Hostage - Страница 16

Talley kissed his daughter, who was as responsive as a wet towel.

'Sarah told us that there are men with guns barricaded in a house! Where are they?'

Talley pointed toward the cul-de-sac.

'Just around the corner and up that street. You see the helicopters?'

The helicopters made it hard to hear.

Amanda's eyes were wide and excited as she looked around at the police cars, but Jane looked drawn with dark rings circling her eyes. Talley thought that his wife looked tired. He felt a stab of guilt and shame.

'You been working overtime?'

'Not so much. Two nights a week.'

'You look tired.'

'Does it make me look older, too?'

'Jesus, Jane, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry.'

She closed her eyes and nodded, her expression saying that they were covering familiar ground.

Rather than stand outside, Talley brought them into the house. Mrs. Peña's kitchen was filled with the rich smells of brewing coffee and cheese enchiladas. She had put out pitchers of water and cans of soft drinks, insisting that the officers help themselves, and now she was cooking.

Talley introduced Jane and Amanda to Mrs. Peña, then led them into the family room. The big television was playing live coverage of the scene. Amanda went to the television.

'Sarah said they have hostages.'

'They have a father and two children. We think that's all, but we don't know. One of the kids is a girl. About your age.'

'This is so cool. Can we go see the house?'

'No, we can't go up there.'

'But you're the chief of police. Why not?'

Jane said, 'It's a crime scene, Mandy. It's dangerous.'

Talley turned to his wife.

'I should've called, Jane. This thing broke just after we spoke, then everything was happening so fast that I didn't even think of it. I'm sorry.'

Jane touched his arm.

'How are you doing?'

'I think the guy's going to come around. I've been on the phone with him, he's scared, but he's not suicidal.'

'I'm not asking about the situation, Chief. I mean you.'

She glanced at her hand on his arm, then looked up at him again.

'You're shaking.'

Talley stepped away just enough so that her hand fell.

He glanced past her at the big television. He could see Jorgenson hunkered behind his radio car.

'The Sheriffs are taking over as soon as they get here.'

'But they're not here. You are. I know what this does to you.'

'They'll be here when they get here. I'm the chief of police, Jane. That's it.'

She stared at him the way she did when she was looking for meaning beyond his words. It used to infuriate him. Where Jane's face was a mirror to every emotion she felt, his face was flat and plain and revealed nothing. She had often accused him of wearing a mask, and he had never been able to explain that it wasn't a mask. It was a tightly held control that kept him from falling apart.

He looked away again. It hurt to see her concern.

'All right, Jeff. I'm just worried about you, is all.'

Talley nodded.

'You guys should have dinner up here before you head back. Let some of the traffic bleed out. Maybe that Thai place. You like that place, don't you?'

Jane grew serious, then nodded.

'We could do that. There's no point in rushing home.'

'Good.'

'I don't want to just drop her off at your place so she has to sit there all alone, so how about she and I go eat, then we'll both stay over. We'll rent a movie. If this thing blows over tonight, you and Mandy could be laughing about it tomorrow this time.'

Talley felt embarrassed. He nodded, but the nod was a stall because he didn't know what to say. He noticed that Jane had dyed her hair a new color. She had colored it the same rich chestnut for as long as Talley could remember, but now it was a deep red so dark that it was almost black. Her hair was cut shorter, too, almost a boy cut. Talley realized then that this woman deserved more than he would ever be able to give her. He told himself that if he cared for her and for whatever they once had, he had to set her free, not curse her with a man whose heart had died.

'What?'

He looked away again.

'You and I need to talk.'

She didn't say anything for a moment, just stared up at him until a faint smile touched the corners of her mouth. He could tell that she was frightened.

'All right, Jeff.'

'The Sheriffs will be here soon. When they get set up, I'll hand off the phone, and then I should be able to leave.'

She nodded.

Talley wanted to tell her then. He wanted to tell her that she was free, that he wouldn't hold her back any longer, that he finally knew that he was beyond redemption, but the words wouldn't come and their absence left him feeling cowardly.

He told Metzger to escort his wife and daughter out of the development, then he went back to his car to wait for the Sheriffs in the dimming light.

