Crossfire

Lee was crying in his club soda again. “Forcibly take city hall for what purpose besides getting arrested? Anyway, nothing can bring Francine back.”

Kenny thought fast. “You said you wanted to make a difference? So you’re just going to give up?”

“What choice do I have? I’ve been to the city council meetings. I’m just one small voice in a city that has too many other problems to care about mine.”

“Exactly,” Kenny said. “You need to make yourself heard. If you took city hall hostage, you could demand that something be done. Hell, you would be on television. Everyone would know what happened to your wife. The city would have to do something.”

“A bit drastic—”

“Seems to me drastic measures are needed,” Kenny said, trying to come up with something to appease the old fart. “How else can you be sure that the city won’t let something like this happen again? You want your wife’s life to count for something, right? Think of the lives you might save.”

Lee was looking at him through his wire-rimmed glasses, as if actually considering what Kenny was saying. The guy tended to zone in and out, but Kenny thought he finally had the old fool’s attention.

“We both lost someone we loved because of this city, man,” Kenny said, realizing when it came down to it, he’d been wronged, too. “We can’t just sit back and do nothing.” This might actually work. “You want to get the city to listen to you? Stick with me. We’ll get their attention all right, man.”

“You would support my efforts?” Lee sounded so surprised and touched that Kenny almost laughed.

“Damn straight. You and I are going to teach this city a lesson that won’t soon be forgotten.” He patted the old man’s shoulder. “So do you think you can get yourself some firepower?”

Lee looked vague again, then nodded. “I suppose there is no other way?”

Kenny had shaken his head. “Sometimes you got to take a stand,” he’d said, already seeing how this was going to play out. The city would pay to keep the hostages alive. He’d demand five hundred thousand, a passport and a plane out of the country to some place where he couldn’t be extradited, just like the guys did on TV.

But it would only be a ticket for one. The old man wouldn’t be coming along. Kenny would make sure of that.

CHAPTER TWO

6:45 a.m. Friday

“IS THE CHIEF IN YET?” Flint Mauro asked as he walked through the employee entrance to the police station.

The desk sergeant looked up and nodded. “Said to tell you to come straight to his office. He’s waiting for you.”

Flint didn’t like the sound of that as he started down the hallway toward the watch commander’s office. He was early, but Max was already waiting for him? What the hell was that about? What the hell was any of this about?

Max’s door was closed. He tapped lightly.

“Come in,” said a gruff, impatient voice.

Flint stepped in, ready to take a good chewing out. He just wished he knew what for. “Chief,” he said.

Max motioned him into a chair without even looking up. Flint sat down uneasily and watched as his commander raked a hand through a head of thick, dark hair, then finally leaned back in his chair and looked at him, as if bracing himself for the worst.

At forty-five, the six-foot-two chief of police was as solid as a brick outhouse. He could be tough as nails, and yet normally, humor and compassion shone in his green eyes. Not this morning though.

Flint felt the full weight of his gaze. He waited, growing more worried by the moment. Something had happened, that much was clear. And it wasn’t something Flint was going to like.

“Flint, you and I have discussed at length my idea to put a paramedic on the SWAT team,” Max said after a moment.

Flint looked at him in surprise. This was what Max wanted to talk about? He relaxed a little. “And you know how I feel about it.”

Max sighed. “As you know, we had a court reporter, Lorraine Nelson, who suffered a heart attack during that shooting incident back in September. She lived, but suffered extensive damage to her heart and was forced to retire because of it. If the fire department’s paramedics could have gotten to her quicker, maybe she would have had a full recovery. George Yube died after the sniper shot him. Same story there. Had he gotten help faster, he might be alive today.” Max took a breath and let it out with a sigh. “The way it is now, we can’t get the victims any help until the area is secured. That’s not acceptable.”

“It’s not acceptable to send a paramedic into a dangerous situation until it is secured,” Flint said. “Otherwise you’re risking the paramedic’s life or simply offering the criminals another hostage. The bottom line is, we end up having another person to try to protect, as well as the victims, when our main priority is to stop the bad guy before he hurts anyone else.”

