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Sean had slippedinto the side entrance of the dining room right before the little waitress Macy had closed the door. She had seen him—had met him eye to eye. He'd put one hand on his badge and then touched his lips. She’d looked at his gun and she'd nodded just a small bit. Brave girl.
Sean had quietly nudged her down to the floor then pointed to the still unlocked door. He'd whispered for her to stay down, and get out when she could. The inn and its dining room were old. Filled with character—and nooks and crannies. Plenty of places for a man with his training to use as cover.
The gunman wasn't looking toward that teenager now.
He was fully focused on the woman he truly wanted.
LaDonna Brown, formerly known as Geena Dixon Talley.
Movement caught Sean's attention. A familiar tall man was coming through the kitchen, like he owned the place.Back military straight and command in every movement he made.
“Smith, put the damned gun down and think about this, you fool,” Fred-slash-Arthur Talley demanded. He stepped more fully into the dining room.And drew the attention his way like he had always done before. “Let my daughter go.”
“Which one, Talley? Which one? You and your fuckingwifehave ruined everything. And Pryor. He set me up. Made me come here, walked right in with that damned .45 of his to my head, then he turned around and walked right out. Probably halfway to Colorado and that wife ofhisnow. Bastard. Now I'm screwed.”
“You are pretty screwed, actually,” Devaney said. So calmly. That girl...she never let anything rattle her. Or rather, she never let it show. “Can I sit down, Jason? I'm starting to get a real headache here, from you pulling my hair. And you know, hitting me in the face with your gun a few minutes ago. That really hurt, you jackass.”
“Shut up, bitch. I told you in the car, to shut up! Damn, do you evershut up? I should have grabbed one of the other ones. They would be far less trouble thanyou!”
“Well, my sisters and I...we really don't listen all that well. We’re the bane of my father’s existence, you know. He tells us that all the time.”
“Devaney, be quiet,” her father said. Sean could hear the underlying note of panic, though only those who knew him would have. “Jason and I...we have something we need to finish, don't we?”
“Don't you get it? It was never you I needed to finish with, Talley. It was that bitch wife of yours who got away. No woman ever gets away from me. But she did. Why did she? Tell me what makes her so special?”
“I fought you that day, Jason. For my daughters. It was forthem.For the four I had toleavebecause of you. And for the baby I carried that day. You never understood that. I am amother.There wasn't anything I wouldn't do for my girls. Unlikeyourmother, I’d have died for my girls, but I will fight even harder than you can ever imagine.”
“Bullshit. You just got lucky.”
“You killed your own mother that day. And then you tried to kill Geena. That is how she was scarred. You are Morris Preston's illegitimate son by a woman named Patsy Danica Smith. You killed Patsy, and buried her on Morris Preston’s property in Wyatt Township. We told the US Marshals that, but some dirty cops in this town made my statement go away. But I have a recording, Jason. And it is hidden. Well, I have dozens of them. And all these people now know. And so do the US Marshals. Good ones now. Men and women who won’t hesitate to stop you. And…I sent a copy of our statements years ago to the FBI this morning. Right to my brother’s daughter’s office. I suspect that girl will know exactly what to do with that tape. Let my daughter go. Hurting my daughter isn't going to change one damned thing for you now.”
Sean searched the room, counting hostages, making note of potential problems, checking exits. He saw a woman under a table now. He'd seen her with some of the Talley girls before. She had her phone out. Recording.
A few others did, as well. Still others huddled behind what cover they could find.
Jason Smith-Morris had to know this was the end.
Unless he intended to go out by a bullet, he had to know this was the end.
62
Dylan had been told far toomany times that she had a real problem with impulse control. No denying that.
But her dad was in there, her mom, her sister, innocent people including a kid who probably wasn't even two years old yet. She kept making her way closer. Using the empty tables and the chairs standing like guards around them as cover.
Never in her life had she been happy to be so small until tonight. No one was lookingdown.Everyone was so focused on the man with the gun at Devaney's head.
Dylan paused for a moment. She looked around.
There. By the door. Someone hadmoved.
She looked closer, biting back a gasp.
The man she had once believed was her father's old colleague was there. He had a gun in his hand.
She knew exactly who he was.
US Marshal Sean Sutton. The man assigned to protect her mother. Uncle Sean, she’d always called that manUncle Sean.
