Takeover - Lisa Black [58]
“Step down,” the man told Paul. They had reached the curb.
“Keep walking, baby.” She extended her left arm, and their fingertips met in a touch so light she might have imagined it. Her throat closed up. “Just keep walking.”
The older man tugged at his burden, and they continued their shambling gait across the burning street. She listened to their footsteps, and with each one her heart urged him to take one more.
“Now you come in here,” Lucas ordered her from inside the bank. “With my keys.”
“I’m going to turn my head to see that he makes it. That’s all—I won’t move anything else.”
“I can just shoot you, you know.”
“Then I drop the keys.” She turned her head, straining her neck, expecting to feel a bullet rip through her heart with every breath. Frank and two other officers emerged from the library building to help the two men, and her spirit lifted a millimeter to hear a siren on the next block. Someone had thought ahead to call an ambulance; maybe Cavanaugh, or Frank.
Her cousin caught her eye over Paul’s shoulder. Shock there, and anger.
“Okay, he’s gone. Now get in here.”
Part One has ended. Time for Part Two.
The light reflected off the glass doors, blinding her, or perhaps the heat had made her faint. If I run, I won’t make it. If I go in, there’s no reason to assume he’ll kill me. He has plenty of other people to shoot first, and I brought him his car.
Make your decision. Then stick to it.
Slowly, hands still up, she moved toward the door.
Her traitorous body longed for the marble lobby—anything to escape the sun. With its blinding rays blocked from her eyes, she saw him. His skin, the color of caramel, had become shiny with beads of sweat just under the ball cap. He had slender lips and a wiry frame. “You wanted in here awful bad.”
“No,” she corrected him. “I wanted him out of here awful bad.”
He appraised her with light brown eyes. “Hope he was worth it.”
So do I, she found herself thinking. Would Rachael think so? Would her mother?
Up four or five marble steps, she saw the lobby, saw the terrified people cowering in front of the information desk. Saw the pool of red liquid that Paul had left, in a large puddle and then a heavy trail to the door, his living tissue, his lifeblood. The thought of stepping in it…She jumped away with a shudder.
“Give me the keys,” Lucas snapped. “And don’t pass out on me neither.”
She held them out for him to snatch.
He eyed her trousers, the clinging silk blouse. “I’m guessing you’re not hiding anything in there.”
“I’m not a cop. I don’t carry a gun.” The other hostages watched, wide-eyed, except for Brad, who did not look up from Paul’s blood.
“What are you, then?”
“I’m a forensic scientist.”
The lines on his face wrinkled as he broke into a laugh. “A freakin’ scientist. Okay, ma’am, welcome to the club. The hostage club.”
The automatic rifle dipped toward the floor. Her hands began to sink as well.
“However.”
She froze, hands splayed at hip level.
“I obviously screwed up with that guy you just sent out of here, and I’m not big on making the same mistake twice. No excuse for it, my mother used to say. So I’m going to have to pat you down. Be assured I’ll do so with regret as well as the utmost respect.”
She blinked at him.
“That means stand still. Very still, because Bobby over there has you covered. Got it?”
She nodded. Bobby peeked from around the corner, gun at the ready.
He came closer. She could smell aftershave mixed with sweat, as well as a sour, oily smell, perhaps gun lubricant. It felt odd to have a strange man’s hand passing over her body, but he went lightly and quickly and didn’t linger. He took her cell phone and stuffed it into his back pocket.
“Okay. That’s cool. I was lying a little bit, though—I don’t regret it. Now have a seat with the rest of the group over here, and we’ll proceed.”
She headed for Mrs. Ludlow and the little boy. She could not force herself to take Paul’s place, to sit by his blood while it dried to black.
The phone