Declan

by Chris Keniston

"Jake Thomas has locked himself in the feed store with Charlotte and Meg."

  "Damn it." Turning quickly, he tossed the chart in his hand onto the counter as he passed. "Reschedule everyone."

  He was already halfway to the door, when Pat called after him, "Doc. He has a gun."

  Chapter Eight

  In a town this small, there was little need to run the patrol car with lights and sirens, especially if he didn't want half the town following him the few blocks, but damn if right about now, DJ didn't wish he could fly.

  From the other direction, Reed's car squealed into an empty space in front of the feed store. He was out of the car and positioned at the far edge of the brick building by the time DJ had reached the storefront. Taking only an extra minute, he circled around to the trunk, pulled out his vest and drew in a deep breath. He thought he'd never have to use one of these again. Grabbing the nearby rifle, he sucked in more air. With any luck, the only thing in his sights today would be at the other end of the binoculars now hanging around his neck. Trotting the long way around out of Jake's line of vision, DJ came to a stop by his junior officer. "What have we got?"

  Reed shook his head. "I can only see Jake. He seems to be pacing at the back of the store. Hasn't looked up. I don't think he knows we're here."

  "Who called it in?"

  "I did." Ned came hurrying over from his garage. "We were just jawing about the weather and how maybe this summer won't be a scorcher."

  DJ nodded and hoped for the abridged version.

  "Meg Farraday came in, seems she and Charlotte were going to lunch. Or was it shopping?"

  "Doesn't matter. What happened?" DJ prompted.

  "That's just it. I don't know." He shrugged. "I said something about how pretty the ladies looked and Jake exploded. The phone rang and he yanked the cord out of the wall. I knew something wasn't right, especially when I saw the way his wife flinched and Meg shifted to stand in front of her."

  "Meg stood in front of Charlotte?"

  Ned nodded. "Like she was going to protect her or something. I may be too old to put up a good fight, but I can still think. I shook my head, smiled and said, some days I'd like to do just that to my old phone. I'd hoped it would put him at ease, but it just seemed to fire him up. He looked like that TV character who turned green."

  Ned went quiet and Reed provided, "The Hulk."

  "Yeah," Ned nodded again. "That one. Before I could say another word Jake pulled that old handgun out of the drawer and waved it around. Meg and Charlotte dived for the floor and I went for the gun."

  If what the old man said was true, DJ hoped the fact Ned was still standing in one piece and not sprawled along the feed store floor in small bits meant no one would be carried out in a body bag today.

  "He fired into the ceiling."

  "On purpose?" DJ asked.

  "Sure looked like it. He yelled for everyone to get out. I waited for the girls by the door. Next thing I knew Jake shoved me outside and pushed them back before locking the door behind me. Didn't have no cell phone. Ran back to the shop and called you."

  As if on cue Polly from the Cut and Curl came running over. Just what DJ needed, the whole town popping by for a visit.

  "I called as soon as I heard the gun shot. Didn't want to believe that's what it was, but I could see Jake waving that thing around."

  DJ looked from the feed store to the Cut and Curl all the way across Main Street. "You saw him?"

  The petite woman blushed and blinked. "I may have been using the binoculars we keep under the register."

  When DJ had more time, he'd give that tidbit of information some thought. "What else did you see?"

  "Jake moved Meg and Charlotte to the back wall. They're on the floor huddled side by side. Jake's been pacing ever since."

  "Did you hear anything he said?"

  Polly straightened and frowned. "I said binoculars, not microphone. What kind of a neighbor do you think I am?"

  Another question for another day. "Okay, thanks. You go on back to your shop and stay indoors."

  She nibbled on her lower lip and shook her head. "Never thought I'd see anything like this in my lifetime. Not in Tuckers Bluff."

  Neither the hell had he. Just then Adam's truck came barreling down the street.

  "Reed, radio Esther. I want you and her to barricade the street. No one else, except Brooks, comes anywhere near here. You got that?"

  Reed barely gave a nod, before setting off at a trot.

  "Is she okay?" The big quad cab had barely come to a stop when Adam tumbled out of it and rushed at DJ.

