Silent Night Standoff

by Susan Sleeman

  She dropped onto the hallway chair. He snapped cuffs on her wrists and pressed duct tape to her mouth. Just like Darcie? Maybe. With only one good hand it seemed unlikely that he’d gotten the drop on Darcie, but Skyler couldn’t risk him hurting either of them to find out.

  He tugged the ski mask into place, then jerked her to her feet. “Let’s move.”

  He dragged her toward the back door, jerking and pulling on the heavy metal cuffs. She saw Darcie tied to a chair on the far side of the family room, her mouth covered with duct tape. Terror lurked in her eyes.

  Skyler tried to convey confidence as the man shoved her out of the building, but her fear spiraled out of control. He hauled her to a van and pushed her into the back. He bound her ankles and cuffed her to the side wall, then offered a sickly smile before closing the door with a bang.

  Skyler looked around the space for a weapon. Searching, seeking. For something. Anything to free herself.

  She had to escape before they reached their destination. She didn’t know what he planned to do to her, but he’d let her get a clear look at his face. Not good. She was a deputy. She knew what that meant. He wasn’t worried about her identifying him. He didn’t plan to let her live that long.

  * * *

  Logan stared at the report he’d created for Inman last night. Logan had met his final goal and he should be feeling good about himself. But he didn’t. Not when he couldn’t forget the look in Skyler’s eyes before she’d slammed the door. He’d royally messed things up with her, and he didn’t know if he could fix it.

  His phone pealed, and he grabbed it, hoping to see Skyler’s name on the display. The caller ID announced his father. Logan could barely drum up enough enthusiasm to answer.

  “Dad,” he said.

  “I heard about the pending promotion.” He sounded businesslike and less than impressed, as he always did.

  “And?” Logan asked, fishing for a compliment and hating himself for doing so.

  “You’ve accomplished something special.” He sounded as if he were talking to a complete stranger.

  No congratulations. No “I’m proud of you, son.” Just a somewhat grudgingly said statement.

  Still, it was more than Logan had ever received from his father and he clung to it, sitting back to wait for that long-awaited feeling of elation to take over.

  He felt empty. Emotionally bankrupt.

  “I worked hard,” he said lamely as if he could fix the ache with a few more words of praise from his dad.

  “We all work hard,” his father replied, and Logan knew with a certainty that his father would never give him the validation he’d been seeking.

  Logan had tried so hard to emulate his father, but what good did it do him?

  And then it hit him.

  I don’t want to be anything like him. Not an empty shell of a person. I want to live. Fully. Richly.

  And that meant a wife and kids that he could love and spoil in ways his father never dreamed of. And it also meant Skyler.

  “Thanks for calling, Dad,” he said. “I’ve got to go.”

  Not used to being dismissed, his father sputtered, but Logan hung up. For the first time in his life he felt good about how he’d handled his father. Logan had always sought his father’s love. Always failing so he’d substituted goals and accomplishments. To live as his parents had. To live for the things the world had to offer.

  Skyler had told him repeatedly how wrong he was, but he hadn’t listened and he’d let go of the very thing he’d been searching for.

  Love. Her love.

  He could see her standing in front of the Christmas tree, smiling up at him. He remembered the kiss, and the peace he’d yearned for finally filled the void in his heart. He wanted nothing more than to marry her and spend his life making up to her for all he’d put her through.

  Hopefully it wasn’t too late to tell her how much he cared for her. Hopefully she’d forgive him for being such a fool.

  Hopefully.

  * * *

  Skyler listened to the rhythmic hum of the studded tires grating over the snow-packed road. She’d first hoped the weather would slow her abductor down, but he’d been prepared. For the first time ever, she lamented that studded tires and chains were legal in Oregon.

  The van suddenly slowed, bumping over rutted country roads, then stopped.

  “We’re here,” the man called out.

