by Dana Mentink
Zach pulled Violet and Eddie inside the café. People were screaming, crying, so he had to yell to be heard. “NYPD. Everybody stay in here, and move away from the windows,” he commanded. Then he radioed the dispatcher with the location, eyeing the parked cars across the street to see if he could take another shot. “Active shooter, I need backup and an ambulance.” Help would be rolling in seconds.
Violet did not appear to be injured, but she was breathing hard, face pale as milk.
“Tell me what to do,” she whispered.
He gently pushed her toward the tables, farther away from the fractured windows. “Take Eddie. Keep him away from the glass and see if anyone is hurt.”
As he’d suspected, giving her a task seemed to break through the shock. She nodded, accepted Eddie’s leash without a word and crept from patron to patron.
He ran out into the street, crouched behind a newspaper stand, looking for the assailant. There was no sign of movement from across the street, but sirens wailed as the cavalry closed in. Would Beck flee? Or come at them in an effort to silence Violet? He’d be smart to run, but he’d already proved that there was no risk he would not take to get what he wanted. With no sign of Beck, he returned to the ruined café.
Go ahead, Beck. Make your move. I’m ready for you.
When the first officers arrived to tend to the victims, he filled them in as best he could. Violet continued her ministrations, making the rounds of the huddled diners, checking for injuries and reassuring them. The sirens were deafening now, wailing up the street, and in moments the area was awash in more cops and squad cars. It took several more moments for officers to organize and swarm the street, behind the parked cars and then into the nearby shops, clearing the spaces one by one. He joined them in the effort. With each shop they searched, his nerves hitched tighter. Where would Beck have gone? Where had he parked his motorcycle? Or had he come on foot, easily melting away into the crowd to make his escape? He could only relay his information to the arriving patrol officers and help in whatever way he could.
It was a good forty minutes before Noah arrived, followed by Brianne Hayes and Luke Hathaway.
Noah had Zach and the other canine officers regrouped in the café for a debriefing, Scotty at his side, keeping the dog away from the broken glass.
“Nothing so far,” Brianne Hayes said.
Noah looked at her. “I want you in on the interviews of the victims.”
“Yes, sir.” Her dog in training, Stella, the Lab, could encounter similarly traumatized people in her work as a bomb-detection dog. It would aid the dog in the future to gain experience from the shooting.
“We’ll continue to canvass the area and assist the lieutenant in charge of the scene,” Noah said. “He’s asked us to move these witnesses to the building next door, away from all this glass while Brianne gets their statements.”
Brianne nodded. “I’ll handle it.”
“I’ll help,” Luke put in.
“Where’s your dog?” Brianne inquired.
“I came here directly from a class. Bruno’s still in the kennel.”
“I want to get Violet and Eddie away from here,” Zach said. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
“Soon as we finish the secondary sweep, put Eddie in Luke’s car. Violet can go in the front seat.” Noah frowned at him, speaking lower so the others wouldn’t hear. “Could have had mass casualties here, Zach. You should have arranged for backup before you tailed them to the café.”
“I didn’t know she was meeting Bill until just before this all went down. All I could think about was tailing Bill’s car. Things went bad really fast.”
“One radio call was all it would have taken to loop us in.” He fingered his radio, a hard edge creeping into his tone. “That’s why we have these things, you know. And safety protocols. I believe you’ve been trained in all that, correct? Perhaps a refresher course is needed?”
“Noah...” He fought down the adrenaline that made him want to bark at his brother. Not just his brother, his chief. He’d been brash, and he owed Noah an apology and the respect he deserved. “You’re right, Chief. Sorry.”
Noah quieted Scotty, who’d begun to whine. “Apology accepted, but I expect better next time. Let’s do our jobs. You kept her and everybody else safe, so that’s something.”
But he hadn’t kept Bill safe. He couldn’t allow himself to mull over that at the moment. There would be plenty of time for analyzing his miscalculations later.
