Harlequin Superromance September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: This Good Man\Promises Under the Peach Tree\Husband by Choice (26 page)

Reid stood in a conclave with Renner; Lieutenant Vince Brown, who was Renner's immediate superior in the sheriff's department; the head of the combined city/county SWAT, whose name Reid knew but couldn't remember at the moment; and Alec Raynor, who was here because Reid was. He'd heard somebody say Sheriff McAllister was on his way.

A new voice made them all turn. “Haveman answered this time, but says Captain Sawyer is the only person he'll talk to. He reminded me that your hour is about up.”

The negotiator. Renner had assured Reid that the guy was good. He'd been trying, first by phone then with a bullhorn, to talk to Haveman.

Renner's lieutenant nodded unhappily, his eyes meeting Reid's. “You know what to say?”

“Delay him.”

“Then do it.”

Reid lifted his phone to his ear. Two rings, and Haveman said, “Where's my boy?”

“He's not here yet. We'd placed him in a foster home. We had trouble reaching them.”

The negotiator, holding Reid's gaze, nodded his approval.

“Is he on his way here or not?” the guy screamed.

Reid unclenched his jaw. “Yes, but you have to be patient. And—you know we can't send him in. Best I can do is give you a chance to talk to him.”

“We'll talk about that when he's here.” Haveman was eerily calm again.

“If you hurt anyone, you won't have that chance,” Reid said in a hard voice. “Get Roger or Paula on the line for me. I need verification everyone is all right.”

“This is the last time until you show me my son.” There was a pause.

“Reid?” It was Roger. “We're holding on. Except for Damon. He's puking up blood.” Urgency infused his voice.

A couple of the men surrounding Reid swore softly. He closed his eyes for a moment. “Okay, Roger. Let me talk to him again.”

Haveman came back on. “Bring me my boy.”

“Let the kid who's hurt go. If you want to see TJ, you need to demonstrate some good will. If you've already killed a kid, there's no way we can let you get in touching distance of your son.”

Silence. The negotiator looked alarmed. Usually able to maintain dispassion dealing with the worst of scum, Reid knew he'd sounded coldly angry. Less than conciliatory.

They all waited. Reid wasn't breathing, and he doubted anyone else was, either. Eyes were glued to the phone held to his ear.

“Him only,” Haveman said abruptly. “If he can walk. If anyone tries to rush the door, I start shooting. You come to meet him. No one else.”

“All right. Me alone.”

The call ended.

“You haven't put a vest on yet,” Renner said, turning to rummage in the back of his Jeep, behind which they stood.

Reid shrugged out of his shirt and pulled on the tactical vest, realized his dress shirt wouldn't button over it and accepted a T-shirt from Renner. On top of that, he donned a black windbreaker with
POLICE
across the back.

With a nod of thanks, he started toward the porch. Behind him, he heard someone say, “Sharpshooters in place?” and crackling confirmation as one by one they responded.

The front door of the lodge opened and a body tumbled out.

* * *

A
S
SHE
RAN
UP
the driveway past a dozen or more emergency vehicles, Anna didn't know how she'd find Reid among the crowd. Then she passed the bulk of a fire truck and saw ahead to an old lodge with a gently sagging porch roof. Somebody had just fallen out the door, which immediately slammed close.

She stopped, staring, and pressed her fingers to her mouth in horror. Oh God, oh God. Was it a
body?
Had TJ's father just murdered someone and tossed him out?
Please, not one of the boys.

But then the body—not a body—pushed up and crawled forward to the top of the stairs. And that was the moment when Anna saw the man who ran forward, mounting the stairs two at a time, and bent to lift the boy onto his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

Reid. Of course it was Reid.

Terrified, she waited for gunfire, for him to go down.

Instead, he came down the steps more carefully than he'd gone up and then crossed the yard in long strides. Moments later, he was engulfed by others, and the boy was lifted from his shoulder and laid on a waiting gurney.