  She felt the vehicle lighten as he hopped down. He opened the back door and hauled her out. She searched the area. They were out in the middle of nowhere. In a field filled with tall drifts of snow. A narrow trail cut through the mounds of snow, leading deeper into trees as thick as a forest.

  No one would find her out here. No one. Her heart fell and panic threatened to take her down.

  The man started moving them forward. “I suppose I should tell you who I am before it’s too late. Name’s Elroy Eaton.”

  Tony Eaton’s father? My first solo negotiation. The poor solider who committed suicide.

  “I doubt you remember my son, Tony. You were supposed to get him help for his PTSD, but he ended up doing time and took his life in jail.”

  How could he think she’d forgotten Tony? The poor man had been so desperate for help that he’d held a psychiatrist hostage at the VA hospital and begged for care. She’d never forget that or his death. She negotiated the standoff, and he shouldn’t have done time. But he’d made a mistake. A big one.

  He’d threatened the president’s life while in his holding cell awaiting a psych evaluation. Threats to the president were taken seriously and carried a stiff federal sentence. One he didn’t think he could serve. So he’d ended his life.

  If Eaton would remove her tape, she could tell him that, but he continued to drag her through knee-deep snowdrifts toward an older-model car nearly buried in the snow. Even wearing boots, the icy snow settled in, instantly chilling her feet.

  He jerked open the driver’s door and shoved her onto the seat, then cuffed her to the wheel. As he looked down at her, the snow landed on his dark hair, making him look even older. “I’m sure you didn’t have a clue that I blamed you. That I wanted you to pay.”

  Burning rage darkened his eyes. “How I wanted it. But I didn’t believe in the whole eye for an eye thing, so I left you alone. But then...” He paused, fisted his hands and took in a few slow breaths as if he struggled to control himself. “Then these unrelenting stories came on the news. You were a hero. A big hero. Everyone was eating it up. Hero, my eye! Just the opposite. I couldn’t let you trick another unsuspecting person the way you fooled my Tony.”

  A smile slid across his face. “There’s only one way to stop you. You must die.”

  * * *

  Logan tried calling Skyler again, but she didn’t answer. He left another message, then tried to throw himself into his job. Didn’t work. She was all he could think about.

  He glanced at the clock. Two hours until the press conference. He quickly calculated the time it’d take to get to the firehouse and convince her to talk to him, then get back to the office in time for the press conference.

  With the snow coming down hard, the odds were against him, but he didn’t care. Telling Skyler how he felt and making up with her seemed as essential as breathing to him.

  He made it to his car in the parking garage in record time, then plowed through eight inches of snow to arrive at the firehouse, frazzled and worn-out from the treacherous drive.

  The command truck sat in the driveway along with the team’s cars. The snow had likely brought them home early. He was so thankful Skyler was inside, toasty warm, not out on these roads.

  He trudged through snow to the door, but before he could knock, Jake jerked it open. The other squad members except Skyler stood right behind him. Logan remembered Jake’s earlier warning t
hat if he hurt Skyler again, he’d have to deal with five people with guns, but the rifle Brady carried seemed like overkill to Logan.

  “Before you say anything, I need to talk to Skyler,” he said. “I know she—”

  “She’s been abducted,” Jake interrupted.

  “What? How?” Logan’s stomach plummeted.

  “A man broke in and tied me up, then took off with Skyler.” Darcie rubbed eyes red from crying. “I managed to get to a phone and call Jake.”

  “Roger?” Logan asked.

  She shook her head. “He wore a ski mask, so I couldn’t be sure at first. But then I noticed his prosthetic hand.”

  “Roger has both of his hands.” Logan’s mind raced over possibilities, but he couldn’t come up with any. Fear sent his pulse skating higher. “Then who?”

  “We figured it might have to do with the third military file Skyler pulled for review.”

  The one Logan had put off. “But Skyler told me the guy committed suicide.”

  “That’s why we looked into his family instead,” Cash said. “Turns out his dad lost his hand in an explosion in his younger years. We’re headed to his house now.”