Violet was still walking around with Eddie in tow, talking in particular to an elderly lady until the medics took over to assess. Brianne and Luke began to herd the group from the café toward the side door that led to the next building. Noah was right. This could have been a scene of mass casualties, and Violet might have been one of them. He took her gently by the wrist and led her to a wooden chair, far away from the windows. “Wait for me here,” he said to her. “Keep an eye on Eddie, okay?”
She nodded, and her meek compliance worried him.
He helped Noah and Brianne talk to witnesses that had been moved into the printing business. The manager had welcomed the victims warmly, offering bottles of water and folding chairs to the shocked patrons. New Yorkers might have the reputation for being tough-minded, but they took care of their own.
When everyone was settled as comfortably as they could be, he returned to the café, where a few officers were taping off the glass-strewn area and taking pictures. Violet sat on a chair, bent over, her cheek pressed to the top of Eddie’s head. The sight of her cuddling his dog stopped him. She looked so small, so frightened, with her escaped curls draped along Eddie’s face. It was as if she’d taken off the tough-girl cape, and now the soft, vulnerable woman underneath was visible. He was not sure how to take it, this new vision of a lifelong friend, but strange feelings overtook him.
“Hey,” he said softly.
She bolted to her feet, twisting the leash between her fingers.
“It’s okay. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I, uh...” She swallowed. “I mean, I think they just put Bill onto a stretcher. But...” Her lower lip trembled. “He’s dead, isn’t he, Zach?”
The sadness and uncertainty in her face cut at him. How he wanted to comfort her, to tell her some sort of fib that would take the pain away, but he would not ever lie to Violet Griffin. Not her, not ever.
“Yes, honey. He’s dead. I’m sorry.”
Her face crumpled and she began to cry, quiet sobs, fists clenched to her middle as if she was trying to hold the tears inside. His heart broke one inch at a time.
Eddie whined and pawed at her shoes.
Zach took her in his arms and held her, stroking her back and pressing a kiss to her temple, rocking her gently back and forth. “Aww, Vi. It’s gonna be okay.” How could he even say it when he’d doubted for the past month that the world would ever look right again? God was surely against him, cruel and comfortless, but with her there, pressed against his chest, he felt something different, which made him recall the words his mother had written in his Bible.
I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep: for thou, Lord, only makest me dwell in safety. Maybe his brain didn’t believe it anymore, but he made his heart recite the words because, though Zach might not deserve peace or safety, Violet surely did.
God...help me believe it again. It was all he could say, the only thing he could pray.
Someone handed him a packet of tissues and he gave one to her. She pressed it to her face and choked out a few more gulping sounds. After a few moments he felt her straighten, and she faced him, swiping the tissue under her eyes.
“I know what you’re thinking. I shouldn’t have come here with Bill. You were right.” New tears traced glistening trails on her cheeks. “Maybe if I hadn’t...” Her mouth quivered again.
He cradled her cheeks between his palms and sp
oke quietly. “Violet, do not go there. Bill is not dead because of you. Beck shot him. Bill didn’t want to cooperate anymore, and he’d become a liability to their operation so Beck murdered him and intended to take you out, too, if Bill hadn’t shielded you. That’s it.”
“His wife, his boys.” She bit her lip and he could see her fighting for control. She would not want to lose it here, not with the cops circling around.
He dried her tears with his thumbs. “We’re leaving. I’ll borrow Luke’s vehicle to take us to my car. It’s a couple of blocks from here. Brianne can help him retrieve his when they’re done with the interviews.”
She didn’t respond, so he picked Eddie up and tucked him under one arm to carry him past the glass. His other hand he offered to Violet. She took it. “Your hands are freezing.”
She mumbled something he didn’t catch. Though she’d refused any medical attention, he resolved to keep a close eye on her for signs of shock. What she’d just witnessed would probably trouble her for many years to come. They exited the café and he purposefully stayed on her right side, to block her view of the bloodstained sidewalk. She clutched his fingers in a death grip as they went by.
