father was accused of manslaughter. His car killed a pedestrian. He wasn’t driving, but the vehicle was damaged, and he couldn’t prove it wasn’t him at the wheel. He was arrested, denied bail, and sent to jail. My mom and I went to live with my Aunt Valerie. Mom sold our house and spent every penny we had on lawyers. In the end, she found a good one. He managed to prove Dad’s innocence. Our neighbor’s son had ‘borrowed’ the car. A red-light camera had taken his picture. I do this job for all the men and women who are wrongly accused. Everyone is entitled to their day in court.”
Why hadn’t she told him this twelve years ago? The pain she’d endured at having her innocent father go to jail was still with her today. Her life had been shattered, and she’d undergone the nightmare of having her world ripped apart. These were the circumstances that had shaped her into the driven attorney she was today.
The detectives on the case had to have known about the red-light camera. Had they been lazy or just hadn’t wanted to admit they were wrong? Sophia was strong, independent, and prepared to fight to ensure the system worked. It surprised him to realize he respected her.
She fidgeted and attempted to roll her shoulders. The action made her jacket fall open. He remembered the weight and feel of her smooth, silky breasts and how the softest touch would arouse her. He focused on her face, not daring to look at his tented pants. He’d been semi-erect since the moment he’d started talking to her at the courthouse, and being held hostage didn’t seem to have any effect on his lust.
No wonder she taunted him. She hadn’t betrayed him by becoming a defense attorney. He had refused to listen and then dumped her, which made her physical reaction to him even more surprising. “What was last night about?”
“Apparently, you’re still my kryptonite. It’s a flaw. I’m working on it.
She sounded so disheartened he almost smiled. “Don’t you hate it when that happens?”
“It would be helpful in the future if we avoided each other.”
“You’re kidding?” He wasn’t going anywhere and hated she didn’t want to see him again.
She shrugged one shoulder. It was an oddly provocative action. “It was worth a shot. Look, there’s no future for us. We’re all chemistry and no substance, and I need substance.” Her smile wavered, making him wonder if she was as conflicted in her feelings for him as he was for her.
“What do you mean by substance?”
“You know, couples who build something lasting are about more than just sex. They support each other when things get tough. They talk about—”
“Feelings.” He almost rolled his eyes but contained the impulse.
“Maybe. Look, we’re good at the physical thing, but any man can give me that. I want more. I want something real. Let’s face it, a man who can’t even acknowledge me in public is never going to give me the kind of relationship I need.”
His parents had the kind of rapport she was talking about, but he’d never experienced it. The only time he’d even come close was with Sophia. He remembered her face when they’d split. He could still see the pain in her eyes, the anguish. They’d argued over her choice of career, and he’d given her an ultimatum. Help put the bad guys away or we’re through.
Who’d have thought all these years later he’d be begging for her help to save an innocent kid? The fact
that she’d agreed to take the case, in spite of their past, showed her commitment to the justice system. A system he hadn’t fully appreciated until now.
He opened his mouth to tell her she was right but stopped when Old Woman marched into the lobby, his demeanor efficient and military. He had drywall dust on his clothing, hands, and arms. His right hand held an AR-15 assault rifle. Unlike the other robbers, he wasn’t wearing gloves, which meant he either wasn’t in the system or wasn’t worried about getting caught. Cases where criminals burned off their fingerprints were rare because the procedure tended to cause nerve damage. There was another option, but Mateo had only read about it. Adermatoglyphia, a condition where people were born without fingerprints.
Old Woman aimed his weapon directly at Mateo’s head. “Let’s go, lover boy. It’s time to talk to the cops. We’re ready to negotiate.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Sophia gasped as Old woman forced Mateo to his feet and marched him across the bank to a phone that sat on the receptionist’s desk. They’re not going to kill him. They’re not going to kill him. She repeated the words, hoping they were true.
Old woman pressed his weapon against the base of Mateo’s skull. “You’re going to tell them exactly what I say. You will not add anything. You will not change a word. If you try to be clever, I will shoot you.”
Sophia flinched. She remembered the feel of the steel barrel against her temple and knew firsthand how terrifying it was to know that with, one twitch of the finger, she would be dead.
Mateo cut a hate-filled gaze to his captor. “Release the hostages. You have me. I’m a cop. You don’t need them.”
Using the butt of the gun, Old Woman struck Mateo on the back of the head. He stumbled awkwardly and fell to the floor, his bound hands no help in stopping him. He groaned as he landed on his right shoulder and then stilled, his chest heaving.
“Baby, bring the lawyer.” Old Woman grabbed Mateo by his shirt collar, twisting it so the garment choked him. “Do you really think you’re in any position to bargain?” Old Woman shouted.
He released Mateo and then switched his rifle to his other hand. Before Mateo could catch his breath, Old Woman punched him in the stomach. He coughed as he curled into a protective ball.
The man with the baby mask grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet. She tripped, trying to find her footing as he dragged her across the room until she stood beside Mateo, who was now on his feet and bent at the waist. His breath came in loud gasps.
Baby released his hold on her and returned to his post near the front door.
Old Woman rammed the rifle against the nape of her neck with a force that made her wince. She yelped as pain simultaneously radiated down her spine and up into her skull. Her legs turned to jelly. The ceiling seemed to be crashing down on her. She wished she could run away and escape this nightmare. She inhaled deeply, counted to eight, and then exhaled, praying for some much needed restraint.
“You’re a pretty thing, but you won’t look as good without your head.” Using the barrel of the gun, Old Woman pushed her forward.
“Let’s try this again.” Old Woman sneered at Mateo. “If you don’t tell the fucking police exactly what I say, I’ll kill the woman. Then I will kill another hostage and another. But I’ll start with the one that matters most. Do you understand?”