  "Hold on there." DJ stuck his arm straight out. "Take a deep breath. They're fine." He wasn't going to say so far out loud.

  "Is it true? Does Jake have a gun on them?" Adam was a strong man. As strong as they came, but the worry in his eyes seemed enough to break him.

  "We haven't confirmed it, but it seems likely." DJ nudged his brother aside. "I know this is hard, but I need you to stay out of the way. This isn't like last time."

  "No." Adam frowned at his brother's reference to Meg and her ex. "This time Meg doesn't have a secret weapon."

  "That we know of. She's a smart woman. Trust her." DJ shifted his weight. "And me."

  Staring at him a little longer, Adam let his gaze lift to the large feed store window and then slowly settle back on DJ. "Don't let anything happen to her."

  All DJ could do was nod. Losing anyone wasn't on his agenda for the day.

  ***

  The old saying “Telegraph, telephone, and tell-a-woman” apparently was alive and well and living in West Texas. Word of Jake going postal was spreading through Tuckers Bluff like fire in a hayfield. According to snowballing gossip, the hostages ranged from a few to dozens and the weapons varied from a single police issue handgun to an arsenal of rapid fire assault weapons and anything and everything in between.

  The only thing Becky knew for sure to be true was that Meg and Charlotte were inside the feed store and things had to be pretty damn serious for all the surrounding shops along Main Street to be evacuated. For as long as Becky could remember, two officers and a dispatcher always worked the day shifts and one officer worked the quiet graveyard shift alone. Knowing that at least one of the off duty officers had been called in to help made this whole thing feel like a TV crime show, not real life in Tuckers Bluff.

  The surreal situation probably explained why most of the displaced shopkeepers and other neighbors had found their way to the Silver Spurs.

  Without Adam to tend to the patients the clinic had shut down early. No one could concentrate on work and eventually they'd all come to the café to wait the crisis out as well, even Becky.

  "How long has it been?" Kelly asked, stirring a teaspoon of sugar into another cup of coffee.

  "Almost an hour and if you don't stop chugging that liquid caffeine, we're going to be peeling you off the ceiling long before this is over." Abbie waved a finger at the full coffee mug.

  Pacing with the baby, Becky had been able to keep her nerves at bay. Sort of. The truth was, she was worried sick about everyone. The image of Adam's stricken face as he literally ran out of the clinic tore at her heart. She didn't want to think what Meg and Charlotte must be going through, held hostage by a crazy man, or what that crazy man might do to them and the police gathered outside.

  Last night, she'd seen a new side to DJ. Another dimension to a man she'd thought rather serious. Words like sweet and tender came to mind and she didn't like how those fit with bullets flying. For almost an hour, DJ had been dialoging with Jake Thomas. Word on the street was that the state police had been called in and any minute now the town would be swarming with all sorts of police and federal agencies. Others insisted DJ had been some kind of super-SWAT-special-forces-star-spangled-cop and didn't need anyone's help to talk Jake out of the mess he'd gotten himself into. Truthfully, Becky had no idea where reality came into play. She'd followed Ethan's career, not DJ's, but hoped to God that star-spangled-super-cop was the first line o
n his resume.

  "Do you think it's true?" Pat asked, her gaze trained down the road to the police barricade.

  "What?" Becky said.

  "That DJ has done this before?"

  Kelly shook her head. "All Grace ever said about Dallas was that he'd made detective. I'd think if he'd been in hostage negotiations she would have said something. I mean, that sounds sort of cool to a baby sister."

  "From where I stand, it sounds pretty damn frightening." Abbie exchanged the mostly full water glasses on the table for fresh ones. No one in the place was eating and Becky suspected the café owner needed to keep herself busy.

  "I wouldn't be surprised if he was." The words were out of Becky's mouth before she'd given them much thought. She remembered back when DJ had made Detective in Dallas, that Grace had bragged he'd moved up the ranks pretty damn fast. Becky also remembered something being said about opportunities coming more easily for former military. Another time, she'd overheard snippets of a conversation between her boss and his brother. She wasn't sure if DJ had been talking in generalities or if he'd been having a problem of his own, but he'd said that lots of good men resented the crap out of being passed over for the coveted detective spots. The words had never been said, but she'd gotten the impression that whatever DJ had done in the marines had more than qualified him for whatever promotions the Dallas police department doled out. "I think he can do it."

