Hostage

19

Friday, 11:52 P.M.

TALLEY

Talley checked the time, then took out the Watchman’s Nokia and checked its charge. Crazy thoughts of holding a gun to the doctor’s head flashed like pinwheels through his mind. Smith knew who was behind this. Smith knew who had his family. Talley paced the mouth of the cul-de-sac, his thoughts kaleidoscoping between Amanda and Jane, and Dennis Rooney. Maddox and Ellison had the phone again, but Dennis refused to answer their calls and had taken his own phone off the hook. Talley sensed that Dennis was working through something, but Talley didn’t know what.

When the phone rang Talley again thought it was the Nokia, but it was his private line.

Larry Anders said, “Chief? Can you talk?”

Anders’s voice was low, as if he were trying to keep his words private. Talley lowered his own voice even though no one was near.

“Go, Larry.”

“I’m with Cooper here in the city planner’s office. Man, that guy was pissed. He didn’t want to get up.”

Talley took out his notepad.

“First tell me about the cell number. You run that yet?”

“I had to get a telephone for that. It’s unlisted, so the cell company didn’t want to release.”

“Telephone” meant that Anders had to get a telephonic search warrant.

“Okay.”

“The number is registered to Rohiprani Bakmanifelsu and Associates. It’s a jewelry company in Beverly Hills. You want me to try to contact them?”

“Forget it. It’s a dead end.”

Talley knew without hearing more that the cell number had been cloned and stolen. Since Bakmanifelsu hadn’t yet deactivated it, he hadn’t yet discovered the pirated activity on his account; the number had probably been cloned within his past billing period.

“What about the Mustang?”

“There’s nothing, Chief. I ran wants for the past two model years. We got sixteen hits for cars that were still unrecovered, but nothing green came up.”

“Were any of them stolen today?”

“No, sir. Not even in the past month.”

Talley let it go.

“Okay. What about the building permits?”

“We can’t find any of that, but we might not need’m. The planner knew the developer who opened York Estates, a man named Clive Briggs. It used to be nothing but avocado orchards out there.”

“Okay.”

“I just got off the phone with him. He says that the contractor who built the Smiths’ house is probably at Terminal Island.”

Terminal Island was the federal prison in San Pedro.

“What do you mean, probably?”

“Briggs didn’t know for sure, but he remembered the contractor. The guy’s name was Lloyd Cunz. Briggs remembers because he liked the guy’s work so much that he tried to hire him for another development he had goin’, but Cunz turned him down. He was based in Palm Springs, he said, and they didn’t want to take any more long-range jobs.”

“The contractor came all the way from Palm Springs?”

“Not just the contractor. He brought his crew: the carpenters, the cement people, plumbers, electricians, everybody. He didn’t hire anyone locally. He said it was to keep up the quality of the work. Three or four years later, Briggs tried to hire Cunz again and learned that he’d been indicted on racketeering and hijacking charges. He was out of business.”

Talley knew that a builder wouldn’t bring an entire construction crew that far unless he was building something he didn’t want the locals to know about. Talley already had a sense of where this was going. Organized crime.

“Did you run Cunz through the computer yet?”

“Well, I’m still here at the planner.”

“When you get back to the office, run him and see what you get.”

“You’re thinking these guys are in organized crime, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, Larry. That’s what I’m thinking. Let me know what you find.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“No. Don’t.”

Talley closed his phone and stared at the cul-de-sac. Walter Smith was almost certainly a member of organized crime. The Watchman was probably his partner, and the disks probably contained evidence that could put them away. The pressure he felt was like an inflating balloon in his head and chest. Talley knew that he was losing control of the scene, and of the events that would soon happen. When the Watchman’s phony FBI agents arrived, he would have even less control, and that would put the people in the house in even greater jeopardy. The Watchman didn’t care who died; he just wanted the disks.

Talley wanted the disks, too. He wanted to know what was on them. These people would never have taken Talley’s family if the disks in Smith’s house didn’t pose a terrible threat to them. They feared those disks being discovered more than they feared the investigation that would come from having kidnapped Talley’s family. They figured they could survive the investigation, but they knew the disks would make them fall. That meant the disks named names.

