Amber Morn (28 page)

“Tell you what, Kent, I’ll —”

“You’ll tell me nothing, Edwards! Just go get T.J. out of prison! Until the judge can tell me that’s happened, you and I ain’t talkin’
no more
.”

The line clicked in Vince’s ear.

SIXTY-SEVEN

Bailey pressed against the wall, both hands to her mouth. Praying for Angie, praying that Kent would calm down and let an ambulance come. Mitch and Brad stayed close, guns up, expressions dark. Not caring in the least about Angie’s groans.

Kent broke off his call with Vince and smashed down the phone.

No one dared move. On TV, a series of ads flipped back to the female reporter who had read T.J.’s document. “We now have further news about the hostage situation in Kanner Lake…”

Bailey’s gaze pulled from Kent’s purple face to the television. The picture switched to a new scene.
John!
Her eyes widened. John was on the screen.

Beside her, Bev drew a sharp breath and nudged Bailey.

Brad turned to see what they were looking at. His chin came up. “Hey — our house!”

Our house?

Kent swiveled around.

“… A little over an hour ago,” the reporter continued, “this man visited the house of Kent Wicksell, wanting to talk to Kent’s wife, Lenora. We have since learned the identity of the man — John Truitt, husband of Bailey Truitt, owner of Java Joint and one of the hostages…”

Kent and Mitch threw furious glances at Bailey. Her veins iced over.

The footage showed John walking up a broken sidewalk toward a dingy white house with peeling paint. He mounted the steps onto the porch. Knocked on the door. It eventually opened, and he went inside.

The picture cut to John hurrying out of the house, a woman behind him. “And
don’t
come near me again!” she yelled. The door slammed.

Shocked silence stretched out in the café. They watched John head to his car and drive away.

The Wicksells went wild. Mitch whirled on Bailey. “What’d he do to my mother, huh, what’d he
do
?” Brad stormed toward her. Kent shouted a stream of curses and yanked his gun from the table.

Radt-a-tadt-a-tadt-a-tadt-a-tadt.
The TV screen exploded.

The hostages screamed.

Mitch and Brad whipped toward their father. Kent hunched like an enraged grizzly, his feet planted wide and teeth bared.
Radt-a-tadt-a-tadt
. Bullets punched the counter and stools, shattered pastry cabinet glass, riddled the cash register and espresso machine and purses and S-Man’s contracts. Bailey’s ears sizzled. The gunfire and screams blasted and screeched and burst and shrilled until the whole world would surely cave in. Bailey bent low, cringing, hands over her head. The next bullet would be hers.

The shooting stopped.

Shrieks filled the café. Bailey pulled her arms from her head.

“Shut up, all of you,
shut up
!” Kent swung his gun around.

Screams dissolved into gasps and crying. Bev lay crumpled across Bailey’s feet, her legs drawn up and face covered. Was she hit? Bailey bent down, shook her shoulder. Bev pushed to her knees and looked up. No blood to be seen. Bailey reached for her hand.

Mitch and Brad cussed and threatened. Kent stomped across the café floor with his gun, cursing John and every person in Kanner Lake.

The phone rang.

Bailey pulled Bev to her feet, cast wild looks right and left. Was everyone else safe? Hank and Ted had hold of Leslie. Carla hung on to Wilbur, her face streaked with tears. Jared shielded Paige with his body.

Bailey cut her eyes toward Angie, who still lay across the room on the floor, not far from the counter. If anyone had been hit from a ricocheting bullet, it would be her. The phone kept ringing. Kent ignored it.

Angie’s legs were moving. Bailey couldn’t see her face but heard her choked prayer: “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus…”

“What are you trying to do, kill us
all
?” Brad strode to his father and hit his shoulder.

Mitch stormed after Brad. “Leave him alone!”

Kent shoved Brad away. “That man went after
your mother
!”

“So kill his wife and throw her outside! Kill every last one of them, for all I care! But now you’ve busted the TV. And what if you’d shot out the front windows? The cops would pour right in here!”

“You see any windows shot?” Mitch jumped in front of him.

“Maybe we won’t be so
lucky
next time.” Brad’s teeth gritted.

Kent shook his gun at them. “Don’t tell me what to do! Either of you!”

The three men faced off, chests heaving.

Angie’s weeping rose from the floor.

“Shut
up
!” Kent spun around, a thick vein bulged in his forehead. He surged toward Angie, kicking abandoned chairs from his path. “I’ve had
enough
a you!”

Bailey grabbed Bev’s wrist. Terrified groans spilled from the hostages.

Brad and Mitch aimed their guns at the group. “Don’t move!”

Kent grabbed Angie’s arm with his right hand. “Get up.” He yanked hard. Her body bent from the waist like a pulled puppet. “Get
up
!” He wrenched again, and she staggered to her feet, hair disheveled and face without color. Kent sneered. “Shooting’s too
quick
for you. Get out and die in the sun!” He flung a vile name in her face, dragged her forward. “Unlock the door!”

Mitch sprinted over, undid the bolt.

“Open it.” Kent’s teeth clenched as he jerked Angie across the café. Mitch pulled the door back. Instant light and fresh air wafted into the room. Bailey squinted. Kent leapt behind Angie and thrust his hand hard against her back. “Go
die
!”