“Keep walking, Vi. Look straight ahead.”
When Eddie was secured in Luke’s backseat, he urged her toward the front passenger door. “Sit in here for just a minute while I get a blanket out of the back.”
He’d just grabbed the door handle to open it for her, when a motorcycle roared up the street, ripping through the yellow caution tape.
The rider, Xavier Beck, had stripped off the cap, eyes burning like coals as he punched the motorcycle forward. Steering with one hand, he held a gun in his bloodstained other one. He bore down on them, firing wildly.
Zach had only a moment to throw himself on top of Violet and force her to the street.
* * *
The shots deafened her. Senses on overload, she could not process what was happening. Her arms and legs felt numb, her brain fuzzy. Someone, Zach, she realized, had pushed her down to the ground, shielding her with his torso as bullets peppered the asphalt around them. Sharp bits cut into her chin and the breath was squeezed out of her. Had she been shot? Had he? She could not be sure.
Then Zach pulled her to her feet, yanking her around the other side of the car, tugging her back inside the café, shouting into his radio. We’re still alive, she told herself in disbelief. Thank You, God. Dimly, she heard Zach talking urgently into his radio.
“I’ve gotta get her out of here. I’ll contact you when I can.”
They sprinted out the back entrance and into an alley fetid with the smell of garbage and exhaust while cops surged all over the scene of the second shooting. She stumbled, but he helped her along. “We have to hurry, Violet. Beck made it past our guys. He’s going to start tracking us if he can.”
Terror made her blood run cold. Beck was coming. He’d killed Bill Oscar, her longtime friend, murdered him right on a public bench not three feet away. Now he was coming for her just like he’d promised in the airport. He wouldn’t let her escape again. Icy prickles erupted along her spine. Suddenly, she could not pull any air into her lungs. She staggered to a stop, struggling against a growing dizziness.
He stopped, taking her by the arms, bending so he could look in her face. “We have to keep going.”
But she couldn’t. As much as she wanted to be strong, she simply could not force herself to move past the fear. It was as if her muscles and joints were paralyzed by a strange sort of inertia born of terror and helplessness.
Zach stroked her upper arms as if to warm her. “Vi, listen to me. I’m going to get you out of this. I’m going to keep you safe.” He smiled. “Just like when we were kids and you got stuck in that elm I told you not to climb in the Baisley Pond Park. You wouldn’t let anyone else help you down but me. Noah and Carter tried, and you screamed nonstop until I climbed up and got you. Remember that?”
She remembered. Staring into his eyes, blue as robins’ eggs, she recalled that moment when he’d commanded her to release the branch and hold on to him. Let go, Violet. I won’t let you fall.
Now she tried to catch her breath and calm her terror. He would take care of her if she let him. She knew it with every cell in her being, just like she had as a child, perched on a limb, waiting for Zach and no one else. It felt to her then as though she’d been waiting for him her whole life, waiting to step out on that fragile branch that spanned the distance between the two of them.
“You trust me, don’t you, Vi?”
She could not speak so instead she nodded. No matter what happened, how scared she felt, she would always trust Zach Jameson with everything.
“That’s my Vi,” he said, kissing her on the forehead. He reached behind her and untied her hair, freeing it from the scarf. For one breathless second, he trailed his fingers through her curls. “So you look a little different, harder to spot,” he told her with a quirked smile. “Still gorgeous, just different.”
Gorgeous? She felt anything but. The cut on her shin burned and sweat dampened her brow. Grit stuck to the palms of her hands and one of her shoe heels felt wobbly. She wiped off her hands and fixed her jacket.
Zach turned his baseball cap around backward. “We’ll act casual. Head for a cab or the subway, something. You ready?”
“No, but I’ll go with you, anyway.”
He flashed one more grin. “Eddie will be sorry to be missing out on this adventure.”
Her heart pounded as she suddenly remembered that Eddie was in the back of Luke’s car. “Is he okay?” she asked as they hurried down the alley toward the sidewalk.