Talley believed that he and his family would not survive the night. The men in the car, they could not afford to trust that the police couldn’t build a case against them for what was happening here. They would not take that chance. Talley was absolutely certain that as soon as the Watchman had the disks, he would murder all three of them. Talley wanted the disks first. He thought he knew how to get them.

Talley trotted into the cul-de-sac to join Maddox and Ellison at their car.

“He answer your calls yet?”

Ellison sipped black coffee from a Styrofoam cup.

“Negative. Phone company says he’s still got it unplugged.”

“You guys have a P.A. in this car?”

“No. What’re you thinking?”

Talley duck-walked to the lone Bristo car that remained in the street. He grabbed the mike, then flipped on the public address system. Maddox had followed him over, curious.

“What are you doing?”

“Sending a message.”

Talley keyed the mike.

“This is Talley. I need you to call me.”

His voice echoed over the neighborhood. The officers around the perimeter glanced at him.

“If it’s safe, call me.”

Talley didn’t expect Rooney to call. He wasn’t talking to Rooney.

Rooney’s voice answered from the house.

“Fuck you!”

Ellison laughed.

“It was a good try.”

Maddox said, “What was that about being safe?”

Talley didn’t answer. He tossed the microphone into the car, then crept to the far side of the cul-de-sac, where he sat on the curb behind the patrol cars. He wanted the boy. He hoped that Thomas would understand that Talley had been asking him to call.

His phone rang almost at once.

“Talley.”

It was Sarah, sounding excited.

“Chief, it’s the little boy again.”

Talley’s heart raced. If Smith couldn’t tell him who had his family, maybe the disks could.

“Thomas? You okay, son?”

The boy sounded calm.

“I wasn’t sure you were talking to me. Is my daddy okay?”

This time Thomas sounded even more hushed than before, his voice a whisper. Talley turned up the volume on his phone, but still could barely hear him.

“He’s in the hospital over in Canyon Country. What about you and your sister? Are you all right?”

“Yeah. She’s not in her room anymore. They took her downstairs. I thought they were doing something bad to her, but they didn’t know how to use the microwave.”

“Are you in any danger right now?”

“Uh-uh.”

Talley stared out of the cul-de-sac. The Sheriff’s tactical units were in their positions behind the radio cars. Hicks and Martin would be in the command van, waiting for something to happen. Talley remembered his first day with SWAT, how a sergeant-supervisor told him that SWAT stood for Sit, Wait, and Talk. Talley’s eyes welled as he fought to control his fear. He put his thoughts on the children in the house. If Talley thought either Thomas or Jennifer was in immediate mortal danger, he would launch the breach. He would launch without hesitation. He believed that they were not.

“How’s your battery on that cell phone?”

“Ah, it’s showing half a charge, maybe a little less. I turn it off when I’m not using it.”

“Good. Can you plug it into a charger when you’re not using it?”

“Uh-uh. All the chargers are downstairs. My mom does that ’cause everyone else forgets.”

Talley worried that if the boy’s battery failed, they would lose communication, but all he could do was press ahead and move fast.

“Okay, Thomas, turn it off when we’re not talking and conserve as much power as possible, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Your dad has business partners. Do you know who they are?”

“Uh-uh.”

“He ever mention names?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Was he working in his office today?”

“Uh-huh. He was trying to finish something because a client was coming to pick it up.”

Talley had trouble taking it to the next level, but he knew that this boy was his wife’s and daughter’s only chance.

“Thomas, I need your help with something. It might be easy or it might be dangerous. If you think those guys in there could find out and hurt you, then I don’t want you to do it, okay?”

“Sure!”

The boy was excited. He was a boy. He didn’t understand risk.

“Your dad has a couple of computer disks. I’m not sure, but they’re probably on his desk or in his briefcase. He was probably working with them today. They’re called Zip disks. You know what that is?”

Thomas made a derisive snort.

“I’ve had a Zip drive for years, Chief. Jeez. Zip disks are big and thick. They hold more information than regular disks.”

“These disks are labeled Disk One and Disk Two. When you’re downstairs in the office again, could you get to your dad’s desk? Could you find those disks and try to see whose files they are?”