  "I know he can," Abbie mumbled softly.

  The bell over the front door jingled and all heads turned to see Sean Farraday stride inside with the youngest Farraday son and Aunt Eileen at his side. "I don't know what you expected," the older woman said.

  "He's not doing anyone any good pacing like a panther on the prowl." Sean hung his hat on the nearest hook and glanced about until his gaze landed on Abbie. "DJ wants some sandwiches for Jake and the girls."

  "Coming right up." Abbie turned toward the kitchen. "One order—"

  "I heard," Frank shouted from the kitchen, "though it chafes my butt to give that ass…man anything." His gruff voice dropped as he continued to mumble, "If DJ thinks a sandwich will put Jake back in his right mind, I'll slice and butter every loaf of bread in Tuckers Bluff."

  Eileen put a hand on Sean Farraday's forearm. "See if you can't get Adam to eat a little something too. This could be a very long day."

  Staring a long while at his sister-in-law, the patriarch of the Farraday clan barely nodded before Eileen spotted Becky and headed straight for her.

  "So this is the mystery baby?" Softly patting her hands in front of Brittany, Aunt Eileen smiled and cooed in complete contrast to her grave conversation of moments ago.

  Becky had to wonder what the woman would do if she knew who Brittany's daddy was. Or might be.

  Chapter Nine

  "You still doing okay in there?" DJ asked again. His mouth had run dry from talking.

  "Why do you care?" The recent sadness in Jake's voice indicated the situation had shifted. The rash anger that had filled the man’s earlier responses was gone. Jake seemed on a slow train back to sanity.

  Unable to see the happenings inside since Jake lowered the shades on the glass doors, DJ had to determine everything from Jake's tone. And right about now, he sounded more tired than anything else. "Just want to help. It's been a long day. You must be tired."

  "Of course I'm tired," Jake snapped. "Can't you leave us alone?" Something had shifted and not for the better.

  DJ had heard the sound of desperation teetering on exhaustion before when reality began to set in. He needed to shift gears. A new approach. "You love your wife, don't you?"

  "Of course I do." The weariness was back.

  Good. DJ could work with tired. Desperate was a whole hell of a lot more dangerous.

  "Charlotte's the best thing that ever happened to me," Jake added.

  "I'm thinking she feels the same way about you?" Lord knows neither he nor Brooks could convince her to leave Jake, not even for her own safety.

  "Yeah, she loved me."

  Jake's use of past tense sounded another alarm. Damn. Had he shifted the conversation in the wrong direction? DJ was too close to this. Meg was like a sister. Losing her would destroy Adam. Damn it, no. He couldn't afford to let his mind go there. Couldn't second-guess himself. He had no choice but to follow his instincts. "I've never had anyone to love. My brothers have. Adam loves Meg the way you love Charlotte." He sucked in a breath and waited, willing a positive response. Another beat of silence passed and DJ shifted in place, coming alert like a pedigree on point when the front door creaked open a crack.

  Poised at either side of the building, Reed and Esther drew their guns and DJ held them off, praying neither had an itchy trigger finger.

  The door inched open further and the wind carried voices in his direction. A voice. Meg's voice. "Please," she said once, then twice.

  This time DJ moved forward a step, his hand on the butt of his gun, his heart rate kicking up a notch. Any wrong move could cost Meg her life.

  "Don't make me—" Gunfire muffled Meg's cry as she flew from the open doorway, landing hard on the concrete.

  The door slammed shut behind her and from the corner of his eye, DJ could see Reed holding Adam back. Bolting forward, placing himself between Meg and the door, DJ came to a crouch beside his sister-in-law, scanning for blood. "Are you okay?"

  Already pushing to her feet, Meg pulled away. "Charlotte—"

  Grabbing hold of her arm and practically lifting her off the sidewalk, he raced to where Brooks and Adam hovered at the edge of the building. "Are you hit?" He was pretty sure Jake had fired into the air again, but he had to make sure.

  Shaking her head, she blinked back tears. "No. I'm fine."

