Takeover - Lisa Black [100]
He took the precaution of tie-wrapping her hands behind her back. Though this changed very little about the situation—she still could not run without getting shot—it made her feel more vulnerable than she would have believed possible. He also slung the automatic rifle over a shoulder and pulled one of the guards’ handguns from the duffel bag; the pistol pressed easily into her spine. Then he walked her over to the small glass door, still propped open, and positioned them at an angle so that both the wall and her body blocked him from gunfire. He could see out, over her shoulder. A slight turn of his head and he could keep track of the hostages. Then Bobby skittered to the opposite side of the door, mirroring them.
No one appeared in the street outside, only wavering mirages of heat, shimmering up from the asphalt.
Cavanaugh’s book prohibited bringing family members to the scene. Would they have a cop playing Eric’s role? If so, he would never fool the man’s own brother—unless Cavanaugh only intended to get close enough to get a good shot at Bobby. The robber had kept himself out of the snipers’ scopes all day, and this ploy would draw him into the open, with Lucas nearby, and only her body blocking him from a kill shot. She began to tremble.
“What’s the matter, Theresa?”
“I’m scared.”
“Why?”
“I’m afraid they’re going to shoot at you and hit me.”
His left arm slipped around her waist, and his hips and thighs pressed against her rear end. Her bound hands were caught between them, the plastic straps biting into her flesh. He rested his chin on her shoulder, lips next to her ear. “That’s why we’re going to stick together, so close that they won’t even try. You don’t mind, do you? I mean, about me being so close. I don’t expect you to be too happy about facing the snipers.”
Bobby rested his back against the cool marble wall. “You shouldn’t be huggin’ up some other girl.”
They sounded relaxed for two guys about to take on three different police agencies, but she could feel the tension ripple through every muscle in Lucas’s body.
“This isn’t huggin’. This is self-preservation.”
“Call it what you like, brother. I ain’t the one you’re going to be explaining it to.”
From the corner of her eye, she watched the row of hostages, but no one moved. They had nowhere to go anyway—any movement toward the employee lobby would be noisy and immediately obvious, and there was no other way out. Besides, Lucas switched his gaze between them and the street every half a second. She could feel each swipe as his chin brushed her hair.
Bobby held his automatic rifle pointed down, the folding barrel resting against his chest. Tiny glints of deep red speckled the butt. She kept her voice very low. “Is that what you beat Mark Ludlow to death with?”
Lucas’s arm tightened.
Bobby scowled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, lady.”
“He had two types of injuries—a long, rounded indentation, probably from the barrel when you swung the rifle like a bat, and an oval shape just like the flat end of that rifle stock.”
“What are you doing, Theresa?” Lucas asked her, his breath warming her ear.
“I still don’t understand why. Did he tell you about the money shipment? Give you the layout of the building? Obviously he didn’t provide you with any special access, or you wouldn’t have spent the whole day stuck in the lobby. What did he have that you wanted?”
The very ends of Bobby’s mouth turned up, though his eyes remained cool. “That’s a good question, lady. I wish I had a good answer.”
She pondered that opaque response for a split second, getting nowhere. “Or did you screw up and kill him before he could tell you what you needed to know? I saw his body—he didn’t suffer any physical question-and-answer session. Is that why you seem to have been making it up as you went along?”
“That’s where you’re wrong. This day has gone exactly according to plan.”
That did not sound good.
How could Bobby have planned for his brother to be alive? Only if he knew all along that his brother wasn’t really dead—but why the charade? If he wanted to see his brother,