“No, they wouldn’t let me go to the desk. Dennis makes me sit on the floor.”

The slim hope that Talley had felt only moments before withered. Then Thomas went on.

“But I might be able to sneak into the office if they’re not around. Then I could just swipe the disks and open them on my computer up here in my room.”

“I thought they locked you in your room.”

“They do, but I can get out.”

“You can?”

Talley listened as Thomas described being able to move through the crawl space in the eaves and attic, and how he was able to emerge in different parts of the house through access hatches.

“Thomas, could you get to his office that way, through the crawl space?”

“Not into his office, but I can get into the den. There’s a service door in the wine cellar behind the bar. It’s right across from my dad’s office. My mom says she can always tell when he sneaks across one time too many.”

Talley’s hope surfaced again, but it was dampened by the knowledge that he could not allow this child to risk his life.

“That sounds too dangerous.”

“It won’t be if they don’t see me. Mars spends most of his time in the office, but Kevin is back by the French doors. Dennis walks around a lot. He stays in the safety room sometimes, the one where all the monitors are. But once I’m in the den, all I have to do is sneak across the entry and go to my dad’s desk. That wouldn’t take any time at all.”

Talley thought it through, trying not to let the need he felt cloud his judgment. He would have to get all three subjects away from that area of the house. He would have to blind the cameras in case one or all of the subjects were in the safety room with the monitors.

“If I could get Rooney and the others away from the office, do you think you could get the disks without being caught?”

“No problemo.”

“Could you do it in the dark?”

“I do stuff like that almost every night.”

Thomas laughed when he said it. Talley didn’t laugh. He was supposed to help this child; now he wanted this child to help him. He felt as much a hostage as Thomas or Jane, and hoped that he could forgive himself for what he was about to do.

“All right, son. Let’s figure this out.”

The night air was so clear that the houses and cars and cops in the street all seemed etched in glass. House lights, street lamps, and the red flares of cigarettes were hard sharp points of glare; overhead, the helicopters floated against the star field like nighthawks balanced on the sky, waiting for something to die. Talley checked his watch and knew the Watchman would call again soon. Thomas was still up in his room and the sister was still cooking, but that could change at any moment. Talley didn’t have much time.

Talley found Jorgenson and brought him to the Department of Water and Power truck. The DWP technician, a young guy with a shaved head and a braided chin beard, was stretched across the bench seat of his truck, sleeping. Talley shook his foot.

“Can you cut the power to the house?”

The service tech rubbed at his face, blotchy with sleep.

“I could do that, yeah. Good to go.”

“Not now. You turn it off, that means all the power in the house goes off, not just in part of the house?”

Talley couldn’t afford a mistake, and neither could Thomas.

The tech slid out of his truck. The manhole was open. A short aluminum fence circled it as a warning.

“Not just the one house, the entire cul-de-sac. I control the branch line from here. I cut the juice, it’s all going dead. If I set up there in the cul-de-sac I could cut it just to a single house, but they told me out here.”

“Out here is fine. How long does that take, to cut the power?”

“On-off, like flipping a switch.”

“The phones won’t be affected?”

“I got nothin’ to do with that.”

Talley left Jorgenson with the technician, then radioed Martin to have Hicks and Maddox meet him at the command van. Martin answered stiffly.

“Listen, I appreciate that you talked Rooney into releasing Mr. Smith, but then you walked away without a word. You want command, you have to stay available. We might have needed to clear an action, but you weren’t here.”

Talley felt defensive, but also resentful that she was calling him on this and wasting time.

“I didn’t walk away. I was with Maddox and Ellison, and then I made some calls.”

He didn’t tell her that he had spoken with Thomas.

“You have command of this action, but please don’t try any more stunts without including me in the loop. If you want my cooperation, then you have to keep me informed.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I heard you on the public address, ordering Rooney to call you. That’s why we have negotiators.”

“Maddox was right beside me.”

“He claims you did that without consulting him.”

“Can we talk about this later, Captain? Right now I want to deal with Rooney.”

Martin agreed to have Hicks and Maddox meet him in the command van. When Talley arrived, he still did not tell them that he had spoken with Thomas again, nor the true reasons for everything he was about to do.

