The latter was one of the most common handguns. It was the exact weapon Sandra was carrying. The same brand of gun most in this vehicle had in their holsters. No one said anything for a few beats.
Gibson continued. “Duke’s relatively unscathed, just a little bruised and beaten from a brief altercation with the HT. The major injury is Edward. He was shot in the chest.”
“Near the heart?” Sandra rushed out. Thoughts of her twin brother surfaced again, and she wondered if they’d ever stop.
“Upper left side. Duke thinks it missed his heart, but he admits to only having some medical training. Before he came out, Ryan allowed him to patch up the wound as best he could.”
“There’s that at least,” Donny said.
“Still… We are talking about a chest wound.” Gibson didn’t say more since everyone could fill in the blank.It could prove fatal.The clock was working against them. “As if that’s not enough, Ryan’s drinking whiskey, and Duke is quite sure he’s drunk.”
“He was slurring when we spoke, so I believe that,” Sandra said.
“Guess he’s really coming undone. He’s losing his temper trying to get Edward to admit to knowing he’s his half-brother.”
“I wonder why that much is so important to him. He talks about how horrible the Hansons are,” Sandra pointed out. “Why the desire to connect with them?”
“Can’t tell you, but Ryan’s raving in there that Timothy killed his mother and tried to kill him too. There is a letter from the aunt that he made Edward read. Duke never read it for himself,but Ryan made Edward read it in full,” Gibson said. “The teenage girl’s emotional, and the boy’s struggling to breathe. He has asthma.”
That could be why Ryan cut one of our earlier calls short… He was concerned about the boy.Sandra needed to shut this down, help Ryan see this wasn’t the most effective way of getting heard. If only they could find someone close enough to him that might exert some influence over him. The neighbor, who was a casual friend, wouldn’t work. And bringing in Ryan’s boss from the pub would have Ryan feeling shame about his broken sobriety.
Gibson continued. “He got Duke to assemble the family in one room,” Gibson said. “Guess it’s in a central part of the home. I’ll let Kreiger know so he can update ERT.”
“Let Kreiger know what?” Kreiger entered the vehicle. His timing was both impeccable and unfortunate.
Gibson gave him a quick recap and specified, “It’s the reception room on the main floor, center of the home.”
Kreiger nodded. “Well, we’re still waiting on the blueprints for the home. They must be coming from some dusty storage room in a municipal building.”
That wasn’t the response Sandra had expected. She thought Ryan having two guns might have had the lieutenant wanting to storm in all the more. Caution to the wind and all that…
“Then Duke’s directions should be helpful,” Gibson said.
“Did you ask Duke what he thinks about all this? Does he believe Edward knows he’s Ryan’s brother?” Sandra asked.
“Duke said if Edward knows about it, he’s doing a good job of hiding it.”
Though a man like Edward Hanson would be skilled at shielding his emotions. “Which can’t be going over well.”
“It’s not.”
If Sandra could convince Ryan to put Edward on the phone, she might get him to admit to what he knew. But that approach was double-edged. It could smooth things out or make them worse. For Edward to change his story and admit to knowing about Ryan after denying it all this time, Ryan could see Edward as more of an enemy than before. It could be one more lie that proved a triggering point for something much worse.
The door opened, and Neal returned. “It’s all arranged. Officers have been sent out to speak with those secretaries. Let’s hope at least one of them can shed some light on why Susan Crawford left the company.”
There is always hope…The thought fired through Sandra’s mind, and she crossed her fingers it wasn’t misplaced.
TWENTY-TWO
2:05 PM
Ryan swigged back another shot of whiskey and paced. “Everything is ruined.” He was speaking to himself as he tugged on his hair. The gun in his hand was getting heavier while also feeling more like an extension of himself than a foreign object.
Booze was such a fine line for him. One moment it calmed his thoughts, and the next made them chaotic. Right now, they were firing off in rapid succession, all of them loud and threatening.
You’re an idiot! There is nothing stopping them from storming inside. They’ll know right where to find you now. There’s no way that security guard didn’t talk.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to tune out the noise. But the voice was right. The cops would have heard all about what was going on in here, including where they were holed up. The men out there who were armed for war were likely planning their approach right this minute. Maybe he should have everyone move somewhere else in the home.
