“Dude, you still there?”
“Sorry. Look, it’s probably nothing. Just give me a heads up if he shows.”
“Will do. Agent XXL out.” Tony smiled and closed the phone.
Sue Ellen was leaning against the wall just inside the arch of the hallway, watching him. She was wearing one of his dress shirts, her arms folded across her chest, holding it mostly closed. “Important?”
Tony didn’t allow himself to look at Sue Ellen while he sorted through the last of his questions.
“Probably not,” he said after he’d worked the last bits through and tucked them into bed for the night. “In any case, I’ve got protection duty.” He grinned at her. She turned and headed for the bedroom, laughing softly.
The call came in at 8:15 the next morning. Ray had left word with all of the watch commanders and the communications supervisor to page him if anything came in regarding the Hewes’ address. A silent alarm had just been posted and a unit had been dispatched. Ray and Tony dashed toward the stairs, jackets in hand.
Ray drove, using full siren and lights to bully the traffic aside until they were close to the house. A squad car was parked out front, lights flashing. A uniformed cop was standing at the front of the car talking into his shoulder mic.
“What have you got?” Ray grabbed Tony’s sleeve to stop him from going up to the house while he talked to the patrolman.
“Got no answer when I rang the front bell. I don’t think it’s working. I was just about to knock on the side door. When I looked in I saw a guy with a knife and a woman sitting on the floor, backed up against some cabinets. The woman saw me. I don’t think the guy did. I just radioed for backup.”
Ray and Tony shared a hard look, both knowing the man would prove to be Sean Stuckey.
“Tell ’em to come in quiet. We might know who this guy is. I don’t want him freaked.” The patrol cop nodded and walked away, talking urgently into the radio.
“Stuckey. He got a call last night. David said it pissed him off.”
“Karen Hewes?” Ray’s face was a study in worry lines and hard set. Questions raced through his mind. Could they have anticipated this? Should they have anticipated it? The video? Karen’s denial of knowing Stuckey? It was a disturbing set of events, but until they had the chance to interview them again, to confront their lies, there wasn’t anything more they could have done. It hadn’t felt that urgent.
“There’s no way we could have seen this coming.” It was as if Tony read his partner’s thoughts. “We were minutes from coming over here to front the woman.”
“I know, damn it.”
Tony grasped Ray’s shoulder. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” Tony looked from his partner to the house and back to Ray’s determined face.
“The Fredrickson woman.”
“And the knife.”
Ray looked up at the house, but what he saw was a vision of Deanna Fredrickson crumpled and bloody, a knife stuck in her chest, and the surprised look in her sightless eyes.
“How do you want to do it?” Tony asked. He took out his Glock and chambered a round.
Ray placed a hand on Tony’s arm. “Without gun play, if possible.”
“If possible,” Tony said and nodded.
The patrolman edged next to Ray. “Okay, SWAT’s gearing up. There’s a hostage team en-route and the Watch Captain.”
“I’m a certified negotiator,” Ray said. “We know these people. I’m going to go talk to them.”
“You should wait for the Captain.” The young uniformed cop looked concerned. Tony didn’t recognize him.
“But I’m not going to. We’re going in now.” Ray looked up at the sound of distant sirens. “And you…get on the horn and tell them to shut down those sirens. Right now, officer.”
Ray peered into the kitchen through the side door window. Stuckey and Karen Hewes were huddled on the floor, legs splayed, leaning against the cabinets under the sink. He had one arm around her throat, holding her close and a knife in the other hand pressed under her breast.
“Just shut the fuck up!” Ray heard Stuckey say through the closed door. His voice was high and pleading. It looked like Stuckey was crying.
Tony eased the storm door fully open and set the stop. Ray grasped the door knob and twisted it slowly. It was unlocked. Karen Hewes was wide eyed and trembling, but she wasn’t crying. She saw Ray’s face in the window, saw the knob turn, and a mean, thin humorless smile flashed across her face. Ray saw it. It was brief, just a second-two seconds, at most. It was a look that chilled and puzzled him. Then the sneering smile vanished and Karen started calling out, screaming, yelling, struggling against Stuckey’s grip.
“He’s crazy! Help me! Oh God…”
Ray opened the door, pushed it wide and stepped into the kitchen, holding his empty hands out at his side.
“Sean.” Ray moved further inside and to the right. Tony followed. His hands weren’t empty. He held the Glock two-handed, pointed down at the floor, knees flexed.
“Thank God! He attacked me! Do something…” Karen Hewes was frantic, yelling nonstop. “Do something. He’s going to kill me! Do something!”
“Put the knife down, Sean.” Ray gestured with his palm. “This isn’t so bad yet, but put the knife down, Sean.”
“Shut up you freak!” Stuckey tightened his arm, trying to shut the woman up. Tony could see him straining. He brought the gun up. Ray touched Tony’s arm lightly.
“Oh God. He killed her! He’ll kill me too!” Karen keened.
Ray had to shout over her shrieks. “Knife down! We need to talk, Sean.”
“Fuckin’ A we do! Shut her up!” Karen kept wailing and screaming at the top of her lungs. Every time Stuckey started to say something she screamed louder.
“Karen! SHUT UP!” Tony’s eyes snapped wide open. He had no idea his partner had pipes like that. Ray’s voice boomed over and through the woman’s shrieking. “Now get up, both of you. Knife down! Leave the knife on the floor.”
“She called…” Stuckey was trying to talk. Karen thrashed, twisted, and squirmed, the crying and pleading started up again.
“He’s going to kill me. Do something! Shoot him!” She bucked wildly against him, tugging at Stuckey’s arm around her throat, heedless of the knife.
“I’ve got the shot,” Tony said evenly. Stuckey was looking straight into the pistol barrel.
“Wait!” Stuckey jerked the knife from Karen’s breast and tossed it on the floor. His hand free, he cupped it over her mouth and started to stand, struggled to one knee. Karen, gasping, her pleading throttled, trying to bite him.
“I want you to take me in. You have to listen.”
“We’re listening. Now, let the woman go, Sean.” With a mighty effort Sean Stuckey heaved up, dragging Karen with him, still choking her neck, still cupping her mouth.
“Ever since…” Karen twisted. She wrenched her head from side to side. She kicked at him, tried to stomp on his foot. “She’s been…” Karen’s teeth found skin, she bit down hard. Stuckey jerked his bleeding hand free. The keening and wailing returned.
“He wants money!” she shrieked before Stuckey clamped his hand back over her mouth. He looked at Ray, puzzled…confused.
“Money?”
The room detonated in that instant.
Artillery exploded from the dining room doorway-a spear of flame reached halfway across the kitchen. Sean Stuckey’s head burst into a cloud of gristle and bone, gray brain matter and red mist.
Ray watched, deafened, frozen, unbelieving, as Stuckey’s body tilted, hurled toward the gout of blood and brains that erupted from the side of his ruined head. His feet left the ground, arms flailing, already lifeless, useless…already dead. His body landed on its side, bounced once on the hard tile floor, and settled into a death pose.
Karen Hewes still had her voice, wailing just as loudly as before. She collapsed on the floor, writhing in the widening pool of blood surrounding Stuckey’s body, trying to gain traction, desperate to rise.