“We know that Rooney is sensitive to the perimeter. I want to cut the power to the house, then shake him up with a Starflash to make him start talking.”

A Starflash was a shotgun-fired grenade built of seven to twelve submunitions that exploded like a string of powerful firecrackers. It was used to disorient armed subjects during a breach.

Hicks crossed his arms.

“You’re going to fire into the house with the gas in there?”

“No, outside. We need to get his attention. The last time I pushed the perimeter, we didn’t have to call him because he called us.”

Martin glanced at Maddox. Maddox nodded. So did Hicks. Martin shrugged, then looked back at Talley.

“I guess you’re in command.”

They were on.

THOMAS

Thomas listened at his door. The hall was quiet. He edged back along the walls to his closet, and then into the crawl space. He stopped to listen at each vent. Jennifer was still in the kitchen, but he couldn’t hear anyone else. All he needed was a laugh or cough or sneeze to fix their locations, but he heard nothing.

Thomas’s house was shaped like a short, wide U with the wide base of it facing the cul-de-sac and the stubby arms reaching toward the pool. Most of the crawl space followed the inside of the U except for a branch into a dead space above the wine cellar. Thomas had always thought it weird that they called it a cellar when it was just a little room behind the bar in the den.

It wasn’t easy to reach. The wine cellar had its own air-conditioning system, a single compressor that hung in the dead space, suspended from the rafters by four chains and filling the crawl space with its width. Thomas had to wiggle under the compressor to reach the hatch on the far side; there was no way around. Thomas had squeezed under it before, but not often, and he was smaller then. He lay on his back and inched under. Flat like that, his nose still scraped the compressor’s smooth flat bottom. It smelled damp.

When he reached the hatch side of the compressor he was wet with sweat. The dust that covered him turned to slick mud. It had taken a lot longer to get under it than he thought.

Thomas listened at the access hatch. After a few seconds, he slowly lifted the hatch. The wine cellar was empty and dark. It was a long narrow room lined with floor-to-ceiling wine racks, kept at a chilly fifty-two degrees. Thomas clicked on his flashlight, wedged it in the rack against one of the bottles, then turned himself around to dangle his feet and feel for footing. In a few moments he had reached the floor.

He eased open the door. The den beyond was bright with light. He could hear the TV in his father’s office across the hall and Jennifer in the kitchen. He heard a male voice, but he couldn’t tell if it was Dennis or Mars; he was pretty sure it wasn’t Kevin.

The den was a cozy, wood-paneled room that his father used for business meetings and smoking cigars. Two dark leather couches faced each other across a coffee table, and the shelves were filled with books that his dad liked to read for fun, old books about hunting in Africa and science fiction novels that his father told him were worth a lot of money to collectors. A bar lined by four leather stools filled one side of the room. It was the one room in the house where Thomas’s mom let his father smoke, though she made him close the doors when he had the stogies fired up. Thomas’s father liked calling them “stogies.” It made him smile.

All Thomas had to do to reach the office was cross the den to the double doors, then run across the hall. To his right would be the front door; to his left, the entry hall that led to the kitchen and back of the house.

Thomas took out his cell phone and turned it on.

He called Chief Talley.

TALLEY

Talley checked his radio.

“Jorgenson?”

“Here, Chief.”

“Stand by.”

Talley was at the rear of Smith’s property with a Sheriff’s tac officer named Hobbs. Hobbs had a Remington Model 700 sniper rifle fitted with a night-vision scope. The chamber was clear and the magazine empty. Talley carried a shotgun fixed with the Starflash grenade.

“Let me see.”

Talley took the rifle from Hobbs and focused the scope on the French doors. He had been peering over the top of the wall for almost six minutes, waiting for Thomas to call. Jennifer and Krupchek were in the kitchen. He thought Kevin was in the family room, but he wasn’t sure. Dennis passed through the kitchen twice. He had exited toward the master bedroom three minutes earlier and had not returned. Talley thought he was probably in the safety room, watching the perimeter on the monitors.

Talley’s phone rang. He was expecting it, but he wasn’t ready for it. He jumped, startled.

Hobbs whispered, “Easy.”

