“Sir, he’s calling again,” Sean cut in. “We’re not going to be able to put him off for long. We have to act. Now.”
Several rounds of curses splintered the air.
Sean picked up the phone, and Ethan looked desperately at his brothers.
“Your plan is a good one,” Sam said in a low voice. “We could access the ducts in the gym. It’s not far from Rachel’s class from the diagram they’ve drawn, but it’s not so close he’ll know anything’s up.”
“Mr. Winstead, please, just calm down for just a minute. We’re doing everything we can to get your wife here just like you wanted. I’ve even personally called the judge who issued the restraining order.”
Ethan listened as Sean’s voice grew more unsettled. He couldn’t hear what the other guy was saying, but judging by Sean’s increasing agitation, it couldn’t be good.
The distant sound of a gunshot and then screams, from across the parking lot, over the phone and the assembled crowd echoed harshly through the air.
Sean went pale, and then he started redialing.
“He hung up,” Sean ground out. “I’m trying to get him or Rachel back now. Goddamn it!”
Sam grasped the chief of police’s shirt, his fists balled into tight knots as he got into the other man’s face.
“We’re going in. Arrest us later. I don’t give a fuck. But we’re going in to take this guy down.”
Chapter 11
Rachel cowered against her desk, clutching Jennifer to her side. Glass had shattered everywhere. The idiot had aimed at the window. Had his aim been off even a little, he could have easily shot one of the children. As it was, there was a good possibility he could have hit someone outside the school.
“Mr. Winstead, please,” she pleaded. “Please listen to me. I understand how upset you are. I would hate the possibility of being separated from my child, but this isn’t going to help your case any. You have to listen to me before it’s too late.”
“Stand up so I can see you,” he barked. “And leave my daughter down. You tell her to stay down.”
“Stay down,” she whispered fiercely to Jennifer. “You have to do as he says. Don’t do or say anything to upset him. You stay down and out of the way so you don’t get hurt.”
After Jennifer nodded, her eyes wild and huge against her face, Rachel slowly rose, her breath escaping in tight squeezes from her chest.
She faced the gunman, praying she had the courage to withstand whatever was to come.
“What do you know about what I’m feeling?” he demanded belligerently. “Do you have kids? Jennifer said you didn’t have none.”
The cell phone began to ring again. It had already gone through two series of rings before kicking to voicemail. The ring tone was loud in the small room and sounded abrasive.
He scowled and motioned toward it with his gun. “Turn the damn thing off. Don’t turn it back on until I tell you. Understand?”
She hastily complied, holding it up so he could see the blank screen. He nodded for her to put it back on the desk, and then he pursed his lips.
“Answer my question. You got kids?”
“Not yet,” Rachel said softly. Praying she wasn’t making a huge mistake, she said, “But I’m pregnant. With twins. I only found out this week. My husband and I have been wanting a family for a very long time.”
For a moment, the gunman’s expression softened, and then, as if reminding himself of his purpose, he raised his gun again and waved it menacingly.
“You’re lying. Trying to get in my head!”
Rachel shook her head but didn’t try to argue with him. His emotions were already all over the board.
“You get on the phone, and you tell the cops that I’m going to start shooting kids if they don’t start taking me seriously. I’m tired of being jerked around.”
Sobs rose. One of the girls started screaming, a high-pitched, shrill, hysterical scream that sounded raw and terrifying. It sent chills up Rachel’s spine, and the gunman swung in the child’s direction.
“Shut up! Quit the screaming!”
Jennifer burst from beside the desk and ran to the screaming girl. She faced her father defiantly, her eyes blazing in anger.
“Stop it, Daddy! She’s my friend. She’s scared. I’m scared. Why are you doing this? I just want to go home. We all want to go home.”
Jennifer’s father looked torn. Clear indecision tracked over his face, and the gun lowered a fraction. He stared back at Rachel as if he had no idea what to do. Rachel began to realize that he regretted his desperate act but saw no way out now. He was trapped in a nightmare of his own making.
Thinking quickly, she stepped forward to focus his attention back on her and away from the girls.
“Mr. Winstead, I have an idea,” she said quietly.
He seized on it immediately. “What? Tell me.”
“Let me call the police back and tell them that you’re going to let the children go.”
His face darkened. “Are you crazy? And lose my bargaining power?”
Rachel adamantly shook her head. “Hear me out. We’ll call it an act of good faith. It will show them you can be reasonable. I’ll tell them you’re letting the children go because you don’t want them harmed. You can keep me as your hostage. I’m pregnant with twins, Mr. Winstead. I’m your perfect hostage. They won’t want to screw this up. The media will be all over it. A pregnant woman as a hostage will be a news sensation.”
He looked befuddled. “That won’t work. Will never work.”
“You’ll still have a hostage,” Rachel gently pointed out. “But you’ll make them realize that you don’t intend to harm the children. Right now they’re likely thinking that the only way to rescue the hostages is to force their way in and kill you.”
It was another huge gamble for her to make him feel threatened, but she knew he was afraid and nervous, and she hoped that knowing he could very well die would make him more willing to make that first move.
“Jennifer stays,” the gunman said resolutely. “I won’t turn her over to her mother. Stupid bitch would take Jennifer and run. She wouldn’t care about you or anyone else. She only ever thinks of herself.”
Rachel met Jennifer’s gaze, and to Rachel’s surprise, Jennifer nodded.
“I’ll stay,” she said in a quiet, tense tone. Her voice trembled the slightestbit, but she notched her chin up and then fixed her stare on her father. “If you’ll let the rest go, I’ll stay here with Ms. Kelly and you.”