  “I’m coming with you.” Logan crossed his arms and waited for an argument.

  “Then you’d better get your vest.” Jake fixed his eyes on Logan, sending a wave of panic through his body. “With so little time to plan, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if this all goes south on us.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  Standing outside Skyler’s door, Eaton pulled a laptop from his backpack. “Thanks to that reporter Paul Parsons, no one will know I was behind this and I won’t be headed to jail like my poor, poor Tony.”

  Paul Parsons? What does he have to do with this?

  Eaton set the computer on the roof. “His broadcasts tipped me off to the fact that the robber who’d tried to run you off the road likely had a military connection. All I had to do was make sure I left plenty of evidence pointing to someone from the military. You’d waste your time tracking down that connection and no one would ever suspect me.”

  Thanks, Parsons.

  Eaton frowned. “And I’d have been successful in taking you out long before now. If that agent hadn’t gotten in the way all the time. But you know...it’s turned out better this way. Everyone will know who you really are.” That hideous smile returned for a flash before he concentrated on the computer. “Just a few more things to do and you won’t make any more promises to helpless people that you won’t keep.”

  He started humming as he dug out a small webcam and clicked a few keys on the laptop. Holding out the camera, he moved his arm around as he watched his computer. “Recording perfectly.”

  Was he planning to make a video of some sort?

  He gently clicked her door closed, then grabbed the computer and went around to sit in the passenger side. Melting snow slid from his hair, but he didn’t seem to notice it as he flipped on the overhead light and mounted the camera on the window beside him. “It would’ve been simpler if I’d been a better shot or even if you’d tripped the bomb at your house. But it’s so much more satisfying seeing your face.”

  No wonder Marty hadn’t claimed responsibility for these attempts on her life. He didn’t do them.

  “There.” Eaton showed her the computer screen.

  The video from the camera’s wide-angle lens recorded her every movement. He removed a timer from his pocket, connected wires running to the back of the car, then pressed a few buttons. The digital screen came to life. She saw the neon-green numbers start a three-hour countdown before he mounted the timer on the window next to her, where the camera caught it, as well.

  “I don’t suppose I told you about this little baby. Yes, it’s for explosives in the trunk. Not very original, I know, but effective. Don’t you agree?” He looked at her as if he really expected her to be able to answer him. “I’d rather not give you three hours, but then it allows me time to get back to town and make sure people have plenty of time to tell others about the video. I’d like to see it go viral.”

  She mumbled against the tape and pulled against her cuffs.

  “Now a quick message to explain this all to the viewers.” He jerked down his mask and started the video recording. He leaned close to her and she could smell his nervous sweat as he disguised his voice and repeated Tony’s story, withholding their names.

  “Perfect,” he said and slipped out of the car. Once he was out of the camera’s range, he removed his mask. “Relax, Deputy. Save your energy to enjoy the big event.” He leaned back in, that sick smile playing on his lips again. “Since I’m broadcasting your little performance live on the internet, I can’t take the tape off your mouth or you might find a way to summon help. Too bad. The video would be so much more entertaining if you could scream.”

  * * *

  Seated in the back of the FRS vehicle with Cash and Darcie, Logan listened to the team recount Tony Eaton’s story. Jake drove and Brady rode shotgun. Literally.

  Archer sat forward. “Tony’s father never threatened Skyler, but it’s seeming like he blames her.”

  “But why now all of a sudden?” Logan asked.

  “Maybe all the publicity she’d received lately set him off,” Archer suggested.

  “So what’s the plan then? We go to his house and you use your mad negotiation skills to get her back?”

  Cash and Archer exchanged a troubled look.

  Logan’s anxiety spiraled out of control. “What are you not telling me?”

  Cash clamped a hand on the back of his neck. “Eaton was a construction demolitions expert in his younger years. It’s how he lost his hand.”