Talley handed the rifle back to Hobbs, then answered, his voice low.

“Talley.”

Thomas whispered back at him.

“Hi, Chief. I’m in the den.”

Talley watched the shadows play on the French doors.

“Okay, bud. You ready? Just like we said?”

“Yeah. I won’t get caught.”

“If there’s any chance-any!-you get back up to your room.”

Talley felt like a liar even saying it. The whole thing was a chance.

“Here we go.”

Talley keyed his shoulder mike.

“Kill the lights.”

The house plunged into darkness.

DENNIS

Dennis sat at Walter Smith’s desk, watching television. Kevin was back by the French doors, and Mars had the girl in the kitchen. All but two of the local stations had resumed regular programming, breaking in every few minutes with an aerial shot of York Estates, but the national cable channels didn’t bother. Dennis felt slighted. He watched MTV with the sound low, black guys with blond hair pretending to be gangsters. He pointed his pistol at them, try this, motherfuckers.

Dennis had progressed from vodka on the rocks to vodka from the bottle, racking his brain for a way he could escape with the money. He was pissed off and frustrated, and grew scared that Kevin was right: that he wouldn’t be able to get away with the cash, and that he would go back to being just another shitbag in a cell. Dennis took another hit of the vodka, thinking that he’d rather be dead. Maybe he should just run. Stuff his pockets with as much cash as possible, torch the friggin’ house like Mars said, then duck through the little window into the oleander and run like a bat out of hell. They would probably machine-gun him before he got ten feet, but what the hell, it was better than being a turd.

“Shit.”

Dennis left the office, went back to the bedroom, and put the suitcase on the bed. He stared at the cash. He touched the worn bills, silky smooth and soft. He wanted it so badly that his body trembled. Cars, women, clothes, dope, copper bars, Rolex watches, fine food, boats, homes, freedom, happiness. Everybody wanted to be rich. Didn’t matter who you were or where you came from or how much money you had; everyone wanted more. It was the American Dream. Money.

The notion came to Dennis like a rush of Ecstasy as he stared at the money: Cops are poor. Cops wanted to be rich like everyone else. Maybe he could split the loot with Talley, trade cash for safe passage to Mexico, work out a scam so that the other cops wouldn’t know, something like pretending to swap the hostages for Talley so that the two of them could drive down to TJ together, laughing all the way because the other cops wouldn’t dare try to assassinate him if they thought Talley’s life hung in the balance. He would even toss in Kevin and Mars; let’m have someone to swing for the Chinaman. Dennis grew excited as he spun through the possibilities. Everyone knew that cops didn’t make shit for a living. How far would Talley go for a hundred thousand dollars? Two hundred thousand? A half a million?

Dennis decided to call Talley right away. He was halfway back to the office, thinking how best to persuade Talley that he could be a wealthy man, when the house died. The lights went out, the TV stopped, the background hum that fills all living homes vanished.

Kevin shouted from the other side of the house.

“Dennis? What happened?”

“It’s the cops! Get those fuckin’ kids!”

Blind in the darkness, Dennis rushed forward, following the wall. He expected to hear the doors crashing open at any second, and knew his only chance was to reach the girl or her fat brother.

“Kevin! Mars! Get those kids!”

Milky light from the French doors filled the family room. Kevin was behind the sofa; Mars was in the kitchen, holding the girl by her hair. Mars was smiling, the crazy bastard. Like this was fun.

“Told you they’d cut the power.”

Talley’s amplified voice echoed through the house, not from the street this time, but from the backyard.

“Dennis? Dennis Rooney?”

Dennis wondered why Talley was behind the house.

“Dennis, it’s time to talk.”

Then the backyard erupted: Explosions jumped and careened over the surface of the water like automatic gunfire. Star-bright flashes lit the backyard like a Chinese New Year parade. The world was going to hell.

Dennis threw himself behind the kitchen counter, waiting for it to end.

THOMAS

Thomas pushed out of the wine cellar as soon as the lights went off, slipped around the end of the bar, and scurried to the double doors. Dennis and Kevin were shouting, their voices coming from the family room. He knew he wouldn’t have much time.

