Without Compromise (11 page)

              “Did you ever see him arguing with Molly?”

              She nodded, “He got mad because she had mud on her shoe and it got on the car mat when they were on their way to a restaurant where we were meeting.”

              “Did he yell at her?”

              Josie shook her head, “No, he just glared at her all throughout dinner.”

              Tag could never understand why women stayed with men who treated them like that.

              “What did she see in him?”

              Josie shrugged, “He seemed glamorous; he was a pretty smooth talker.”

              “And he hasn’t contacted her all this time?”

              She shook her head, “Not to my knowledge. She actually moved to this area because she figured it was the last place he would look.”

              “Has he always owned a handgun?”

              She shrugged, “I don’t know. I never heard Molly or him talking about it.”

              “Does he have family in the area?”

              Josie looked frustrated by the question, “I don’t know, Tag. I just don’t know anything about him.”

              He rubbed her arm, “It’s okay, Josie. We can work with this.”

              She stood up, “I’m going to go get a tissue.”

              The team filed into Tag’s apartment so silently that Josie didn’t hear them.

              Tag noticed her surprise when she emerged from the bathroom, “They’re going to see if they can talk the guy into coming out.”

              Jacobson was on the phone, talking to the officers parked outside, “Subject’s name is Brandon Houser. Reported to be about five ten, dark hair cut short. Houser is wearing black slacks and a grey shirt. He is armed with an unknown handgun. Subject was in a relationship with hostage, Molly Drake. Drake ended the relationship because Houser was too aggressive.”

              Josie dabbed at her eyes, “Maybe he’ll open the door if I go over there and knock.”

              Tag shook his head, but Lutz interrupted, “She can talk to Molly like she doesn’t know Brandon’s in there.”

              “And have him shoot at her?” Tag moved between Josie and the door. “No.”

              Josie sidled around him, “I’ll just ask and then get back in here quickly.”

              “You’re not faster than a speeding bullet, Supergirl,” Tag leveled his sarcasm at her.

              “I’m faster than you.”

              Granger coughed back a laugh.

              “Josie,” Tag pulled her off to the side. “Are you sure you saw a gun?”

              She nodded.

              He looked at his sergeant and held out his hand. Lowell handed over a vest.

              “Stay behind me,” Tag strapped her in while he spoke. “And get back into my apartment as soon as you call in. You can come back out if you need to call back to her.”

              Lowell opened the door.

              Tag walked out first and stood off to the side, using his left arm to hold her firmly to his back. He reached forward and knocked.

              Josie cleared her throat, “Mol,” she called out loudly. “I thought we were going to go get some supper.”

              Tag began to propel Josie backward at that point – quickly. Her back came in contact with the wall near Tag’s door.

              There was no answer. Tag frowned and crooked his finger toward her.

              “I know you’re in there, Molly. I saw your lights turn on as I was walking up the sidewalk,” Josie sounded impatient.

              Tag pushed her backward again. He was very aware of her hands on his shoulders.

              “Josie,” Molly’s voice finally came through the door. “I can’t go tonight.”

              Josie dropped her head between Tag’s shoulder blades. He squeezed her hand gently in acknowledgement. He was relieved too.

              “Well, can I at least come in and get my sweater that I left there?” she wiped at her eyes. “It’s chillier than I thought it was.”

              Tag turned to give her a look of encouragement.

              “Um, no,” Molly was clearly crying. “Can you just borrow one from Tag?”

              Josie frowned at him. He nodded.

              “Yeah. Okay. I’ll go talk to Tag – see if he can loan me one.”

              Tag led her back to his apartment, “Do you think she was asking you to get help?”

              Josie wiped her eyes, “Either that or she was trying to get rid of me so I wouldn’t get hurt.”

              Tag took her hand, “We’re going to resolve this, Josie.”

              “I know you will, Tag.”

              He looked up at his sergeant, “What now?”

              “I’d like to know what’s going on in there.”

              Tag had an idea, “I can get eyes in.”

              Lowell waited for the explanation.

              Tag glanced at Josie, “How hard would it be to climb up to that window?”

              “Easy,” she stood up. “I do it all the time.”

              He pulled her back down, “Not you. Me.”

              Josie shook her head, “You aren’t in top form right now, Tag.”

              He knew what she was talking about, “I’m completely sober.”

              Lowell looked at him sharply, “You been drinking, Madden?”

              “I had a couple a few hours ago. I’ve had two bottles of water since then. I’m stone cold sober.”

              Lowell’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t say anything more.

              “So?” Tag looked at the woman. “Can you get me up there?”

              Josie seemed to be weighing the options.

              Finally, she stood up and went to the window, “It’s pretty much the same on both sides,” she slid the pane up and swung a leg outside.

              “What is she doing?” Jeremy jumped from his seat.

              “Relax,” Tag watched her descend and followed her out the window. “I’ll keep in touch.”

              Tag made it down the side of the building by listening to her careful instruction.

              “Good,” she picked up his arm and inspected the scrape he acquired in a slide. “Now, back up again.”

              “How do I do that?”