“I’ve taken all that into consideration,” Max said.

“Have you forgotten that the last time we let a paramedic in with the team, the paramedic almost got killed?”

“That paramedic wasn’t SWAT trained.”

Flint shook his head in frustration and shifted in his chair. “Why are we discussing this again? You already know my feelings on this subject and I know yours. How long are we going to debate this?”

Max tented his fingers under his chin, his gaze suddenly steely. “I didn’t ask you here to try to convince you. Or to ask for your approval.”

Flint felt his heart drop. “I see. Well, if your mind is made up, then why get me in here so damned early?” He swore under his breath as he rose to his feet. “You’re obviously moving ahead with this no matter how I feel.”

“Sit down, Flint.”

Flint dropped back into the chair with a sigh.

“I agree with all your arguments,” Max said quietly. “It is a risk, but one that I feel has to be taken for the victim’s sake.”

There was no talking Max out of this. Flint could see that now. “We have a couple of SWAT members with paramedic training who might be interested in the position, I suppose.”

Max shook his head. “I’ve found a paramedic with SWAT training and experience in situations we’ve been forced to deal with and some we haven’t yet.”

“Really?” Flint couldn’t hide his surprise. “So when does he start?” He knew his men weren’t going to like this any more than he did. This guy better be flat amazing.

There was a knock at the door. Max glanced at his watch. “The new SWAT team paramedic is here now, early, just like you were,” Max said with a wry smile as he got to his feet to answer the knock personally.

Flint turned in his chair as Max opened the door. He felt as if a Magnum .45 had been emptied into his chest when he saw the tall, slim figure framed in the doorway. He staggered to his feet, his brain telling him it was a mistake. Dear God, this couldn’t be the SWAT team paramedic.

7:15 a.m.

LORNA SINKE LOVED to get to city hall before anyone else. She lived in the older section of town, close enough to city hall that she walked to work. She liked the fresh air, the exercise and the quiet. There were few people on the streets and traffic was light this time of the morning.

She was a creature of habit, leaving her house every weekday morning at the same time. This morning was no different. Only today, she carried more than her usual lunch and thermos of coffee. Today, she had the cookies in the airtight container in her bag. They made a thumping sound as she walked, reminding her of what she planned to do before the day was over.

City hall came into view, the white-stone, three-story building shimmering in the bright blue morning. Lorna always experienced a sense of pride when she saw it. She loved the inside even more, with its ornate moldings and high ceilings.

Some people thought the old city hall building was cold and a waste of space, too much like a tomb, but Lorna loved it. A few years ago there was talk of tearing city hall down and building something modern. Over her dead body, Lorna had declared. After all the years she’d worked here, she felt as if it were her building. Fortunately the historical society had saved it. Lorna had led the charge—and made a few enemies along the way, including Councilwoman Gwendolyn Clark.

But that was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to her problems with the councilwoman. Gwendolyn Clark was on a mission to get Lorna fired, saying it was time that Lorna retired and the council got some “new blood” in the position. Over Lorna’s dead body.

Crossing Washington Avenue, she walked down Robbin Street around to the employee entrance at the rear of city hall. Kitty-corner across the intersection of Bright and 12th streets, she caught a glimpse of the police department. She’d been taken there for questioning after her parents’ deaths. The building was new and impersonal, nothing like city hall. She was glad the city had put up a tall oleander hedge along the back of city hall that hid the newer buildings. Especially the police station. The sight of it only brought back bad memories and Lorna Sinke wasn’t one to dwell in the past.

As she walked through a narrow entrance in the oleander hedge, she stopped to pick up a candy wrapper someone had irresponsibly dropped. Muttering to herself, she stuffed the candy wrapper into her bag and pulled out the key she kept on her kitten key ring.

Her mind was on the day ahead and the outcome. She felt a ripple of excitement. If this day ended the way she’d planned it, she would be free of Gwendolyn Clark.

As Lorna inserted the key into the lock, she sensed someone approaching from behind but didn’t bother to turn around. Blast the woman to hell. Gwendolyn Clark had taken it upon herself to come in at the same time as Lorna every morning for the past two weeks. The councilwoman was spying on her. Gwendolyn said she was working on a special project. Lorna knew she was that special project. The woman was trying to dig up some dirt, something she could use to get rid of Lorna.