Thomas got down on his hands and knees, and peeked through the doorway. Across the hall, his father’s office flickered with light from the candles. Thomas leaned farther out into the entry to see if anyone was coming. The hall was empty.

No guts, no glory.

Thomas ran across the hall into his father’s office just as Chief Talley’s voice boomed through the house. He knew that something loud was going to go off, so he tried to ignore all that. He concentrated on listening for footsteps.

Thomas went directly to the computer on his father’s desk. He had brought his flashlight, but the candles gave enough light so that he didn’t need it. The desk was scattered with papers, but he didn’t see any disks. He checked the computer’s Zip drive. It was empty. He lifted the papers around the computer and keyboard, but he didn’t see any disks there, either.

A series of explosions cut through the house like a giant string of firecrackers. Thomas thought Dennis was shooting. Kevin shouted something, but Thomas didn’t understand him. He was scared that they were on their way. He ran to the door to go back into the den, but stopped at the hall, listening. His heart pounded so loud he could barely hear, but he didn’t think they were coming.

Chief Talley had told him not to spend more than a minute or two. He didn’t have much time. He had used too much already.

Thomas looked across the entry hall to the safety of the den, then glanced back at the desk. A picture flashed in Thomas’s memory: Earlier that day, after all the shooting, his father had tried to talk Dennis into getting a lawyer and giving up; he had gone to his desk, placed the disks in a black case, and put the case into the drawer. The disks were in the drawer!

Thomas went back to the desk.

DENNIS

The back of the house exploded with noise and light as if the Marines were hitting the beach. Dennis saw cops at the wall, lit by the glare from their lights, but they didn’t rush the house.

Dennis thought, What the fuck?

Talley’s voice echoed from the backyard.

“It’s time to talk, Dennis. Me and you. Face-to-face. I want you to come out, just you, I’ll meet you and we’ll talk.”

Kevin scrambled into the kitchen on all fours, fast, like a cartoon.

“What are they doing? What’s going on?”

Dennis didn’t know. He was confused and suspicious, and then suddenly very afraid.

“Mars! Those fuckers are trying to blindside us! See what they’re doing in front!”

Dennis grabbed the girl from Mars, who lurched to his feet and went down the hall.

THOMAS

The black leather case was a soft black leather folder about the size of a compact disk. The candlelight behind the desk was too dim to see into the drawer, so Thomas turned on his flashlight, cupping the lens to hide most of the light.

The case was in the top drawer.

It opened like a book. Each side had pockets to hold disks. Two disks were in the right pockets, labeled just as Chief Talley had described, Disk One and Disk Two. Thomas was closing the drawer when he heard footsteps coming fast down the hall.

Thomas wanted to run, but it was too late.

The footsteps came fast!

They were coming to the office!

They were at the door!

Thomas turned off his flashlight and ducked under the desk. He pulled himself into a tight ball, hugging his knees, and he tried not to breathe.

Someone was in the room.

His father’s desk was a great oak monster, heavy and ancient and as big as a boat (his dad jokingly called it the Lexington, after the aircraft carrier). It sat on curvy legs that left a small gap between the desk and the floor. Thomas saw feet. He thought it was Mars, but he couldn’t be sure.

The feet went to the window.

Thomas heard the shutters snap open. Light from outside poured into the room. The shutters snapped closed.

The feet stayed at the shutters. Thomas imagined he must be peeking through the cracks.

Dennis shouted from the back of the house.

“What in hell’s going on out there?”

It was Mars in the room. He stood at the shutters without moving.

“Goddamnit, Mars!”

The feet stepped away from the window, but Mars didn’t leave. The feet turned toward the desk. Thomas tried to squeeze himself smaller. He hugged his legs so tight that his arms hurt.

The feet took a step toward the desk.

“Mars! What the fuck are they doin’?”

The feet walked to the end of the desk. Thomas tried to close his eyes; he tried to look away, but he couldn’t. He watched the feet as if they were snakes.

“Mars!”

The feet turned and left. Thomas followed them with his ears, down the hall, away, gone.

Thomas scrambled from under the desk and went to the door. He peeked down the hall, then ran across to the den. He heard Chief Talley talking over the public address system as he pushed into the wine cellar, climbed the racks, and found the safety of the crawl space.