              She explained her technique. He tried and fell.

              “Let me go,” she whispered to him as he lay on his back.

              “No can do,” he sat up and tried again. This time he made it all the way to the window. Tag was so grateful to those ugly window boxes the landlord and put in two years earlier.

              She shrugged and followed him up.

              “Okay,” he dragged her in as he spoke. “You stay here, and I’m going to go sit in your sister’s window.”

              Lowell looked like he thought Tag was crazy, but he didn’t argue, “Keep your radio on.”

              Tag shimmied down the building and headed over to the other side. He managed to make it up to Molly’s window on the third try. He saw his neighbor first.

              “Okay, boss,” he whispered. “I got a visual.”

              “Good. What’s going on?”

              “The subject is sitting at the kitchen counter with his back to me. Molly is in the kitchen. It looks like she’s making something to eat.”

              “What’s the floor plan like in there? Similar to yours?”

              “Um, no. More open. Her living room and kitchen are all one big room.”

              “Can Molly see you?”

              “She could if she looked this way.”

              “Can you get in without the subject seeing you?”

              “Probably. It doesn’t look like the window is locked.”

              “We’re going to get Josie to draw her attention to the door again.”

              “Copy that.”

              Tag heard Lowell give Josie some more instructions.

              “Molly,” Josie’s voice was clear, “I got a sweater from Tag, so I’ll see you later.”

              Brandon had lifted his gun at the sound of Josie’s voice.

              “Sarge, he’s agitated by the talking.”

              Molly took a deep breath, “Okay, Jo. I’ll talk to you later.”

              The gun went down a few inches.

              “Yeah, Molly,” the younger sister answered. “I’ll give you a call.”

              “Thanks.”

              “I might stop by tomorrow, Molly.”

              The man stood up and walked toward the door.

              “Subject is pointing gun at door,” Tag whispered hoarsely. “Get Josie out of there.”

              “Affirmative,” Lowell responded. “Josie is back in apartment.”

              Tag had used the distraction to raise the window. He was now sitting on the ledge, waiting for his team to create another distraction. It didn’t take long. A loud blare of music came from Tag’s apartment.

              Brandon shot an angry glance at the door. Molly handed him a plate, clearly trying to appease him. Tag was thankful that the man’s back was to the window, making it a simple thing to slide in and lie down behind the couch.

              “I’m in.”

              The music stopped.

              “Your window is open,” Brandon commented between bites of food.

              Tag heard Molly sniffle, “I. . .I’m sorry, I don’t know why it’s open. I’ll go close it.”

              “Stop!” the gunman shouted.

              Tag couldn’t see what was going on, but he could hear Brandon’s footsteps drawing nearer. He rolled to his back and pointed his weapon upward in case Brandon was about to find him.

              Sure enough, the barrel of a pistol pointed over the edge of the couch, “Who’s over there?”

              Tag inched slightly to his left, so the gun was not pointing at him.

              “Brandon,” Molly spoke up, her voice clearly agitated, “there’s nobody back there.”

              The gun disappeared from Tag’s line of sight, and he could only assume Brandon had it back on Molly.

              Tag rose to a crouching position to look over the back of the couch

              Brandon had a sandwich in his hand, and his back was to Tag.  His gun dropped a little. Molly moved to the fridge, and the gun didn’t follow.

              Tag stepped lightly to the side to approach the other man from behind. He had just about cleared the couch when the window slammed shut of its own volition.

              Brandon spun and fired two shots wildly in the direction of the noise. One bullet hit the window and shattered it; the other hit the brick wall. The shooter recovered enough to redirect his gun at Tag. Thankfully, he didn’t shoot again.

              “Shots fired,” Tag spoke softly. “No hits.”

              Brandon seemed not to hear Tag’s communication with Lowell, “Aren’t you the neighbor? What are doing in here?”

              “He’s a cop, Brandon,” Molly inched away from the man while his attention was divided.

              “I guessed that by the word ‘police’ written across his chest, but thanks,” Brandon stepped back against the wall so he could see both Tag and Molly.

              Tag kept his gun trained on the man in front of him, “Why don’t you just put down the gun before someone gets hurt, Brandon.”

              “Put your own gun down,” the man sneered.

              “I can see that neither one of us is going to give up his weapon. Let’s let Molly sit down anyway. She looks like she’s going to pass out.”

              Brandon made a twitching motion with his gun to indicate Molly should sit down on one of the bar stools.

              “Tag,” Lowell’s voice came through the earpiece, “Josie wants to know how her sister is.”

              “Victim is okay.”

              Brandon redirected the gun to Tag, “Who are you talking to?”

              “My sergeant. He just wanted to know how Molly was.”

              “Well, stop it,” Brandon ordered. “It looks like you’re crazy.”

              “Tag,” Lowell spoke again, “is the window still open?”

              It was not open so much as completely gone.

              Tag looked Brandon in the eye, “Affirmative.”

              “Keep his attention on you in ‘bout ten minutes. We’re coming in.”

              Brandon swiped some moisture off his forehead, “You always talk like that?”