Roses Are Red

Chapter Seventeen

I accompanied Kyle and his first-team entourage to FBI headquarters in downtown Washington. We were all feeling a little sick about the murder scene we'd witnessed. Agent Cavalierre did know a great deal about bank robberies, including several committed in the Midwest that resembled the Citibank and First Union jobs.

At headquarters, she pulled up as much relevant information as she could get in a hurry. We read printouts about a pair of desperadoes named Joseph Dougherty and Terry Lee Connor. I wondered if their exploits might have served as some kind of model for the two recent robberies. Dougherty and Connor had hit several banks in the Midwest. They would usually kidnap the manager's family first. Before one robbery, they held the manager and his family for three days over a holiday weekend, then robbed the bank on a Monday.

"There's a big difference, though. Dougherty and Connor never hurt a soul in any of the robberies," Cavalierre said. "They weren't killers like this current scum we're dealing with. What the hell do they want?"

I made myself go home around seven that night. I had a home-cooked dinner with Nana and the kids: Shallow-fried chicken, cheese grits, and steamed broccoli. After we did the dishes, Damon, Jannie and I trooped down to the basement for the kids' weekly boxing lesson. The boxing lessons have been going on for a couple of years and aren't really necessary for Damon and Jannie anymore. Damon is a clever ten, Jannie's eight, and they can both defend themselves. But they like the exercise and the camaraderie, and so do I. What happened that night came out of the blue. It was unannounced and totally unexpected. Afterward, once I knew what had happened, I understood why.

Jannie and Damon were fooling around, showing off a little, strutting their stuff. Jannie must have walked into a punch from Damon.

The looping blow struck her squarely in the forehead, just above the left eye. That much I'm certain about. The rest was a blur to me. A complete shock. It was as if I was seeing life as a series of stop-motion photos.

Jannie tilted to the left and she went down in a frightening collapse. She hit the floor hard. Her movements suddenly became jerky, and then her limbs went completely stiff. There was absolutely no warning.

"Jannie!" Damon yelled, aware that he'd hit and hurt his sister, though it was an accident.

I hurried to her side as Jannie's body began to shake and spasm uncontrollably. Soft, gagging moans came from her throat. She obviously couldn't speak. Then her eyes rolled way back until only the whites showed.

Jannie began to choke horribly. I yanked off my belt. I folded it and wedged it into her mouth, to keep her from swallowing her tongue, or possibly lacerating it with a hard bite. My heart was pounding as I held the tightly folded belt in her mouth. I kept telling her, "It's okay, it's okay, Jannie. Everything is okay, baby."

I tried to be as soothing as I possibly could be. I tried not to let her see how scared I was. The violent spasms wouldn't stop. I was pretty sure Jannie was having a seizure.