Anna's legs trembled, weakened. She flattened a hand on the cold metal of an SUV, not sure if she'd stay up without the support. What determination she'd had leached out. She'd never imagined this kind of circus, with him one of the ringmasters. A private conversation would be impossible. Did she even want to pull his focus from doing his job?

But this wasn't only a job for him, she thought with a shudder of fear. He had the training, the experience—but this time his emotions were involved. He shouldn't
be
on the front line, not when it was his family inside. Suddenly, she was raging. Why him?

I promised Caleb.

Her laugh had an edge of hysteria. Wonderful. She'd promised to march up to Reid in the midst of a bunch of other cops and say,
You can't risk yourself.

Great time to realize she couldn't say that. She would be asking him to be...less than himself. To not give everything he had to the people he loved. She suddenly wasn't sure she had the courage to seek him out at all.

I have to break a promise.

Medics carrying the gurney rushed straight at her. Anna flattened herself on the SUV to let them pass. Intent on their patient, they didn't seem to see her. She saw the boy's face covered by an oxygen mask—and the blood spatter on the inside of the mask.

She moved tentatively forward, passing unseen. In the short time since she'd left her town house, the sky had deepened to purple. It was getting harder to make out even the trunks of the pines to each side of the narrow driveway. Her eyes were dazzled by emergency lights left blinking on some of the vehicles, who knew why. Even as she became aware of how fast dark was descending, a floodlight blinked on, a brilliant white illuminating the front porch. In contrast, other shadows grew deeper.

Anna passed an older-style Jeep Cherokee. Ahead of it was an SUV she thought was Reid's. By the front bumper stood a group of men. She stopped maybe ten feet away when she recognized Reid as part of the group, although he had his back to her. And...wasn't that Angel Butte police chief Alec Raynor? What was he doing here? Oh, and Sergeant Renner—she'd talked to him a couple of times now.

Reid had his phone to his ear. Everybody in his group stood silent. After a minute, he shook his head and pocketed the phone. They started to talk, voices low and urgent. A few words made it to where she lurked in the near dark.

“...back.”

“Window?”

“...need distraction. If he thinks his kid is here...”

Then, louder, “...shouldn't have turned the damn floodlight on. Now he'll be suspicious if we turn it off.”

And, in a lull, Reid's voice: “...might have to do it.”

Anna would have sworn she hadn't made a sound, but Clay Renner's head turned suddenly and he saw her. Something in his expression changed. Everyone in the group turned to see what he was looking at, Reid last. His gaze locked on her, unblinking.

Her face heated. She shouldn't have come. All her presence would do was embarrass him.

He tilted his head and murmured something to Clay, then walked toward her.

“Anna.” His voice was low, husky. It sounded the same way it did when he wanted to kiss her. Half expression of intent, half plea.

“Caleb asked me to come,” she defended herself.

Apparently unconscious of the watching men, Reid wrapped a hand around her nape and tugged her forward, until she leaned against him and he could encircle her with his arms. “Anna,” he murmured again.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “No. I'm sorry. I never should have lied to you.”

She pulled back enough to look up at his shadowed face. “I shouldn't have sulked for so long. I was just...all mixed up. I missed you so much, Reid.”

“I saw you at the hearing.”

“I was so proud of you.”

Both kept their voices low, the intimacy unconscious.

“Did you see Caleb testify?” Reid murmured. “That took guts.”

“I loved the judge. I wanted to cheer. I hope Diego gets as lucky.”

“Yeah.” His voice died.

They looked at
each other, trying to distinguish more than could be seen in the gathering darkness.

“The other boys,” she said tentatively. “Are they all in there?”

“No, most were in their cabins. Jane Renner came to get them. Haveman only has three. Had. Did you see that he released one? Damon's not looking good.”

“No, I saw.” She shivered at the memory and his arms tightened.

“Why did Caleb send you?” he asked.

“He's afraid you'll offer to trade yourself for some of the hostages.” She wasn't surprised by the shift of expression on his face. “Oh, no,” she whispered. “You're planning to, aren't you?”