  Time was running out. He knew it as sure as he knew his name was Declan James Farraday.

  Adam broke past Reed and nearly scooped his wife off the ground and into his arms.

  DJ tapped her shoulder. "Meg, I'm sorry, but I need some answers. Now."

  She pulled away from Adam and shooed away Brooks, who'd grabbed her wrist and starting playing doctor. "Oh, God, DJ. He's crazy. I've never seen anyone go so totally ballistic in my life. Not even…"

  "It's okay. How many guns does he have?"

  "I think just the one."

  "You think."

  She nodded. "Just the one."

  "How many bullets has he fired?"

  "One in the ceiling when he chased Ned out and one just now."

  "Can you tell me anything at all he might have said about what he wants?"

  Her head turned from side to side. "I don't understand. Perfectly normal one minute and then ranting and raving the next. Knocking over displays, throwing huge sacks of seed across the room as if they were lightweight balloons. It was like watching Superman."

  Or the Hulk, he thought.

  Gulping large breaths of air, Meg tightened her hold on her husband's hand. "Right after he told you Charlotte loved him, she told him she still did. Always would. God, how can anyone love a crazy man like that?"

  Adam tucked his wife into his side and squeezing her shoulder, urged her to keep talking.

  "He got quiet after that." She faced DJ. "Then you mentioned Adam and that's when Jake told us to get up. He apologized. Said he hadn't meant to scare me. It was like someone flipped a switch and Mr. Hyde was once again the docile Dr. Jekyll."

  DJ looked over at Brooks. His brother nodded and DJ glanced to the shuttered door.

  "I didn't want to leave her," Meg's voice cracked.

  "You did good." He waved between Meg and Adam. " Both of you go home. You need some rest."

  "No." Meg held her head high. Her stance straight. She stood immovable.

  "Meg," Adam said softly.

  "No. I'm not leaving here until Charlotte is safe."

  Adam shrugged, Brooks lips pressed into a thin line and DJ, like his brothers, knew better than to insist. "Okay, but stay put. Reed doesn't need more work to do."

  "Chief?" Reed shifted clos
er to his side. "Your father brought the food you asked for."

  "Good."

  Reed held out one of two bags. "Abbie sent root beer too. Says it's Jake's favorite."

  "Perfect." DJ nodded.

  "She also sent dessert. Told me to make sure and tell you Jake likes his root beer cold and his pie hot."

  "That's my girl." Everything and anything to soothe the savage beast. Bless Abbie. Her extra contribution to the effort was almost enough to make DJ smile. Strong and smart—two words that described Abbie then and now. He knew too well that he could count on her to stay calm in a crisis.

  Reed, the only other cop on the force who understood DJ's connection to Abbie, nodded.

  Knowing Meg was in good hands and his officers had his back, DJ walked closer to the glass doors. Every little bit of normalcy now could only help. Come on, answer.

  "What now?"

  "I've got some food, Jake. Couple of bottles of root beer too."

  "Root beer?" Jake's voice barely carried any strength.

  "Two bottles."

  Silence.

  "They're nice and cold. Just put the gun down and I'll bring them in."

  "No. You're trying to trick me."

  "Not at all. Tell you what. Keep the gun, let Charlotte come out. I bet she's tired too. Probably wants to go home. Rest in her own bed."

  "She stays with me. She promised."

  "Okay. A wife should be by a man's side. I understand that. How about I put my gun down, then I'll bring in the food and drink and we can talk."

  He heard Jake's voice low and quiet asking Charlotte if she was hungry. The depth of a woman's devotion to her abuser always seemed to surprise him. The phone must have been on speaker because Charlotte's response that he needed to eat too sounded through the phone loud and clear.

  "Just my wife and me. Leave the food by the door. We'll be finished soon."

  "Okay." DJ nodded at Reed and Esther. Each moved forward from their current positions. Lord how he wished to God that Jake was talking about the food, but he knew he'd just about run out of time. He placed the bags an arm’s reach away from the door and repositioned himself where he'd been before. Taking in another deep breath, he drew his weapon and spoke into the phone. "Food’s by the door. Root beer too. I've stepped away. It's all yours."