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Looking at the buildings flashing past, Josie calculated it would take ten, possibly fifteen minutes for them to arrive. “My God, Noah, hurry,” she said.
He hammered the heel of his palm against the horn, beeping at the two vehicles in front of them. They pulled to the side and let him pass, although one of the drivers gave them the finger. “She’ll be okay,” Noah said.
“We don’t know that,” Josie said. Her stomach was in her throat. All the coffee she’d had that morning threatened to come back up.
Noah sped up, beeping any time a car got in front of them or a pedestrian hinted at moving into the street. “This guy is supposed to be in jail. What the hell happened?”
“Dermot Hadlee happened,” Josie said. “He’s got sway in Everett County.”
“Well, he doesn’t have shit in our city. Why didn’t Anya call 911?”
On Josie’s phone, Anya said,“There is nothing for us to discuss, Vance. Please leave now.”
Josie said, “Because she would have to tell the 911 operator what was happening. That would take time and she’d have to do it in front of him. I already know the history—and the danger—so she figured either I’d pick up and hear them and race over there or it would go to my voicemail, and I’d have a recording of what could be her last moments.”
Noah took another turn so sharply that the tires squealed. “We’re not going to let that happen.”
Vance was talking now.“…think I’m leaving now? After all these years of you hiding from me? You’re out of your mind. You’re gonna pay for what you put me through, you stuck-up bitch.”
Acid burned the back of her throat. “Noah,” she croaked.
Vance’s voice stopped abruptly. Sirens sounded in stereo—coming from the receiver and outside the car—as Noah screeched onto Anya’s block. Mettner’s car and a patrol unit had pulled up in front of Anya’s quaint little townhouse.
Josie thought she heard Vance’s voice say,“What the fu—”before the sounds of men’s voices drowned it out.
The car lurched as Noah stopped behind Mettner’s vehicle. They jumped out together. Josie pocketed her phone and put a hand on her pistol grip. They’d put their vests on before they left the house. Racing up the front lawn, Josie took in the scene. The front door was ajar. One uniformed officer circled to the back of the house while the other followed Mettner inside.
Vance’s voice sounded from inside. “What the hell is this? You called the damn cops? You bitch!”
Josie was through the door last. The living room looked just as it had the few times Josie had been there: decorated in whites and yellows. A small couch and wingback chair. Coffee table. Television atop a small console. Fresh flowers and bright pastel abstract paintings. She had expected destruction, but everything was in its place. Vance stood in the center of the living room while Anya stayed behind the chair. Through the crush of bodies now filling the room, Josie met Anya’s eyes. Fear gave way to guarded relief. Josie edged around the wall of officers facing Vance and took her hand off her pistol grip to reach out to Anya. Her clammy hand seized on Josie’s, squeezing hard. Josie pulled Anya away, toward the kitchen but still within view of the living room.
Mettner said, “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to come with me.”
“Fuck you,” Vance said, spitting at Mettner. It landed on his shirt, but he didn’t move. Didn’t even acknowledge it, which seemed to make Vance even angrier. “You got a personal problem with me, pig?”
Mettner said, “I’m just doing my job, sir, and right now, that’s asking you to come with me.”
The uniformed officer moved closer, and Vance backed away. “You’re kidding me, right? I’m talking to my wife.”
“Your ex-wife,” Noah corrected. “You’re not welcome in her home.”
“The hell I’m not,” Vance said.
Mettner said, “Mr. Hadlee, let’s step outside and talk.”
Vance panned the room, that cocky smirk curling his upper lip. “Four police officers to ‘talk’ to me for wanting to see my damn wife? Are you nuts? This is police brutality. You better believe I’m going to sue the shit out of your department. I’ll have every single one of you in the unemployment line in a month. Don’t believe me? Look how fast I got out of the trouble you tried to put on me yesterday.”
Mettner said, “You’re welcome to take up any claims you believe you have against us with an attorney at a later time. Right now, come with us.”
When he didn’t move, Mettner calmly spoke again, “Mr. Hadlee, we can do this the easy way, where you step outside and talk with us, or we can do this the hard way where we arrest you. Your choice.”
Noah said, “Let’s go.”
Vance did not cooperate, instead taking a slow scan of the room. Josie’s heartbeat ticked upward. Then she caught a glimpse of the agility that had made him a football star in high school. Moving so quickly that he was little more than a blur, he charged forward. All of them yelled at once, instructing him to stop, but it was too late. Vance was already flying toward Mettner. Before anyone could react, Vance slammed into him. The two of them fell to the floor. Noah and the uniformed officer descended on Vance, yanking him away from Mettner, but not before he landed a punch just beneath Mettner’s left eye. Seconds later, Vance’s face was mashed into Anya’s carpet. The uniformed officer snapped on a pair of cuffs while Noah read him his rights.
Josie left Anya in the kitchen doorway and went to Mettner, offering him a hand. She helped him up while Noah and the uniformed officer carried a squirming, protesting Vance toward the door.
“This won’t stand!” he hollered. “I’ll sue! You’ll all pay, including you, Anya. I was just trying to talk to you! Who calls the police when someone’s trying to talk?”