“That's...not standard law enforcement practice, Anna. We don't put ourselves in that position.” He hesitated. “In this case, if he offers the chance, I may need to take it. He's filled with rage, and we assume he's suicidal. The only reason he's holding off now is that he still thinks we may deliver TJ to him.” Her eyes widened and he shook his head. “We won't. And his patience is short-lived. Having someone inside to distract him while the assault team gets in place could be huge. If he hears something and guns down the kids and the Hales...” His throat worked.

Hot tears burned the back of her eyelids. She willed them not to fall. “Why does it have to be you?”

“He's fixated on me. So far, I'm the only person he'll talk to.”

She nodded, wanting to be numb. “I knew Caleb was right.”

“And you came to talk me out of it?”

“Could I?”

He grimaced. “Maybe. I'd rather you didn't try.”

Oh, God. He was telling her he would do anything for her, even compromise his sense of integrity. The knowledge gave her the strength to say what she had to.

“I won't.” Anna tried to smile, knowing it was a flop. “I just wanted to tell you how important it is that you stay safe. Caleb needs you, and—” she closed her eyes “—I do, too.”

“Anna.” There it was again, the gravel and the yearning. He rubbed his cheek against her head. When she lifted her face, his mouth moved softly over the bridge of her nose, her jaw, her lower lip. Not settling, just...touching.

“I love you,” she whispered. “Maybe you don't want that, but I had to say it.”

He groaned, low and deep. “Anna.”

“Reid?” The voice came from behind him, polite but unmistakably an imperative.

His muscles went taut under her hands. Then he made a near-soundless sigh. “Okay, we'll finish this later,” he murmured to her before planting a quick, hard kiss on her mouth.

And then he turned and strode back to the huddle of high-ranking law enforcement officers who were apparently, as a group, willing to sacrifice him for the hostages inside.

As he was willing to sacrifice himself.

A burning ball of fear swelled in her chest as she slipped through the trees to an out-of-the-way vantage point where she'd be able to watch without distracting Reid.

* * *

“W
HICH
KID
SHALL
I kill first? Haveman snarled. “Or shall I make it the woman?”

Reid's fingers tightened on the phone. “TJ is still half an hour or more away.” This time, Reid managed to keep his voice calm, even soothing. “You've got to give us more time. If you kill someone in the meantime, there's no deal. You understand that?”

“I understand you're playing me.”

Rage had corroded Haveman's vocal cords. That didn't worry Reid as much as his unpredictably shifting mood, from black fury to slyness to the pleasure he felt every time he threatened to hurt someone. Reid remembered telling someone that of all the abusive parents he'd been investigating, Randal Haveman stood out for not being wired right.
I never spoke truer words,
he thought.

“So what's the solution?” he asked. “I can't produce your boy out of thin air. All I'm asking is for patience.” And time to get his troops into place.

“I want to talk to you face-to-face. You say no, I kill one of the kids.”

“I've told you, if anyone dies, you'll never see TJ again.”

“Then here's the deal. You put yourself in my hands, and instead of killing one of these punks, I'll let him go to show my
good will.
” He leaned on Reid's earlier words in clear mockery. “Your choice.” And then he chuckled, the geniality another startling shift of mood. “A conundrum. How will you choose?”

“Both of them. You don't need so many hostages. Especially if you have me in there. The more people you need to keep an eye on, the greater the risk to you.”

“No. The young are so much more...compelling. Decide.”

Shit. He didn't know either of the remaining boys that well. Except...Isaac was the good kid, the one who would be eighteen in a matter of months. The math genius who tutored the others.

Did that make him worthier?

Truong was physically smaller, more vulnerable.

So, what, I flip a coin?

“Can't do it, can you?” Haveman gloated. “Too bad I don't have your brother here. I'd have you by the short hairs then, wouldn't I?”

Reid's simmer became a raging boil. He clamped a ruthless lid on it even before he saw the negotiator's frantic head shake. “It's lucky for you that you don't,” he said coolly. “Truong.”

“What?”

“You'll let Truong walk out. He's my choice.”