Santa Clarita, California

Six miles west of Bristo Camino

Chili's Restaurant

7:02 P.M.

GLEN HOWELL

Glen Howell didn't have to warn his people to keep their voices down; they were surrounded by middle-class vanilla families come to sop up cut-rate frozen shrimp and fried cheese on their Friday night out; people Glen Howell thought of as zombies; irritated men and women at the end of another pointless week, pretending that their screaming, out-of-control, overfed children weren't monsters. Welcome to suburbia, Howell thought, and you can stuff it up your ass.

Howell didn't let the four men and two women get booze, or food that was made to order. He didn't have time to hustle after the parolee cooks in the kitchen, and booze would put his people to sleep. He needed them sharp. Howell had called in each of the six himself, running each name past Sonny Benza personally. They were longtime associates who could do what needed to be done without drawing attention to themselves, and they could do it quickly. From what Howell was learning, speed was going to be everything. Speed, and a total domination of the local scene. He accepted the fact that he would not sleep again until this was over.

Ken Seymore, who had spent the past two hours pretending to be a reporter from the Los Angeles Times, was saying, 'They requested a full crisis response team from the L.A. County Sheriff's Department. The Sheriffs are on the way now, but there's been some kinda problem, so they've been delayed.'

Duane Manelli fired off a question. Manelli spoke in abrupt bursts, the way an M16A2 coughed out three-shot groups.

'How many people is that?'

'In the Sheriff's team?'

'Yeah.'

When Duane Manelli was eighteen years old, a state judge had given him the choice between going into the service or pulling twenty months for armed robbery. Manelli had joined the army, and liked it. He spent twelve years in the service, going airborne, ranger, and finally special forces. He currently ran the best hijack crew in Sonny Benza's operation.

Seymore found his notes.

'Here's what we're looking at: A command team, a negotiating team, a tactical team – the tac team includes a perimeter team, the assault team, snipers, and breachers – and an intelligence team. Some of these guys might double up on what they do, but we're looking at about thirty-five new bodies on the scene.'

Somebody whistled.

'Damn, when those boys roll, they roll.'

LJ Ruiz leaned forward on his elbows, frowning. Ruiz was a quiet man with a thoughtful manner who worked for Howell as an enforcer. He specialized in terrorizing bar owners until they agreed to buy their booze from distributors approved by Benza.

'What's a breacher?'

'If they gotta blow open a door or a window or whatever, the breachers set the charge. They go to a special school for that.'

Howell didn't like that many more policemen coming in, but they had expected it. Seymore had reported that, so far, the federal authorities hadn't been requested, but Howell knew that the odds of this would increase as time passed.

Howell asked when the Sheriffs would arrive.

'Cop I talked to, he said they'll be here in three hours, maybe four tops.'

Howell checked his watch, then nodded at Gayle Devarona, one of the two women at the table. Like Seymore, she had pretended to be a news reporter in order to openly ask questions. If the questions were too blatant to ask, she used her skills as a thief.

'What's up with the local cops?'

'We got sixteen full- and part-time employees, fourteen police officers and two full-time office people. I got their names here, and most of the addresses. I could've gotten the others, but I had to come here.'

Seymore laughed.

'Bitch, bitch, bitch.'

'Fist yourself.'

Howell told them to knock it off. Bullshit took time.

Devarona tore a single sheet from a yellow legal pad and passed it across the table to Howell.

'I got the names from the Bristo police office. The addresses and phones I got from a contact at the phone company.'

Howell scanned a neatly hand-printed list. Talley's name was at the top, along with his address and two phone numbers. Howell guessed that one was the house phone, the other a cell.

'You get any background on these people, see what we have to deal with?'

She went through what she had, which made Bristo sound like a burial ground for retired meter maids and retards. Not that bad, really, but Howell thought that they'd caught a break. He knew of small towns in Idaho where half the population had pulled time on LAPD's Robbery-Homicide Division and the other half were retired FBI. Try to fuck around up there, they'd hand you your ass. Howell checked his watch again. By midnight tonight, he could and would have credit checks and military records (if any) of each of these officers, as well as information about their families.