TALLEY

Talley knew that Rooney and the others would be panicked. They would believe that Talley had launched a breach and Dennis or one of the others would probably run to the front of the house to see what the Sheriffs were doing. Talley had to keep their attention focused here at the back of the house. On him.

“Is he still in the kitchen?”

Hobbs was peering through the night-vision scope.

“Yeah, him and the girl. He’s trying to see us, but he can’t see past the lights. The big one went down the hall. I don’t see the brother.”

Talley keyed the portable P.A.

“We are not breaching the house, Dennis. We need to talk. Me and you. Face-to-face. I’m coming out to the pool.”

Martin and Hicks hustled toward him through the shadows. Martin wasn’t happy.

“What face-to-face? We didn’t discuss that.”

“I’m going out.”

Talley dropped the P.A. and heaved himself over the wall before she could say anything more. He wanted to draw Rooney’s attention away from the front of the house even if it meant offering himself up to do it.

Martin’s voice followed him over the wall.

“Damnit, Talley, all you’ll do is make yourself a target.”

Talley walked to the edge of the pool and raised his voice.

“I’m unarmed. I’m not going to strip for you this time, so take my word for it. I’m unarmed, and I’m coming alone.”

Talley held his hands out from his sides, open palms forward, and walked toward the house along the side of the pool. A dark raft floated effortlessly on the water. A towel was spread on the deck, the radio that had played earlier silent, its batteries dead.

He reached the end of the pool nearest the house and stopped. A flashlight lay on the kitchen floor, its beam cutting a white slash that bounced off the counters. Talley raised his hands higher. Again, the bright lights behind him cast his shadow toward the house. It looked like a crucifix.

“Come out, Dennis. Talk to me.”

Dennis shouted from the house, his voice muffled through the closed French doors.

“You’re fucking crazy!”

“No, Dennis. I’m tired.”

Talley walked closer.

“No one’s going to hurt you. Not unless you hurt those kids.”

Talley stopped outside the French doors. He could see Dennis and Jennifer plainly now. Dennis held the girl with one hand, a pistol with the other. A shadow moved to Talley’s left, deep in the family room, and Talley saw a slender figure. Kevin. He looked like a child. On the other side of the kitchen, opposite the family room, a hall disappeared into the house. Talley saw a flickering glow from a door. A large shape blocked the light, growing in the shadows. That would be Krupchek. Talley felt a well of relief; wherever the boy was, they didn’t have him. He had to keep them focused. He spread his hands wider. He went closer.

“I’m standing here, Dennis. I’m looking at you. Come out and let’s talk.”

Talley heard them talking, Dennis calling Kevin into the kitchen. Krupchek stood at the mouth of the hall now, floating in the darkness. He held something in his hands, a flashlight, a gun, Talley couldn’t tell.

Dennis got to his feet and came to the French doors. He looked out past Talley, then tried to see the sides of the house, probably thinking he would be rushed if he opened the doors. Talley spoke calmly.

“No one here but me, Dennis. You have my word.”

Dennis placed his gun on the floor, then pushed open the door and stepped out. Talley knew that people always looked heavier in pictures, but Rooney was shorter and thinner than Talley would have guessed from the videotape, and younger.

Talley smiled, but Rooney didn’t smile back.

“How ya doin’, Dennis?”

“Had better days.”

“This has been a long one, I’ll hand you that.” Dennis tipped his head toward the far wall.

“You got a sniper out there, gonna shoot me?”

If you tried to grab me, they probably would. Otherwise, no. We could have shot you from the wall if we wanted to do that.”

Dennis seemed to accept that.

“Can I come out there, closer to you?”

“Sure. It’s all right.”

Dennis stepped away from the door and joined Talley out by the foot of the pool. Dennis took a deep breath, looking up at the stars as he let it out.

“Good to be outside.”

“I guess.”

Talley said, “I’m going to lower my arms, okay?”

“Sure.”

Talley could see Kevin still with the girl in the kitchen and Krupchek still in the hall. The boy was inside somewhere, getting the disks. Talley hoped it wouldn’t take long.

Talley said, “We’ve been at this a long time now. What are you waiting for?”

