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I stopped listening because we’d arrived at the donut shop, and a sick feeling of dread latched onto the lining of my stomach and started forcing it to churn.
“And having babies,” Louis said.
I ignored him and everything as we pulled up two blocks away from the donut shop.
There were lights on at the shop, but I could see no movement.
“Who called this in?” I asked curiously.
“The woman, Moshe,” Foster said as he got out and moved around the back to open the door. “She also told us how she got in, so it wasn’t ‘technically breaking and entering.’”
I rolled my eyes and got out, feeling the deep stretch in my legs as I stood straight.
Everything still hurt.
Technically, I was ‘better’ after being shot in the chest a few weeks ago, but every once in a while, certain movements still reminded me that I wasn’t one hundred percent yet.
“I’ll cover the back,” Louis murmured, taking his sniper rifle and moving.
“I think there’s a hotel that you could probably borrow the roof of. Looks right over the back alley. I saw it the night that everything went down with Kerrie,” I said.
Louis nodded and left, leaving Saint to head toward the first cop car he could find and find out more about the scene.
As our hostage negotiator, he was the one that would be doing all the talking.
At least, I hoped so, anyway.
I didn’t know either of the two employees all that well, and it would benefit us all to allow the person that knew what he was doing to talk the girl down.
Only, the moment that we arrived at the command tent, things changed.
“Let me call,” Saint said to the nearest officer. “Someone get me her number?”
The number was given out, and we all moved so that we could better see inside.
It helped that it was dark out and all the lights in the donut shop were on, enabling us to see everything inside.
I could see straight back to the kitchen, and I could clearly see the girl pacing with Ken in a chair in the doorway that separated the front from the kitchen.
He was tied down with what looked like zip ties, and he looked pissed.
Ken was an in shape man, and I was clearly confused on how he ended up in that chair when he should’ve been able to easily overpower her.
“Mrs. Brummel?” Saint’s easy-going, there’s nothing to see here voice said. “This is Saint Nichols, the hostage negotiator with the Kilgore Police Department SWAT Team.”
Since the phone was on speaker, allowing us all to hear what was being said, we all got treated to Moshe’s shriek of outrage.
“This wasn’t how it was supposed to go!”
Then we watched as she took the knife in her hand and hastily sliced her way through the flour that was on the back wall behind Ken’s back.
I winced.
She managed to hit all six bags on the shelf.
Awesome.
“Can I shoot her?” Louis asked. “Because the back door is wide open, and I can see everything. She’s nowhere near him.”
“No,” Foster grumbled. “Chick’s clearly off her rocker. Let’s see if Saint can get anything out of her first.”
Louis sighed. “Sir, yes, sir.”
“Don’t give me that attitude, kid. I used to change your diapers,” Foster muttered, sounding amused.
I rolled my eyes.
He used to change all of our diapers.
“That just makes you old,” Sammy, his nephew, said.
“Shut up, kid,” Foster murmured. “Let’s keep this professional.”
“Let’s get this shit on the road,” I suggested. “My girl’s supposed to be here opening this place up in a few hours.”
“We’re working on it, Mr. Impatient Pants.” Foster chuckled.
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Ma’am,” Saint tried again. “We would like a chance to talk to you…”
The woman screamed again, dodged out of sight, and we all heard a loud clang.
“She just knocked over a big bucket of dough that was in the biggest fuckin’ mixer I’ve ever seen,” Louis supplied helpfully.
“Goddammit!”
That was Ken screaming because he was pissed. “Do you know how long that takes to make?”
I felt my lips twitching.
And, like I thought, Ken decided that enough was enough. With two yanks of his hands, he pulled his arms off the chair that he was zip-tied to, stomped out of the front door, and didn’t look back.
“You can’t leave!” Moshe screeched, nearly following Ken out the door.
Ken walked right up to our command tent and crossed his arms.
They bulged in response.
“I waited as long as I could, but that’s going to take me a couple of hours to remake. I need her out,” Ken said. “You’ve got her on breaking and entering, and kidnapping or something, right?”
Saint placed the phone back down and Foster stepped in front.
“We got her. Let’s go get her, boys.”
So that was exactly what we did.
She didn’t come nicely, either.
She came spitting and clawing like a madwoman, swinging the knife like she knew what she was doing with it.
