Takeover - Lisa Black [94]
On the other hand, the sister had listed “wealth” among his aspirations. Perhaps Lucas Parrish was exactly what he appeared to be, a kid blessed with enough smarts to have a dream but not enough to bring it to life. Maybe it really was just the money.
CHAPTER 27
2:58 P.M.
“Detective?”
Peggy Elliott skipped up a few steps to catch him. She carried a textbook that must have weighed seven pounds, easy. “I’ve been reading up on RDX.”
He paused on the landing. “That was quick.”
“I’m a reference librarian. It’s what I do.”
His partner had an appointment with death penciled in, Theresa sat out of reach with a gun to her head, and yet Patrick found himself wondering if Ms. Elliott had a significant other, and if not, how she might react to an offer of coffee or lunch….
Later. “Thanks. Please don’t tell anyone else—I’d get in trouble for discussing an investigation in progress. What did you find?”
“Nothing, unfortunately. There is no way to neutralize it—chemically, I mean. You could always throw it in the lake or blast it into space. Or just pull out the detonator.”
“The lake, huh?”
She nodded. “Then run like hell.”
Patrick returned to the negotiator’s area like a moth to the flame, afraid to look at the television monitor but unable not to. He retook his seat just as Lucas Parrish finally answered the phone at the information desk across the street and said, “Hello, Chris.”
“Thanks for picking up, Lucas. I was getting worried about you.”
“That’s so sweet, Chris. Remind me to drop you a card on your next birthday.”
“I’m glad you have your money, but now we need to work out where you’re going to go from here.”
“I have an aunt in Chicago. I figure she’ll let me sleep on her couch for a few weeks. After that, I’ll head for Las Vegas. Ever seen the Grand Canyon, Chris?”
“I’m mostly concerned with Cleveland right now. You know there’s a whole lot of cops with guns on this block who are pretty worried that you’re going to hurt some of those hostages. You have to know they’re willing to take you out to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“I wouldn’t respect them if they weren’t, Chris.”
“We’re going to have to work together to come up with a good exit strategy, one where no one gets hurt.”
“Exit strategy. I like that. It sounds all corporatelike.”
Again Patrick felt a desperate need to travel through the wires and strangle the little shit.
“Why don’t you tell me what you have in mind?”
“I could tell you, Chris, but then I’d have to kill you.”
Cavanaugh wiped moisture from his nose, then pinched the bridge. Patrick wouldn’t say he seemed worried, exactly, but he did not speak with the confidence he had earlier that morning. It scared him. Cavanaugh had been through this process hundreds of times more than Patrick had, and something about this situation was atypical. But then, hell, from Paul to Theresa to Rachael, nothing about the day had been typical.
“I’ll go first,” Cavanaugh offered. “If you put down the weapons and come out, you have my word that you will not be harmed in any way.”
“You can go first, last, and always, Chris. It doesn’t matter, because this is not a negotiation. We’ll leave when we want to leave, and if your cops try to stop us, we’ll kill a few hostages. End of story.”
“If you hurt people, I can’t guarantee your safety.”
“We’ve already hurt people, in case you haven’t been paying attention. So I’m guessing our safety has become irrelevant. At least I can still pick the way I go.”
Patrick found himself chewing on a knuckle. Lucas had gotten it, finally—he had no way out. He could collect the money, he could keep the cops at bay by threatening the hostages, he could trade barbs with the famous negotiator—he could do everything but leave. He had two choices: He could give up, or he could go out in a blaze of glory or some other suitably dramatic ending.
Dreamy, his sister had said. Romantic.
Patrick had no doubt which choice Lucas would take.
“That’s not true.” Cavanaugh continued to work on it. “We can still