“Yeah, I heard him barking when we ran for the café. Luke will take care of him.”
Police cars continued to pour into the area, sirens blasting. As they stepped from the alley onto the sidewalk, Violet’s skin crawled. Was Beck still on his motorcycle, cruising the streets? Or was he on foot now, blending in with the pedestrians who rushed in every direction, panicked by the horrible act of violence that had occurred right around the corner?
Bill’s last moments kept replaying in her mind, twisting her insides with pain. He’d been trying to fix his mistake, trying to warn her as best he could, just a man who’d fallen in with the wrong people, desperate to help his family. He’d risked his own safety to warn her, and it had cost him everything.
Zach pushed her through the agitated crowds until they were several blocks away. He radioed their location before he tucked her arm in his elbow and guided them quickly along. Her heart hammered so hard she was sure the frantic passersby could hear it. A scared woman elbowed past her and she nearly screamed, but Zach pressed her closer and sped up their pace. His expression was determined, calm. He appeared casual as he scanned the road traffic and the approaching people, but she knew he was taking in every detail. His fingers tightened around her wrist.
“There, across the street, nine o’clock.”
She peeked past his shoulder and panic flooded her senses. Beck was standing across the street outside a corner grocery. He held one arm cradled to his body as he slowly perused the street.
Zach relayed Beck’s location to the cops before he spoke to Violet. “He must have figured we’d ducked out the back. Keep moving. Don’t speed up. We’re one of the crowd,” he whispered.
But Beck’s perusal stopped as he fixed on them.
“He’s spotted us, Zach,” she said.
The aboveground subway station loomed over them. The flight of green stairs was dotted with stragglers hurrying to catch the next train. There was no time to wait for backup. Zach hesitated only a moment.
“We’ll beat him to the subway.”
“He’ll catch us before we get there.” Terror nearly blinded her.
“No, he won’t.” Zach grabbed her hand and they began to run.
TWELVE
He sprinted,
Violet right next to him, amazingly agile even on high heels. Dodging past the crowds and earning some dirty looks, they reached the turnstiles.
“Zach,” she panted, clutching at him. “I don’t have my purse. I left it on the bench.”
No purse meant no MetroCard. Zach wasted no time beelining to a transit official and flashing his badge. “We need to get through right now.”
The heavyset officer asked no questions, just ushered them past the turnstile. They joined the people on the platform behind the yellow line, just as the train roared into the station. Zach tried to spot Beck. Had he had enough time to chase them down?
It seemed like the station was full of dark-clad men. He elbowed his way deeper into the crowd, putting his lips to her ear.
“If we get separated, make your way to this address.” He mumbled it twice until she caught his collar and drew him closer.
“You’re not leaving me.”
“You’ll get on the train and get away from here. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Not going without you.”
“If I spot him, I have to go after him, Vi. It’s the only way to end this.”
Her eyes burned and her lips tightened into a thin line. “Zach William Jameson, if you don’t get onto this train with me I’ll scream louder than I did from the top of that elm tree.”
He wanted to laugh at her ferocious tone, but he knew it came from a place of deep fear. Would she be safer if he stayed behind and watched for Beck? But if the guy somehow managed to slip past him on the train, Violet would be completely unprotected.
He was reaching for his radio to update Noah when the people began to edge forward as the train doors slid open. Together or separate? She answered for him by grabbing his wrist and jerking him along until they were both bundled into the car. During the maneuver her high heel broke, but she hobbled along without missing a beat.
The jostling throng set his nerves firing as people crammed into the subway car. He’d never met a cop who felt comfortable in a closed space no matter what the circumstances, and he was no different. He swallowed against a wave of claustrophobia as the doors slid shut. Violet was unfazed, edging in and around the various passengers until she found an unoccupied seat on the end. She collapsed into it. Zach stood next to her, leaning on the silver pole, where he had a good view of every door, including the one to the adjoining car.
