3

“Ask ’em.”

“What?” Kit cocked her head in a listening way. Sweat trickled down the middle of her back. She’d slipped the vest off after an hour. If she’d left it on, she’d have passed out from heatstroke by now.

“Ask them what they’ll do for me.”

“Sure, I can do that. Who do you want me to ask?”

“The . . . the DA. Yeah. Get the DA here. I wanna talk to him.”

Kit pulled out her phone, then paused. “I’ll do this, Virgil, but you know they’re going to want something from you first.”

“What? What do they want?”

He reached back to take a swig from the water bottle behind him. The case of water had bought the freedom of little two-year-old Jessie. Kit refused to drink more than a sip every so often. No bathroom breaks allowed on this job.

Kit motioned toward Melanie. “Let her go.”

For a fraction of a second, she thought he might refuse. She even saw his lips begin to form the word. Then Anne stood, her long blonde hair stringing down her face, sticking to the dried tears on her cheeks.

“Let her go, Virgil. You’re right. I shouldn’t have said I’d leave you.”

Not caring where the woman’s backbone finally came from, just glad it had appeared, Kit nodded. As long as the woman said the right thing, she’d let her talk.

Anne stepped forward. “Let Melanie go outside and the three of us will talk. We’ll straighten this out and I’ll tell them it was all just a misunderstanding, okay?”

Virgil shifted, his eyes darting back and forth between his wife and Kit. Kit kept an encouraging expression on her face and an eye on the gun. He still held it steady even as he studied Anne’s face. Melanie gently pulled away from her father. Virgil didn’t let her go completely, but he no longer looked like he was pulling the girl’s hair out by the roots.

Anne held out a hand. “Come on, Virg, let her go. She’s not a part of this. I’m to blame, not her.”

In one frantic move, Virgil shoved Melanie into Kit’s arms and grabbed his wife’s wrist to pull her to him. “Get her out. I never wanted to hurt the kids in the first place.”

Kit took Melanie by the hand and picked up the cell phone. Virgil didn’t know about the piece in her ear and she preferred to keep it that way for now. She pressed the number for her boss. He picked it up before the first ring ended. “You got a hostage coming out?”

“Word travels fast. Virgil has agreed to let Melanie go.”

“Tell her to run as soon as she hits the porch. We’ll have someone meet her.”

Kit opened the door and sunlight streamed in through the crack. She took a deep breath of the fresh humid air and felt fortified. Melanie hesitated on the doorstep and took one last look back at her parents. Her father held her mother in the same position he once held Melanie, his hand tangled in the woman’s long hair. Anne blinked back tears of pain but said nothing.

Melanie met her father’s eyes and opened her mouth for one last plea. “Please, Daddy,” she whispered.

“Get out of here, girl.”

Kit pushed her on out the door. Keeping one eye on Virgil, she watched Melanie race down the steps of the porch and across the gravel drive. One of the SWAT members grabbed her and hauled her behind a protective barricade. They would make sure she was physically unharmed, then pump her for any information she could give about her father. Kit’s second would send the information into her ear.

Kit turned back to Virgil and Anne. Now, it was time to get serious.

“You think she’s going to be able to talk him down?” Noah asked.

Chad reached around Charlie to grab his water bottle. “She’s got a good track record. One of the best I’ve seen. If anyone can do it, she can.” He studied the conversation being typed out by Charlie.

Noah lifted a brow at that. “Really?”

“Yeah, hadn’t you heard?”

“No, I missed that tidbit.”

“Talked a guy into letting his wife and son go her second day on the job as a rookie street cop.”

“What? Where was the negotiator?”

“On his way. Kit got there first on the domestic disturbance call—realized the guy was escalating and took charge. When the negotiator finally got there, the hostage taker wouldn’t talk to anyone but Kit. She handled it like a pro and it all ended peacefully.”

Noah pondered this as he listened to the silence coming from the house. What was she doing now?

The cell phone next to the computer rang. Chad pressed a button and Kit’s voice filled the van. “I need the DA on the phone.”

“What?”

“The district attorney, folks. Get me the DA, please.” A pause. Virgil mumbled something, but Noah missed it. Then Kit. “Virgil’s ready to cut a deal, but he wants some answers.”

Noah’s lip curled. “Just what kind of answers does this guy think he’s going to get?”

Chad ignored him as he dialed the number that would put him through to the district attorney’s office. Within two minutes, he had District Attorney Stephen Wells on the other line. Chad’s rapid-fire explanation brought the man up-to-date on the situation.

His voice filled the van as he promised to be there within ten minutes. “Although, we can’t make a habit out of this. I can’t start showing up and cutting deals for everyone who decides to take a hostage.”

