So he closed his eyes and willed everything inside him to slow, to still.
It was her voice that had his eyes opening again, had them burning toward the TV.
"Stuart Brinker surrendered peacefully. His wife and their children weren't harmed."
"Lieutenant MacNamara, as hostage negotiator, how did you convince Professor Brinker to surrender to the police?"
"I listened."
The glass flew across the room, shattered against the set before he realized it had left his hand. Amber rain dripped down over Phoebe's face.
Have to work on that, he told himself. Have to work on that control. Won't get the job done flying off the handle. No sir. But he smiled as the rivulets of tea slid down Phoebe's face. He imagined them red, long thin rivers of blood.
Because it pleased him, he was able to pick up his tools again with a steady hand.
He went back to work on the timer.
"It got to me. Some of them do, more than others."
After shift, Phoebe sat with Liz over a couple of glasses of wine in Swifty's. It was too early for music, so the booth was a quiet corner, an island to sink into and unwind.
"How so?"
Phoebe started to speak, then shook her head. "I didn't mean to talk shop. We should talk shoes or something."
"I bought this pair a couple weeks ago? Pumps, leopard-skin design.
I don't know what I was thinking. Where am I going to wear leopardskin pumps? Anyway, we'll get to that. Tell me about the incident. I know how it is," Liz went on. "I talk to a lot of rape victims, to a lot of kids who've been sexually abused. And sometimes it gets to you more than others. You get it out, or it roots. So?"
"The kids. You have to try not to think about them as kids. Just hostages. But…"
"They're kids."
"Yeah. And in this case, part of the key to talking him down. He loved them. You could hear it."
"And the question is, how do you hold what you love at gunpoint?"
"Because you're broken. Something was broken inside him. He wasn't mad, there wasn't any rage in him. It wasn't payback or punishment. It can be more volatile when it's not about payback. Maybe that's part of what got to me, too. I hear this guy, I hear him standing on the edge of an abyss. And he doesn't believe he can come back from it-that he deserves to."
"Why take the family, too?"
"He's nothing without them. They're essential to who he is. He doesn't want to die without them. So…" She lifted her wine. "Altogether now." She drank, blew out a breath. "He's been depressed for more than a year, and things have been slipping away from him. Career, marriage, both on pretty shaky ground. Wife wants a bigger house, oldest daughter wants a car of her own, he gets thumbs-down on the full professorship. Stuff you handle or fight about. But he just sank down, and kept sinking. The wife's so busy taking care of the kids and the house because he's barely able to get out of bed. She gets fed up, kicks him out. 'Things fall apart; the center cannot hold.' He couldn't hold it."
"You gave them a chance to try again."
"Yeah. Well. Nobody died. You listen good."
"Part of what we both do is listen." Liz tapped her glass to Phoebe's. "And we'd better be good."
"Did you always want to be a cop?"
"I wanted to be a rock-and-roll star."
"Who didn't?"
Liz laughed. "I was actually in a band for a couple of years when I was in college."
"No kidding? What did you do?"
"I got pipes, sister." Liz wagged her thumb at her throat. "And I was crazy in love with the lead guitar. We had plans. The kind you make at twenty and aren't ever going anywhere. Big, splashy plans. Which we made when we weren't screwing like bunnies."
"College." Phoebe sighed. "Those were the days. What happened to Lead Guitar?"
"He dumped me. No, that's not fair, or accurate. He backed away, rapidly. I got raped."
"I'm sorry."
"My turn to make the beer run. There was a place just a couple blocks from where we were living. Party time, all the time. You know?"
"Yeah, I know."
"I was in the parking lot when they jumped me. Two of them, laughing like loons. Seriously high. They dragged me into the back of a van, took turns with me while a third one drove. Then they switched off so he could have a go. I don't know how many times, because I zoned out after the first round. Then they just tossed me out on the side of the road. Cruiser picked me up. I was just stumbling along, clothes torn and bloody, in shock, hysterical. The whole ball. And the cops spotted me." She drank to wet her throat. "Well. They got them, all three of them. I paid attention, until I had to go under. I paid attention. I had descriptions, and I made all three of those motherfuckers in lineup. Hardest thing I ever did, to stand there and look at them through that glass. And Lead Guitar? He couldn't handle it. Couldn't look at me, couldn't touch me, couldn't be with me. Too much for his head, he said. I didn't want to be a rock-and-roll star anymore."
"How long they get? The motherfuckers?"
"They're still in." Liz smiled for the first time. "Stupid bastards took me across the state line into South Carolina. Raped me in two states, had coke in the van, all three had sheets, two were on parole. Anyway, I gave up the band and turned to the glamorous world of law enforcement."
"Music's loss, our gain."
"Okay, shop's closed. Tell me about the guy with the great ass. You two an item?"
"We seem to be something, but I'm not sure what." Thoughtfully, Phoebe propped an elbow on the table, nested her chin in her palm. "I'm out of practice. Kid, job, raw spots from failed marriage. He's so damn cute."
"I noticed. How's the sex?"
Phoebe snorted out a surprised laugh. "You get right to it."
"Healthy sex is one of life's great entertainments. Take it from somebody who sees too much of the other kind. But if you don't want to share-"
"Actually." She hadn't made time for a female friend of her own age in too long. Now, Phoebe leaned forward, lowered her voice. "The other n i g h't…"
She gave a condensed version of her visit to Duncan's house.
"He stopped? You're about to go for the gold right out on the veranda-which, let me insert, is very sexy-and he stops?"
"Thirty seconds more, that's all it would've taken." Phoebe did a test roll of her bad shoulder. "If I hadn't moved the wrong way… what?"
"Romantic and sexy. I mean, God, how many guys are going to shut it down at that point?"
"I'm going to need a note from my sister-in-law to close the deal. Private duty nurse."
"Can I have him when you're done? No, seriously, Phoebe, when you two get that next thirty seconds, it's going to be memorable."
"I'm thinking. Listen, I've got to get home. My kid. But the next time, we'll explore your sex life."
"At the moment, we could do that over a bag of peanuts in the break room. Maybe Cute Guy has a friend."
"I'll ask."
"I'm available."
Phoebe got out of the car just as Lorelei Tiffany clipped up with her incredibly silly dog. Tonight's leash was candy pink, to coordinate with
Mrs. Tiffany's ensemble-heels, pillbox hat, waist-cinching jacket and thigh-gripping capris.