Sophia swallowed, but the lump remained in her throat. She wished she could stop shaking, but her body wouldn’t obey her commands. She tensed her muscles in a desperate attempt at control. Get a grip.
Mateo’s gaze snagged hers. A range of emotions shone in his eyes—anger, fear, maybe even regret. He turned to Old Woman. “Okay.”
The phone rang again.
Old Woman reached out, but stopped, his hand an inch away. “Remember you will repeat my words exactly.”
“Yes.” Mateo’s voice was flat, emotionless.
Old Woman pressed a button, putting the phone on speaker.
“Hello this is Captain Tate. Who am I talking to?”
Mateo looked at Old Woman for guidance.
Old Woman gave a slight nod.
“I’m Detective Mateo Ramirez.”
Old Woman then pressed the gun harder against her neck. She muffled a cry.
“Are you a hostage?”
Old Woman nodded again.
“Yes.” Mateo was tense, rigid.
“I want to speak to whoever’s in charge.”
Old woman shook his head.
“They said no.”
“Are they forcing you to talk?”
Old Woman nodded.
“Yes.”
“What do they want?” Captain Tate was all business. He was new to the police department. Sophia hadn’t worked on any of his cases. She had no idea what kind of a man he was or if he was trained for this situation.
Mateo looked at Old Woman and shrugged, silently asking for an answer.
Old Woman fished a prewritten index card from the pocket of his sweatshirt and held it up for Mateo to read.
Mateo’s eyes widened. “They want ten million dollars by midnight.”
Old Woman threw the card on the floor and then pulled out another card.
Mateo shook his head slightly as if denying the request and then said, “And they want a helicopter.” He probably had his doubts about their ability to comply with the request.
Old Woman eased the gun away so it was no longer jammed against her neck. She turned slightly so she could use her peripheral vision to observe him. She had interviewed a lot of witnesses both on and off the stand and had come to know when their words didn’t match their emotions. It was a gift, one that had helped her earn the reputation as the best defense attorney in the city. Old Woman was lying about the money and about the helicopter. She couldn’t exactly say why she knew that. Maybe it was the way he held his body or the egotistical glint in his eyes.
“Ten million and a helicopter,” Tate said, repeating the request. “My bosses are never going to go for that unless you give me something in return. A show of good faith.”
Old Woman shook his head.
Mateo answered. “He said no.”
“How many hostages do you have?”
Old Woman held up yet another card.
“Twenty,” Mateo repeated. Once again, he shook his head in an almost imperceptible movement.
The number wasn’t right. There were ten patrons and five staff, which meant there were seventeen captives including herself and Mateo.
“Maybe you can release the women and the elderly?” Captain Tate’s irritatingly calm voice echoed over the line.
Old Woman seemed to be prepared for every question and didn’t even need to sort through his replies to get the right answer. It was as though he’d read the hostage negotiation handbook and had arranged his responses accordingly.
“He’ll think about it,” Mateo said.
Old Woman pressed a button and disconnected the call.
She breathed a sigh of relief as Old Woman stepped back, no longer pointing his weapon at her. “Go and sit.”
She did as she was told, returning to her spot on the floor near the teller’s window.
Old Woman stood in front of Mateo, his stance confrontational. “You put your woman in danger. Is that any way to treat a lady?”
Before Mateo could answer, he bashed the butt of the gun into Mateo’s face. Mateo stumbled, but remained on his feet.
“Go and sit with her,” Old woman ordered. “Next time I expect compliance.”
There was something about Old Woman’s word choices that made Sophia take notice. He’d used the word compliance instead of do as I say. That wasn’t much, but an impression was starting to form of someone who was well educated, or at least well read, and highly intelligent. This robbery was well planned, and these weren’t your everyday thieves.
Mateo groaned as he slumped down next to her. The right side of his face and eye were already starting to swell and turn a deep shade of purple.
“A
re you okay?” She itched to put her arms around him and offer comfort, but the best she could do was rest her forehead against his, being careful not to bump his welts.
Mateo tried to smile and then winced with the effort. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been hurt worse.”
“You were right when you said earlier that these guys have a plan. I think they’re playing for time,” she whispered.
As he pulled away, his gaze met hers. She’d expected to see anger and determination, but all she saw was regret. “I’m sorry I was rude to you at work. I should’ve been nicer.”
She didn’t know how to react. She’d been angry that he ignored her and greeted her as if he didn’t want to be seen with her, but this felt like surrender. As though he wanted to make things right before they killed him.
“You stop that right now,” she hissed, keeping her voice low so their captors wouldn’t hear. “We’re getting out of this.”
“Yes ma’am.”
She was relieved to see a spark of hope in his eyes.
He sucked in a deep breath and straightened, as though just the act of breathing had given him strength. Then he smiled. “You’re something else, Sophia Reed. No wonder you’re so good in the sack.”
CHAPTER SIX
FBI Supervisory Special Agent Finn Callaghan stood near Captain Tate, not offering any suggestions. The area around the bank had been cordoned off. Red and blue lights from the surrounding police cruisers lit the night sky. A fire truck and ambulance were on scene just in case. He could feel the pressure in the air. Word that Detective Ramirez was being held captive was now common knowledge, increasing the tension.
As one of only two agents assigned to the Granite City Resident Agency, it wasn’t unusual for him to work closely with local law enforcement. But in this case, he didn’t have any advice to give. He wasn’t a trained negotiator. He was an investigator who was good at conducting interviews and reading body language. Other officers in the Granite City-Elkhead County Police Department whispered about him being a human lie detector, but that wasn’t true. It was almost impossible to tell when someone was lying, mainly because people fibbed every day. From an early age, they were conditioned to tell lies, not because the general population was inherently deceitful, but because telling someone what they wanted to hear made them feel better, and more often than not, kept the peace.
