"You burn, his asshole son doesn't. No-brainer."
"For him, maybe. I just want to talk to you, Jerry, I just want to find a way out of this. If talking to me face-to-face can help… But you know they want something up front. How many would you give us?" There was a brief hesitation, and in it Phoebe read the lie.
"You in, they're out. That's the deal-if I decide to make it. Keep your eyes on the ground like I told you!"
"Sorry, what?"
"Not talking to you."
"I was just… hold on, hang on, they're bringing me something." She clicked the phone to mute it, and prayed she was right in going with her gut.
"He's not going to let any of them out, even if you could make the deal. You're tired," Sykes continued, "maybe you can't hear-"
"No, I can. I can hear it. Tell them to move on the rear, but not until I signal. To move in, front and back, but not until I give the go.
You're right," she told Sykes. "He's not going to let any of them out for this. But if I can move him far enough away from the detonator, they can take him-maybe take him alive. Go in, front and back, they can take him. On my say."
"What are you doing?" Duncan demanded.
"Taking a chance. Jerry? Sorry, Jerry, you know how it gets. Jerry, I've got her diary. I have Angela's diary."
"You lying bitch, she didn't have a diary."
"I'm not lying, Jerry. You know I have to be able to back up what
I say. She was a woman in love, and she couldn't tell anyone who you were, or the way things really were between you. So she wrote it down. That bastard Brentine didn't tell us about it, just like he didn't tell us she was wearing your ring when she died. Had to save his pride and reputation. They got a warrant, and they found it. She called you Lancelot."
She heard his choked breath. "Read it to me. Read it, so I know you're not lying."
Phoebe flipped through her notes so it sounded like flipping pages, and pulled out the information she had on Angela. "You gave her pink roses-they were her favorite. She's got a pink rose pressed in the pages here. She loved when you cooked for her, loved to watch you."
"Read it. I want her words."
"Tit for tat, Jerry. I want to give you her words, but you have to give me something."
"Read a page, and if I know it's her words, I'll let a hostage go."
There, she heard truth. "Let five hostages go, I'll read a page. She wanted to build Camelot with you. Let five go and I'll read it. Let them all go, and I'll find a way to bring it in with me and you can read it yourself."
"You bring it out where I can see it. Nobody goes out until I know you've got it."
"You want me to bring it out? I can try to work that. If I bring it where you can see it, what will you give me?"
"Three of them. Bring it."
"Three hostages go out if I bring her diary where you can see it? Is that right?"
"Now!"
"Let me clear it. I'm going to start down there with it, and try to clear it on the way. I'll have to call you back on my cell. Is that all right?"
"Do it now."
"I'm on my way."
She shoved up, grabbed her cell phone. "Somebody get me something that looks like a diary, a journal. Nothing too big. I want you patched in," she told Sykes. "When I say: It's all 1 can do, Jerry, that's the go. Exactly those words, Bull. I won't say them if there's another way, if I believe we can talk him down or take him alive."
"This do?" Duncan offered her a fancy address book with an embossed red leather cover he'd grabbed off a display.
"Perfect, unless she hated red."
"How did you know he'd go for this?" Duncan asked her.
"It's personal, intimate. Something that was hers. Her speaking to him, and something he hadn't factored in. He'll trade for it, there's a good chance he'll trade for it. I need to coordinate with the commander."
"I'm going with you as far as I can go," Duncan added. "What's to stop him from just shooting you the minute you're in view?"
"He wants the book. More, if he gets a bead on me, they'll have one on him. He shows a weapon, they'll end it. He's distracted, people are moving around. He hasn't stopped the bathroom break. He's off his stride now, churned up, and he's made a mistake. We have to capitalize on it. Commander, I can move him away from the detonator."
She explained her plan, shrugged into the vest someone passed her. "Once he's away, I'll keep him there, or, if I'm lucky, bring him closer to the display window. When the rear door's clear-"
"We'll take it from there. You move any closer than I've cleared, it's over, we sweep you out."
"Understood." She turned to Duncan. "You can't come with me."
"You'd better damn right come back to me." He gripped her hand. "Not negotiable."
"Deal." Her fingers tightened on his, and in his eyes she saw both his fear and his faith. "I love you," she said, then walked away.
He might take the shot, she knew, if he was quick enough, smart enough. Odds were against it, but she hadn't been completely truthful. She ordered herself not to look back, because Duncan might see the lie in her eyes, and the fear with it.
His mother, she thought, his sister. His lover. What happened in the next few minutes would determine if any, or all, of them came back to him.
She pulled out her cell, called Jerry.
"I'm heading down now. You need to get the hostages ready. Three hostages, Jerry, that was the deal."
"I know what the damn deal was. I see you, I see it, before anybody gets out."
"You see me, but you won't see Angela's diary until three people are out. You have to work with me, Jerry. You'll still have fourteen. You didn't know how many people would be in there when you planned this. There might only have been fourteen to begin with. You're not losing anything, and you're proving to me you keep a deal. I show it to you for three, and I'll read you a page for three more. Then we'll talk about the trade. That's a fair deal, Jerry."
Lies, she thought, she was full of lies now. Did he hear them? If she failed, could she live with it? Could Duncan?
She heard the chatter through her earpiece. The rear rig was boobytrapped and set with an alarm. It would take time she wasn't sure she had to bypass and defuse.
Work with what you've got, she reminded herself.
"Tactical needs to see the three hostages, Jerry. They've got me blocked; they won't let me through until they seem them." Movement. Three females… moving toward the front.
She got the nod, stepped out from cover. In the swampy heat, her flesh goosebumped with ice. "I'm here, Jerry. First part of the deal. Now your part. Let them go."
"I don't see you."
"If I come any closer, Tactical's going to swarm me and push me back. I'm at the southwest of the building. I can see the display window, and make out one-no, two people standing just to the right of it."
"Stupid to wear a vest, Phoebe, when I'd put one in your head."
The awful amusement in his voice stripped all the moisture from her throat. "I know, but rules are rules. Let them out, Jerry."
"I want to see the diary."
She kept her hand behind her back. "I kept my word, time to keep yours. Then it'll be my turn again."
The locks clicked, the door flew open. People ran or stumbled out, weeping, shouting, "Don't shoot!" Cops in body armor rushed to pull and drag them to cover.
Out of the corner of her eye, Phoebe saw Ma Bee, and sent up a quick prayer of thanks.
Duncan's mother was safe.
"My girl's still in there," Ma shouted. "He's hiding behind her, hiding behind the others. He's got the detonators. He's got two of them." The prayer died in her throat. She watched a wild-eyed woman come forward and shut the door again.