Rachel watched him, holding her breath, every part of her body held in anticipation of this huge victory. The children stared anxiously, their expressions hopeful. The entire room went silent.
The gunman thought a moment longer and finally turned back to Rachel.
“Do it. Pick up the phone and call them. Tell them I’ll let the kids go, but if they don’t deliver what I expect, I’ll kill you.”
Rachel’s hand shook as she reached for the cell phone. The wait for it to turn back on and find a signal was interminable. Finally the indicator flashed on, and she punched Sean’s number from the list of recent calls.
“Rachel?” Sean demanded as soon as the phone rang. “Tell me what’s going on. Are you all right?”
“I’m okay,” Rachel said calmly. “Listen to me. This is very important. Mr. Winstead is going to let the children go.”
“What? How the hell did you get him to agree to that? What’s going on, Rachel?”
“He’s going to keep me as his hostage, and his daughter is remaining with him as well.”
She was careful not to piss Jennifer’s father off by suggesting that Jennifer, too, was a hostage. Even if that’s exactly what she was. In his own twisted way, he cared a great deal for his daughter, and if that love was called into question, who knew how he’d react? At this point, Rachel was doing nothing to jeopardize the release of her students. She just wanted it done as quickly as possible.
“Oh hell no, Rachel. You can’t stay there with him. Tell him you have to come out too.”
“I’m his hostage, and he’s releasing all of the students,” she said, stressing the fact that all of the children were being released. “In return, for this act of good faith, he wants his demands met immediately upon the release of the kids. If his demands aren’t met, he’ll kill me.”
Sean swore softly. “I don’t know how the hell you got him to do this, sweetheart, but we’ll take it. Tell him it’s a done deal. I’ll get some damn document from the judge and have him sign it. The wife is here, but we’ve kept a lid on her because it’s likely he’s going to kill her the minute he lays eyes on her.”
Rachel agreed but she remained silent. She wanted to ask Sean what was being done, but she couldn’t.
“Ethan’s here,” Sean said in barely a whisper. “Hang in there, honey. They’ll get you out.”
Bolstered by the news that Ethan and his brothers were on the scene, she lowered the phone and looked at Mr. Winstead.
“They’ve agreed to give you signed legal documents from the judge who issued the restraining order, and your wife is here now. Let the children go, and then they’ll talk to you again to make the arrangements.”
Once more she held her breath. He paused for what seemed like an eternity as he grappled with the decision. He glanced at his daughter and then back to Rachel. He leveled the gun at her once more, his hand much steadier, almost as if the longer this went on, the more comfortable he got with holding a weapon.
He dipped the barrel toward the door and then back at Rachel. “Get them to the door. Single file. Line them up. I’ll open the door and let them out. When the last one’s out, the door closes, and you and Jennifer stay with me.”
Then he motioned for Jennifer to go stand by Rachel.
Rachel hastily nodded her agreement. “Let me line them up but I’ll stay back. I promise. I can do it from the back of the room. Can I call to let the police know the children are on their way out so that no one gets hurt?”
Grudgingly, the gunman nodded, and Rachel turned her attention on her terrified students.
“Listen to me, boys and girls. I want you to line up single file. No pushing. I need you to remain calm. Line up quickly. Once you leave the door, go straight to the bus ramp exit. Someone will be waiting for you and tell you where to go from there. Do you understand?”
There was a mad scramble as desks were shoved out of the way and children sprung up to hastily form a line.
Rachel picked up the phone and hit Sean’s number.
“Talk to me, Rachel. What’s going on?” Sean asked.
“They’re coming out,” she said calmly. She nodded in Mr. Winstead’s direction.
He pointed the gun squarely at her as he opened the door. She leaned her hip into the desk, positioning herself between Jennifer and her father.
“Go now,” she told the children while she kept the line open. “Someone will be waiting at the bus ramp exit.”
“You got it,” Sean said. “We’ll have officers there to guide them out safely. You’re amazing, Rachel. Sit tight, sweetheart.”
Rachel hung up so she wouldn’t anger the gunman and watched the last of the children hurry from the classroom.
When the last child was through the door, Mr. Winstead firmly shut it and then turned back to Rachel.
The ceiling above them exploded, plaster pelting down over their heads. Men dropped down onto the floor, forming a barrier between her and the gunman.
The gunman’s expression turned from initial shock and befuddlement to one of fury as he realized what was happening.
“You fucking bitch! You lied!”
He raised the gun, and in that instant, Ethan took a step sideways, maneuvering himself in front of Rachel, and took the bullet right to the chest.
Chapter 12
“No!” Rachel screamed.
Sam and Garrett both dove for the gunman, taking him down hard. Jennifer screamed and tried to run to her father, but Joe swept her into his arms and turned, holding her so she wouldn’t see what was going on.
Rachel dropped to the floor, sobs welling from her throat in ragged, raw bursts. She covered Ethan with her own body, screaming for him to wake up, to be all right.
She wiped her hands frantically over his body, searching for the source of the blood she knew would be covering him. But her hands came away clean.
The scuffle went on around her. Jennifer’s sobbing rose with Rachel’s own. And then there was a gentle touch on her shoulder as Donovan moved in beside her.
“Rachel, honey, it’s okay. It’s all right. I promise.”
“No,” she sobbed. “He shot Ethan. Oh my God, he shot Ethan. Help him, Van. Please. Don’t let him die.” She pushed at Ethan again. “Please don’t die, Ethan,” she begged.