  The thought left Logan as cold as the storm raging outside. “So he knows bombs and he’s got Skyler. He won’t likely blow up his own house, which means she’s probably not there.” At the thought of her at some unknown location in the hands of a bomber, Logan could barely breathe.

  “The good news is there haven’t been any explosions reported in the city,” Cash said. “So if that is his plan, he hasn’t acted yet.”

  Logan grabbed on to the positive thought like a lifeline and shrugged into his vest. The squad ran down their plan, which they agreed would have to remain fluid once they saw what they were facing. When the truck slowed to a crawl, Logan moved to the front of the vehicle to look out the window.

  “That’s our place.” Jake stopped in the middle of the road and pointed at a modest bungalow.

  Multicolored Christmas lights glowed at the roofline and light shone through the large picture window. The scene looked like an idyllic Christmas setting Skyler would embrace and not at all like the house of a killer.

  “Looks like he’s home,” Logan said hopefully.

  Brady lifted his binoculars. “If he took the trouble to put up lights, I doubt he’s planning to kill himself, too.”

  “Which means either he’s not using a bomb or she’s not here.” Logan moved closer to the window to get a better view.

  “There’s movement inside,” Brady announced.

  “Most likely Eaton then. His wife is deceased and Tony was their only child.” Jake looked at Logan. “How do we want to approach this?”

  Approach? “I’d like to storm the place, but we’re better off in stealth mode and surprising him.”

  Jake nodded. “Let me park this bad boy and we’ll go in.”

  Logan waited for one of them to say he was staying in the truck but no one spoke. The men were double-checking their weapons, and Darcie was gnawing on her fingernails.

  Jake tossed a headset to Logan. “You’re with me. Archer and Cash, you’re lead team. Brady, locate a stand with good visibility—if there is any in this storm—and take it. Everyone listen for my directions.”

  They hopped out of the van, and the blo
wing snow bit into Logan’s face. He prayed Skyler was inside and not somewhere out in the cold, a bomb strapped to her chest.

  Archer and Cash crept into location behind a parked car, then signaled for the others to move in. They’d just reached the lawn when a chair was hurled through the picture window, followed by a gunshot blast.

  “Down.” Jake’s command had everyone hitting the ground as a fresh volley of shots mixed with the keening wind.

  “Tell them to hold their fire,” Logan whispered frantically at Jake. “If Skyler isn’t inside, we need Eaton alive or we’ll never find her.”

  Jake leaned toward his mic, but another round of shots rang out, skipping across the lawn and making Jake dive for cover. The other team suddenly returned fire, and Logan saw Eaton go down.

  “No!” Logan screamed. “We need him.”

  “Hold your fire,” Jake yelled, but Logan feared it was too late.

  The neighborhood went silent, a barking dog the only sound besides the wind howling over them.

  “He’s not getting up,” Logan said. “We need to go in.”

  “Agreed.” Jake signaled for the squad to advance.

  Logan rose, expecting a bullet to knock him down again. Half hoping for one as it would mean Eaton was still alive. But none came. They scrambled up to the front door unscathed. Logan reached for the knob.

  Cash grabbed his arm. “Stop. He’s a demo expert. This could be a trap.”

  Logan didn’t want to waste time, but he stepped back to let Cash shine his headlamp on the door frame to inspect it. “We’re good, but be careful inside and wait for my direction before moving.”

  Jake met Logan’s gaze. “We go on three.”

  Logan nodded.

  “One. Two. Three.”

  Logan burst through the door and quickly swept the small family room. Eaton lay on the floor. Blood oozing from his chest, his hand pressed to the seeping spot. Logan should be careful and wait for Cash’s all clear, but he had to stop the bleeding and keep Eaton alive to question him in the event Skyler wasn’t there. He ran to him and kicked his rifle across the room. After holstering his own gun, he grabbed a nearby afghan and wadded it up before dropping to his knees by the moaning Eaton.