Authors: Erin Brockovich
“I’m so sorry to disturb you and your family,” she said.
He led the way into a large paneled study where Hunter waited. “No worries. I’m all alone. My wife died eight years ago now.”
The judge took a seat behind the desk. The only other chair in the room was already occupied by Kyle Masterson, leaving her and Hunter standing.
“I’m sure you two appreciate the gravity of this situation,” the judge started. “I’m not sure if you appreciate exactly how tired I’m becoming of this case.”
Hunter spoke up. “Your Honor, we believe Sheriff’s Deputy Tyrone Stillwater may be aiding and abetting Ms. Hardy in preventing my client from exercising the rights you granted him earlier today.”
“That’s a serious charge. What makes you think a sworn officer of the law would be involved in what you have described as a kidnapping, counselor?”
“Boy’s been sweet on AJ since they were kids,” Masterson burst out. They all stared at him, especially the judge.
“Excuse me, Mr. Masterson?”
The judge’s tone managed to penetrate Masterson’s shield of self-involvement. “Er, sorry, your Honor. I tend to call anyone my son’s age ‘boy.’ No disrespect intended, I assure you.”
“I should hope not. Deputy Stillwater’s record is exemplary, and it troubles me that he is not here to answer to these allegations.”
“That’s the whole point. He’s run off with my grandson.”
If they’d been in court, Elizabeth was sure the judge would have banged his gavel. Masterson obviously had the mistaken idea that because he was inside the judge’s home, he could speak candidly.
Hunter put a hand on Masterson’s elbow and whispered something in his ear. Elizabeth watched, enjoying how Masterson was torpedoing his own case.
“Where is Deputy Stillwater?” the judge asked.
Elizabeth answered. “I spoke to his mother, your Honor. Apparently it’s Deputy Stillwater’s weekend off. She said that to the best of her knowledge, her son had gone on a fishing trip.”
The judge nodded. “So no one has been able to reach him to verify that he has the child in question?”
“No, your Honor,” Hunter admitted, his grip on Masterson’s sleeve tightening when Masterson opened his mouth. “But if your Honor would grant a warrant to access the deputy’s GPS on his phone or vehicle—”
The judge frowned. “I’m not going to violate anyone’s rights based on a guess. However, I will issue an order to track his county-issued vehicle’s GPS.”
“What about AJ? Can’t we track her?” Masterson persisted.
“Ms. Hardy.” Elizabeth jerked her head up when the judge called her name. “You’ve been awfully quiet. Any word from your client on when she’ll be returning?”
“The hurricane is hitting that area hard, your Honor. I haven’t been able to reach Ms. Palladino. She doesn’t even know her son is missing.”
“Doesn’t need to,” Masterson muttered. The judge pretended not to hear, but Elizabeth caught it. “She’s arranged all this.”
“This whole thing is a mess. I’ve been told that the police are doing everything in their power to locate him and have issued an Amber Alert.”
Masterson outright scoffed. “They’ll protect their own. C’mon Stephen, just issue a warrant for Stillwater’s arrest. We all know he did it.”
The judge stood. “Mr. Masterson.” Masterson jerked his head up at that, surprised by both the judge’s tone and his formality. “You need to understand the severity of the charges you are bringing against a man who to the best of my knowledge is an exemplary officer of the law. And without any proof, at that.”
“But Stephen—” Hunter nudged Masterson hard. “Er—I mean, your Honor—”
“No
but
s.” It was clear the judge’s patience was at an end.
Hunter turned to stare at a framed photo on the wall beside him. Six Marines in desert camouflage. He bent forward and read the caption below it. “Your Honor, is the Stillwater in this photo related to the deputy in question?”
The judge glared at Hunter, but he was too busy examining the photo to notice. “It’s his older brother. He’s the leader of my youngest grandson’s unit in Afghanistan.”
Hunter straightened, a calculating look on his face. Elizabeth knew that look, knew it well. It was his bold move look.
Do it, she urged silently. Ask the judge to recuse himself. It’s exactly what Hunter would do back in Philly where there were a dozen family court judges to take one’s place. But here in Smithfield County? Implying that a judge couldn’t remain impartial? She doubted that would go over very well.
“Before you say anything, counselor,” the judge faced Hunter head on. “You should know that there have been Stillwaters leading the men of this area to war for generations, so you’ll be hard pressed to find anyone around here who hasn’t had family serve with them.”
Hunter paused, then nodded, heeding the judge’s warning. “I’ll keep your grandson in my thoughts, Judge.”
Disappointment washed over Elizabeth, but she could tell from the judge’s expression that Hunter hadn’t won any points.
“That’s all,” he said, making a shooing motion with his hands. “I’ll see you all in court tomorrow.”
David couldn’t believe that after escaping Mr. Masterson, driving all day and night, fighting a hurricane—well, not quite a hurricane, but the radio said it would be here soon, said no one should be out on the roads—after all that, they’d missed his mom and were now stuck here until the hurricane passed. He didn’t even want to think about his mom out there on the roads, could only hope that she’d gotten enough of a head start that she’d be out of the danger area before Hermes made landfall.
Although, he had to admit, if he was going to be stuck anywhere, being stuck here in a nuclear power plant was pretty darn cool.
Ty didn’t seem to agree. Instead he wore that worried face that he usually tried to hide. The same one he got whenever Mom was in trouble.