“Yes sir, we realize that. Nobody’s ever asked for you before. But, I’ll just warn you that the media is here covering this, so if you’d rather not . . .”

A pause.

“No, I’ll come.”

Chad hung up and connected back to Kit. Noah marveled at the man’s proficiency. A professional through and through. A man Noah wouldn’t mind calling partner.

Not bothering to dwell on what he couldn’t change, he listened to Kit soothe the still agitated man. Watched her on the large screen in the corner. Someone had managed to slide a camera through a vent for video feed. Her blonde curls looked dark and were plastered to her head. Sweat stood out across her forehead. He watched her rub her cheek on a shoulder as Virgil hauled his wife by the hair to the kitchen.

Kit stayed put, talking softly.

A knock on the door brought Chad’s attention around even as Charlie’s fingers flew over the keyboard, recording everything said between Kit and Virgil.

Stephen Wells stepped inside followed by a young man in his early to midtwenties. A clean-cut fellow, his eyes took in the van and the occupants.

The DA was a smooth-looking man, who no doubt would end up in Congress before too long. From what Noah knew, Stephen also seemed to genuinely care about the little people, the underdog.

“All right,” he said, “tell me what to do.”

Noah offered a hand. “Hey Stephen, thanks for coming out.”

Stephen shook it. “No problem.” He gestured toward the other man. “This is Edward Richmond, my intern.” Noah shook Edward’s hand and the young man gave him a slight smile. “A brilliant kid who gets to follow me all over for the next few weeks. Now, let’s get those women out of there and Virgil behind bars.”

Noah looked Stephen in the eye. “Are you prepared to say what it takes to make that happen?”

“You bet.”

Edward slipped to the side. “I’ll just hang out over here out of the way.”

Noah nodded his appreciation.

Chad went to work, filling the DA in on every detail he considered important while his fingers flew expertly over the gadgets in front of him. After about a minute, he said, “Okay, I’m putting you through now. I’ve got you hooked up. Our guy with the gun will only be able to hear you. I’ll be right here coaching you in what to say if you need it. Offer him respect, understanding, compassion—even if you don’t feel it. Can you do that?”

“Yes.” A short nod accompanied the word.

“And you feel comfortable using the information I just shared? You remember everything?”

“Yes.” The man drew in a deep breath and looked as though he were mentally preparing for battle.

“If you have a question about a name or something, lift your right finger and I’ll switch screens and bring it up for you to read.”

“I’ve got it.” A hint of impatience.

“Great. Now, this is the line you’ll use to communicate with Virgil. Can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear.”

“All right, you’re through.”

Stephen cleared his throat, then said, “This is District Attorney Stephen Wells, Mr. Mann. How can I help you, sir?”

Chad looked at Noah and gave a thumbs-up for the DA. Respect all the way.

Noah’s stomach curled at the DA’s conciliatory tone, and he suppressed the desire to rush the house and take care of it his way. Beating the guy to a pulp would be so satisfying. But like always, he called on years of self-control and forced himself to be still, to listen.

Forty-five minutes later, with assurances of the best deal he could do for the man, Virgil’s wife burst from the door. A SWAT member grabbed her in the same manner he’d done the daughter and pulled her to safety.

The family was out.

Now it was just the man with the gun—and Kit.

Noah prayed she was as good as Chad and Charlie seemed to think she was.

Kit stared at Virgil. Feeling a little light-headed from the heat, she blinked hard. Sweat poured from Virgil’s brow and he gulped heaving gasps of air. The gun wavered.

“Clear shot, Kit,” came the voice in her ear.

A tap on her leg told the shooter “No.”

“All ready, Virgil?” she asked. Please be ready, she pleaded silently.

“You sure you trust that DA dude?”

“I’m sure. You fulfilled your part of the deal, he’ll keep his, I promise. Now, lay the gun down.”

Virgil’s eyes twitched, his hand trembled. He was tired. “I . . . I don’t know. I don’t know if I can go to jail again.”

Kit’s stomach twisted. “Virgil, we had a deal. Have I broken any promises I’ve made to you today?”

“No. No, you haven’t. But not all cops are like you. What if they lied?”

“Nobody lied to you, Virgil. Now put the gun on the floor, okay?”

“I can’t. I don’t . . . What if . . .” Again his Adam’s apple bobbed, but the gun lowered. Sweat dripped into his eye and he lifted his gun hand.

Bright red blossomed from the center of his forehead.

As though in slow motion, Kit watched his eyes flutter in surprise, swore she saw a flash of wounded betrayal, then they blanked as he dropped to the floor.