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I gritted my teeth to keep from saying something scathing to my boss.
“Y’all aren’t participating in this anyway,” Bennett continued. “You may see, hear, and plan. But you may not execute.”
Foster immediately jumped into an overview of what they knew.
They knew that one man, in his late forties, was in the house with Carolina. They also knew that the man was semi-batshit crazy thanks to a few of his offhanded comments that they could hear off the security system once we’d tapped into it.
“Our next order of business is this,” Foster went on to explain how we were going to execute the entire thing, ending with a look at me. “You stay your ass at the tent until this is over.”
“I can talk to him,” I said, voice steady as could be.
“I know you can,” Foster said. “But I have Downy here.”
I looked over my shoulder to see Downy standing behind us, arms crossed, ready to take up the mantle of negotiator like I’d never even had it before him. For the last year, it’d been all me. I’d been the one to talk to violent criminals, telling them not to make the mistake that they were about to make. To help them sort through their head, and when they wouldn’t allow that, negotiated for what they wanted.
“Downy, you ready to make the call?” I heard said but didn’t place who’d been the one to say it.
Downy nodded his head once, looking utterly capable.
Which was surprising because just as the call was placed, Michael, Carolina’s father, came running up and looking frantic with worry. Clayton was close at his side, in uniform, obviously having been the one to go get him.
That’s when the hostage negotiation started.
And the remembrance that Smoke was in there with her.
“Fuck me,” I whispered when Downy’s call connected.
“Hi,” Downy said, giving Michael a stern look that clearly said ‘calm the fuck down.’ “Who am I speaking with?”
The man cursed, there was what sounded like a struggle, and then Carolina’s voice filled the airwaves. “This is Carolina.”
Downy’s eyes, though, didn’t meet his friend’s, but mine.
“Carolina, are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m okay,” she admitted. “How are you?”
Downy’s smile was swift. “Can’t complain, darlin’. Tell me what’s going on.”
There was a long pause and then, “He doesn’t want me to say. I’m to just relay information.”
My hands clenched.
“What can you say?” Downy questioned.
“I’m allowed to talk, just not about what he’s doing here or why he’s here,” she said.
“Can he hear me?” Downy asked.
“No,” she answered. “Just me for now.”
“Where is he?” Downy asked.
“Umm,” she hesitated.
“So, he can hear your responses, but he can’t hear my questions?” Downy guessed.
“Yes,” she answered.
“Is he in the room with you?” Downy asked.
“No,” she said.
“A room close to you? Are you in the living room?” Downy asked.
“Yes, and yes,” she answered.
“Is he in the kitchen? Possibly looking out the window?” Downy pushed.
“Yes.” She sounded relieved.
“Let me know if he moves by saying ‘maybe,’ okay?” Downy urged.
“Okay.” She sounded sick.
“I’m going to talk, but not to you, okay, honey? I won’t put you on mute until he’s listening. If he starts listening, I want you to say maybe twice,” Downy continued.
She sniffled, and that damn sound broke my fucking heart.
“Ask her if Smoke is with her,” I urged.
Downy’s eyebrows went up in surprise, but he said, “Is Smoke with you?”
She sounded relieved. “Yes.”
“Is that why he’s not in the same room as you?” Downy asked, guessing that was why.
That would’ve been my guess, too.
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Okay,” Downy said. “Keep close to Smoke. Smoke may be injured, but he’s trained to read these situations. He’ll protect you.”
He would.
Smoke was a good boy and a well-trained police K-9. The accident the other day might’ve shaken him up, but it wouldn’t have taken him down.
“Okay, darlin’. Let us talk. Ignore us. Listen. Whatever. Just don’t hang up.”
After getting her reassurances, we looked to Foster who’d been waiting in the wings showing the rest of the SWAT team who their man was. When he was done, he made it our way.
“Any ideas on who this is?” Foster asked, coming up to show me a photo of the man that was in Carolina’s house.
He didn’t look familiar at all.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t possibly related to the situation that I’d somehow found myself in.
It was as we were watching the house that I dropped the bomb.
“My father is running for president.” I paused. “Has already been president for one term years ago. Hell, he could be the enemy and I just don’t know it.”
There was silence among the men, then a dawning sense of understanding.
Especially from the man beside me.
“I guess that explains why every time I went in your house, I felt like someone was watching me,” Malachi said. “Someone was watching me, weren’t they?”
“My dad has to be protective of me,” I said. “It’s quite stifling, and the reason that I left him and the ‘son of the president life’ in the first place. Nobody really knows who I am here, so it’s been quite liberating to just be me.”