David helped him feed and water Nikki and then, while Ty let the younger kids who were scared of the storm pet Nikki, he went to ask some of the folks who worked at Colleton Landing about their jobs.
He’d just finished talking to a guy about radiation exposures from animals and their contaminated droppings—apparently the plant had had an incident with a radioactive alligator, how cool was that? He wondered if his mom had gotten to see it—when there was a crash from the front of the building.
Ty and Nikki were caught at the back of the room where the kids were gathered, but from where David sat on the steps beside the physicist from the NRC, he saw Ty tense. The parents with the kids shepherded them back into the corner while Ty and Nikki made their way to the front of the building. They’d just taken up a position behind one of the steel pillars when the doors burst open.
David looked over. His stomach catapulted past his toes as his body went numb with shock.
It was his mom. And there was a strange man with her. Holding a shotgun to her back.
THIRTY
Paul propelled me toward the plant’s front doors. No one inside seemed to have noticed anything, but it was hard to tell with so many people crowded in the lobby. My doing, I couldn’t help but think. Delivering all these innocent targets into the hands of a madman.
“Paul, you really don’t want to do this,” I tried to reason with him. Hard to do with the muzzle of a shotgun nudging your spine.
“It’s God’s will,” he said. “Nothing I tried worked, but then today He gave me the means to bring forth His glory.” He wagged Morris’s Kermit. “He has anointed me and I shall not disappoint Him. Now, open the door.”
I did as he instructed, and he pushed me inside. The crowd was buzzing with conversation. I raised my hands over my head in the universal sign of surrender. Slowly people began to shut up and back away, their faces confused—like this was some kind of strange, strange joke.
I glanced over the crowd, hoping that if Morris saw Paul with his Kermit he could figure out a way to disable it or block it or something. Even better would be a security guard ready to tackle him—preferably without getting me blown in two.
Instead my eyes came to rest on the one person I most did not want to see.
David.
I pulled up short, my feet unable to move, cemented to the floor with horror. Paul rammed into me. Then someone screamed.
Riotous noise bounced from the steel and glass surrounding us. I pivoted to face Paul. If David was here, there was no way in hell I was going to let this man take one step closer to him. I didn’t care if I had to tackle him myself.
“What are you doing?” he said, a puzzled expression on his face. “You must obey me.”
The sounds of the people around him grew shrill. He waved the shotgun in the air, pulling the trigger. The noise so close to my ears was deafening.
But the next instant was silence. Followed by the sound of buckshot pinging from the glass and steel above us.
Before anyone could blink, a blur of brown appeared to my side. Then Paul was down, pinned to the floor by 110 pounds of pure canine muscle. Ty kicked the shotgun to one side. I was more interested in Morris’s Kermit. Paul’s left hand was closest to me and he still hung on to the small computer.
I threw myself at him, clawing at his fingers. He resisted at first, then relaxed. His face was turned toward me and he smiled. “Too late.”
David pushed himself to his feet and grabbed his crutches. Some security guys came and restrained the man with the gun while the people below pushed back away from the scene. Ty released Nikki and praised her, then Ty and his mom were talking. It must have been something important because his mom’s whole body was bouncing like she needed to go somewhere fast. She glanced up at David once, but her face was angry—although not at him, he hoped. Looked like she was upset with Ty.
David made his way down the steps, not ashamed about using his crutches to push through the crowd. By the time he’d reached the spot where he’d last seen her, she was gone.
Ty and Nikki were following a security guard hauling the man with the gun—now in handcuffs, the shotgun safely in Ty’s hands—into a small room behind the security desk.
“It’s our designated holding area,” the guard was saying, “but we use it as a coat room. Honestly, things around here are always boring, nothing going on. At least not until Ms. Palladino arrived.”
“Yeah, that happens,” Ty said.
The guard left to join his comrades who were now weaving through the crowd, directing people out into the storm. What was up with that?
David went into the room that held Ty and the man. Ty had cleared a spot on the floor where there were no potential weapons the man could reach and sat him there. He stood over him, the shotgun resting in his hands, Nikki at full alert at his side.
“Where’s my mom?” David asked. “What were you two talking about?”
Ty didn’t take his eyes off the prisoner. “David, you need to leave. One of the security guards will give you a ride.”
“I’m not going anywhere without my mom.” David planted his crutches and prepared to make a stand.
The man on the floor smiled like he had just gotten his birthday wish or something. “AJ Palladino is your mother?”
“Yes. What did you do to her?”
“Not me, child. The will of God.”
David wanted to hit the man, kick him in the balls, anything to wipe that smile off his face and get him to tell the truth. Ty lay a heavy hand on his shoulder before David even realized that he’d gathered his body, ready to lunge.
“Shut up,” Ty told the man in a calm voice—so calm that it infuriated David further. Why wasn’t anyone taking this seriously?
“No, I want to hear what happened to my mom,” David insisted.
“No need to worry anymore, child.” The man inhaled deeply, then exhaled and smiled wider. “It’s begun.”
“What?”
“The Rapture.”
“I don’t understand.”
The man looked at David with pity. “You wouldn’t; you haven’t been saved. I’m ready to sit at my father’s right hand. I’m one of the chosen.”
“Chosen to do what?” Ty asked.
“Bring forth Armageddon.”
David inched back, suddenly frightened for more than just his mother’s safety. The man was so certain, so matter of fact. Talking about the end of the world.