Chapter Thirty-One
The dark lot glowed with an eerie flash of red and blue lights as Officer Laura Tallent pulled up to the end of the line of massive containers. When the call had first come in, police dispatch had told her unit to come in quiet, but the report that the suspect, Kyle Macrae, didn’t have possession of the minor any longer made cornering him the best approach. They’d take him in alive if they could, but he’d already shot a civilian. And they weren’t sure where the child was. Only that a trusted adult was with him.
They’d been told to be vigilant. No one wanted to shoot the kid by accident. But the suspect was armed.
“I won’t tell you not to go. But come home to me. That’s all I ask.” Chicklet’s voice had been strained, tight with fear when Laura called, but she trusted Laura to do her job. And she’d promised to get Tyler home so he wouldn’t be close to this. Laura didn’t have to worry that he’d be one of the many people she had to look out for. “I love you.”
Chicklet’s last words stuck with her. Laura moved silently past the first container as the men and women from her unit spread out around the lot. Inhaled slowly to keep her pulse steady. She rarely discussed the risk of cases she was involved in with Chicklet. Did her best to keep her home life apart from it. But she never forgot the shadow that dimmed the light in Chicklet’s eyes every time Laura put on the badge.
“I love you too.” Laura had said it on the call. And whispered it again now, because she knew going in that the danger was higher than her usual cases. They were dealing with a desperate man who saw a child as his only way out. Cort had Jaxon, but if Macrae found him before they did, anything could happen. Cort had said Ford was armed. He wasn’t.
Laura hadn’t found Ford yet. If Cort wasn’t hurt, Ford must be. There were a dozen officers covering the scene. One was with him. They’d get him out. Her focus had to be on keeping Ford’s son safe.
“Drop the weapon!”
“Let me walk away and I won’t kill him.”
Two steps forward. Laura could see Macrae. Standing behind Cort, who was on his knees with Jaxon in his arms. Macrae’s gun was pressed against Cort’s temple. Another officer was trying to talk him down, while two more closed in from behind.
None could take a shot without risking Macrae shooting Cort.
“He’s my nephew. I won’t hurt him. But I’ll kill anyone who tries to take him away from me.” Macrae jabbed the gun against Cort’s head. “Try me. This asshole made shit more complicated than it needs to be. Over a pathetic piece of ass? Well, he’s dead now, you stupid thug. Do you really think anyone will let you keep my nephew?”
“You better hope Ford’s still alive.” Cort made a shushing sound as Jaxon sobbed against his chest. Stroked the little boy’s back. “He’s the only reason you’re not dead yet.”
“Says the man whose brains are about to be splattered all over the pavement?” Macrae let out a cold laugh. “Ford didn’t move after I shot him. What the fuck are you going to do about it?”
A low growl from Cort gave her seconds to react. Cort slammed his fist up into Macrae’s wrist. The gun cleared his head. Went off as Laura pulled the trigger.
The bullet cut across Cort’s cheek and struck the center of Macrae’s chest. An officer she didn’t know fired seconds later, hitting Macrae’s shoulder.
A THUNK and Macrae’s body hit the ground. Cort scooped Jaxon up in his arms and ran toward her, even as she closed in on Macrae and kicked his gun out of reach. The man wasn’t moving, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She pulled his arms behind his back, snapping a pair of cuffs on his wrists, taking note of the two officers standing a few feet away with their guns trained on his prone form.
One stepped forward to check Macrae’s pulse. “He’s still alive.”
“Get the EMT to send another ambulance.” She could hear the one they’d sent for Ford speeding away. Cort and Jaxon needed to be checked out too, but she’d bring them to the hospital herself, rather than have them wait. “See if you can stabilize him until they get here. Cort, come with me.” She eyed the bloody wound on his cheek where the bullet had grazed him, fighting not to wince. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t worry about it. I need to get to Ford.” Cort’s voice was rough, but she could tell he was forcing himself to stay calm for the little boy. He followed her to her unit, carrying Jaxon and whispering to him. “He’ll be all right. You’ll see. Your father’s tough, kid. He’ll keep fighting for you. He’ll keep fucking fighting.”
His words quieted Jaxon’s broken sobs. They were convincing, but as Laura held open the back door of her car for him to climb in with the child, she met his eyes and saw the doubt.
She didn’t have to warn him what he might find when he got to the hospital.
He already knew.