“Would you be in a hurry to go to prison for the rest of your life?”

“I’d be doing everything I can to get the best deal possible. I’d let these people go, I’d cooperate, I’d let a lawyer do my talking. I’d be smart enough to realize that I’m surrounded by police officers and I’m not getting out of here except through their good graces.”

“I want that helicopter.”

Talley shook his head.

“It’s what I said before, where’s it going to land? I can’t give you a helicopter. That’s not going to happen.”

“Then a car. I want a car to take me to Mexico, a car and an escort and a free pass south of the border.”

“We’ve been through that.”

Rooney seemed to be working himself up to something. He waved his arm in a flash of anger.

“Then what fuckin’ good are you?”

“I’m trying to save your life.”

Dennis glanced back into the house. Talley watched him, thinking that Rooney showed the day’s strain. Finally, Rooney faced him again and lowered his voice still more.

“Are you a rich man?”

Talley didn’t answer. He didn’t know where Rooney was taking this. He had learned to let them get wherever they were going on their own.

Rooney patted his pocket.

“Can I reach in here, show you something?”

Talley nodded.

Rooney stepped closer. Talley couldn’t make out what Rooney took from his pocket at first, but then he saw that it was money. Rooney seemed to be trying to shield it so that only Talley could see.

“That’s fifty one-hundred-dollar bills, Chief. Five thousand dollars. I got a whole suitcase of this stuff in the house.”

Rooney pushed the bills back into his pocket.

“How much would it be worth to you, getting me out of here? A hundred thousand dollars? You could drive me down to Mexico, just me and you, no one the wiser, just tell the others that was the deal we made without mentioning any money. I wouldn’t tell. They got money in this house, Chief. More money than you’ve ever seen in your life. We could carve it up.”

Talley shook his head.

“You picked a bad house to hole up in, Dennis.”

“Two hundred thousand, cash, hundred-dollar bills, right in your pocket, no one needs to know.”

Talley didn’t answer. He wondered about Smith, what he did here in the middle of nowhere, here in the safe, anonymous community of Bristo Camino, with so much cash and information in his house that this kid was willing to die for it and the men in the car were willing to kill for it. Do you ever really know your neighbors?

“Give up, Dennis.”

Rooney wet his lips. His eyes flicked past Talley again, then back.

“You tryin’ to drive up the price? Okay, three hundred. Three hundred thousand dollars. Could you ever earn that much? You can have Mars and Kevin. Fuckin’ bust them. Make that part of the deal.”

“You don’t know what you’re dealing with. You can’t buy your way out of this.”

“Everybody wants money! Everybody! I’m not giving this up!”

Talley stared at him, wondering how far to go. If Rooney quit now, Amanda and Jane might pay for it. But if Rooney quit now, walked out right now, Talley would have the disks. Once the Watchman’s people arrived, Talley might not have the chance.

“This house isn’t what you think it is. You believe some guy has this kind of cash just laying around in his house?”

“There’s a million bucks in there, maybe two million! I’ll give you half!”

“The man you sent to the hospital, Walter Smith, he’s a criminal. That money belongs to him.”

Rooney laughed.

“You’re lying. What a crock of shit.”

“He has partners, Dennis. This is their house, and they want it. The way I’m offering is the only way out for you.”

Rooney stared at him, then rubbed at his face.

“Fuck you, Talley. Just fuck you. You think I’m an idiot.”

“I’m telling you the truth. Give up. Work with me here, and at least you’ll have your life.”

Rooney sighed, and Talley could see the sadness settle over him like a cloak.

“And what’s that worth?”

“Whatever you make of it.”

“I’ll go back in now. I’ll think about it and give you my answer tomorrow.”

Talley knew that Dennis was lying. Talley had a sense for when they would give up and when they wouldn’t, and Rooney had hold of something he couldn’t turn loose.

“Please, Dennis.”

“Fuck off.”

Rooney backed to the door, then stepped inside and pulled it closed. The darkness inside swallowed him like dirty water.

Talley turned back to the officers lining the wall and walked away, praying that Thomas had the disks and was safe. Rooney wasn’t the only one holding on to something he couldn’t turn loose.