“Uh!” Her head whiplashed. She staggered, then stumbled over the threshold onto the sidewalk. Sunshine lit up her pink outfit.

Angie collapsed on the pavement.

Mitch slammed the door and bolted it.

“There.”
Kent slumped against it in triumph. “
There.
Hope it’s slow and painful.”

Mitch and Brad exchanged vindictive glances and made their way back to stand guard over the hostages.

The phone rang again. Kent made a face at it, stomped over to click it on, then off. He slammed the receiver on the table.

Nobody moved. The air hung still and choking. Bailey’s wide eyes traveled from Kent to the ruin of her café.
Dear God, help Angie.
Bailey’s ankles trembled, and numbness crept over her body.

“Now.” Kent stalked toward the hostages, gun cradled in both hands, his barrel chest rising and falling.

The phone rang. He stopped in his tracks and swore.

It rang again.

He heaved a sigh. “Okay, Edwards. You wanna keep bugging me? You’re about to be sorry.”

He swung back to the table and picked up the phone.

SIXTY-EIGHT

“Shots fired!” A voice cut through the tac radio.

Vince’s head jerked. He leaned toward the monitor, eyes fixed on Java Joint’s door, looking for signs of bullets. Justin pushed to his feet.

“Still shooting.”

An eternity passed. Vince’s heart beat in his throat.

Dear Lord, please save them.

No movement on the screen.

“Gunfire ceased.”

Vince grabbed his phone and punched on the line. Pressed it to his ear, listening to the rings. Once, twice. A third time, a fourth.

Come on, Kent
…

On the monitor the Java Joint door flung open. A woman clad in pink staggered out to the sidewalk and collapsed.

The door closed.

Vince’s veins chilled. He hunched forward, eyes narrowed, desperate to make an identification.

Pink clothing. Short, grayish-brown hair.
Angie Brendt
.

Had she been shot?

The phone line connected, then went dead.

Vince punched
talk
again.

Angie lay on her stomach, one arm flung out. Vince could see no bloodstain on her back, her head.

The Java Joint phone kept ringing. Vince kept the receiver to his ear as he picked up the tac radio. “Frontal position, one of you called in gunfire?”

“Yes.”

“Second frontal — I heard it too.”

Vince watched the screen. “Can either of you get a visual for any wounds on the woman who just came out?”

A pause. “No wounds, far as I can tell.”

“Ditto for me.”

Vince felt sick. This was it. His negotiations had failed.

But one thing at a time. First, he had to get Angie out of there, whatever her condition. Second, assess the situation inside Java Joint.
If Kent would just pick up the phone!

“Jack.” Vince spoke into the radio. “Can you get some men up there to retrieve the victim? I have reason to believe she may be suffering from a heart attack, so we need to get her out quickly.”

“Understood. Two men are on their way.”

Onscreen, Angie’s stretched-out arm began curling inward. “She’s moving,” Jack said.

They fell silent, watching. The phone rang in Vince’s ear.

Angie rolled to her side. She struggled to her knees, then managed to push to her feet. She stood, swaying, facing up the sidewalk.

Come on, come on, get her out of there.
At least she was conscious and on her feet. The men wouldn’t have to bodily carry her away. Even so, the café door could open any minute. Angie would be cut down in seconds.

The phone line connected.

“Edwards!” Kent seethed. “You
better
be calling to tell me T.J.’s free.”

“I’m calling because I heard reports of gunfire. Everybody all right?”

“Sure, we’re great.”

“No one hurt?”

Kent laughed low in his throat. “The place has seen better days.”

“You mean the café?”

“What you
think
I’m talking about — the Chamber of Commerce?”

“So — no one was shot?”

“Not yet. But soon.”

Vince closed his eyes. “What about Angie?”

“I kicked her out.”

“You kicked her out?”

“Yeah. Got tired of her whining.”

Vince looked back to the monitor. Angie was dragging herself up the sidewalk.

“Listen, Edwards. You pushed me too far with that man going to my house.
My house
!”

“What are you talking about?”

Kent swore. “
Don’t
act like you don’t know!”

“I —”

“Shut up!” Kent’s breathing fumed.

Angie listed to one side. She stepped sideways and slumped against a building.

Come on, Angie, you can make it.

“Now hear me, Big Chief. I’m
tired
of waiting around. And after what you done — I swear, if Lenora’s hurt, I’ll come after you personally and kill you with my bare hands. It’s just past one thirty now. You got
one hour
to get T.J. out of prison and on his way home. If two thirty comes and that ain’t happened, I shoot a hostage. Every half hour after that, I shoot another one.”

Vince kept his voice even. “Less than an hour doesn’t give me much time.”

“Better hurry then.”

“Kent, I don’t have the authority to open the prison cell for T.J. I can put in the request, but I can’t —”

“You got
one hour
. You and I
ain’t
talking until then. And by the way — just to keep myself entertained, I’ve decided to play a little game with the folks in the meantime.
They
get to decide who goes first.”

The line went dead.

PART THREE

Ultimatum

SIXTY-NINE

The two men nearly scared Angie to death. They came out of nowhere, covered in dark gear like those policemen on TV shows. Carrying guns.