It was all she could do not to turn around and hit the woman with the heavy bag. Of course she wouldn’t do that. She did her best not to let Gwendolyn see how she felt about her. That alone had become a full-time job and one of the reasons Lorna had decided today she’d do something about the councilwoman.

Lorna turned the key in the lock, planning to say hello to Gwendolyn, pretending, as she had been for weeks, that she didn’t suspect what the woman was up to. Today she would be especially nice to her. It would make it easier later this afternoon when Lorna offered her one of her special cookies. If there was one thing Gwendolyn Clark couldn’t pass up, it was sweets.

As the door swung open, Lorna plastered a smile on her face and turned, expecting to see Gwendolyn Clark’s round, pinched face and disapproving gaze.

To Lorna’s surprise, it wasn’t Gwendolyn behind her but an elderly police officer, gray-haired, slim, wearing wire-rimmed glasses. He looked familiar. He was hunched over, as if in pain.

“Can you help me?” he said, his voice barely audible.

“Are you sick? Injured?” She fished for her cell phone and had just found it when a thirty-something man appeared from the edge of the oleander hedge along the street. Like the first, he, too, was dressed in a police uniform. But his hair was long and stringy, he’d done a poor job of shaving that morning, and part of his uniform shirt wasn’t tucked in. Her gaze caught on his shoes. He wore a pair of worn-out sneakers.

Lorna felt her first real sense of fear. This man, she thought as he ran toward her, was not a policeman. Before she could react, the first man straightened a little, reached out and grabbed her wrist.

She swung her bag with her lunch, the pint-size thermos and the container of cookies in it, catching the older of the two on the side of his head. He yelped and stumbled back, bumping into the disheveled-looking man. Lorna had stepped backward into the building with the swing of her bag. Now she fought to close the door, but the younger man was faster and stronger.

He drove the door back. She turned and ran deeper into the building, her cell phone still in her hand, her fingers punching out 91—

The younger man was on her before she could get out the last number.

7:18 a.m.

ANNA FELT ALL the breath knocked out of her as she looked past Max and saw Flint. She was shocked at how little he had changed. For a moment it was as if the last five years hadn’t happened and at any moment he would smile and she would step into his strong arms.

But then she saw his expression, a mixture of anger, bitterness and hurt, assuring her the years had been real, just like her reason for leaving.

His gaze turned colder than even she had expected. But it was her own reaction that surprised her. She had wondered what it would be like to see him again. She’d told herself she was over Flint Mauro. That there were no feelings left. For the past five years, she’d worked hard to forget him and get on with her life. She thought she’d done just that.

But she’d never expected it would hurt this much just seeing him.

“Anna,” Max said warmly. “Flint, Anna is our new SWAT team paramedic. Anna, Flint is our SWAT team commander.”

Anna could only stare in disbelief. Flint had always said he was going to be a detective and work his way to chief of police. He wanted to be one of those cops who used his brain instead of brawn, who didn’t have a job where he was always in the line of fire.

“I want to be able to come home to my wife and kids at night,” he had said. “I don’t want to be out there risking my life any more than I have to.”

Now he wore SWAT fatigues and a T-shirt with Do Whatever It Takes printed across the chest. What had happened in the last five years to change his mind?

“Please come in and sit down,” Max said to her, cutting through her painful memories.

Behind him, Flint was shaking his head. “What the hell? Max, you can’t be serious. This isn’t going to work.”

Max acted as if he hadn’t heard him. “Anna, are you all settled in?”

She nodded, afraid she couldn’t find her voice to speak.

Flint had turned away, anger in every line of his body. “I can’t believe you kept this from me.”

“Both of you—sit down,” Max ordered.

“Max, I had no idea that Flint was the SWAT commander,” Anna finally managed to say.

“Sit.”

They sat in the two chairs in front of his desk, neither looking at the other. But Anna couldn’t have been more aware of Flint. This close she could smell the light scent of his aftershave, the same kind he’d used when they’d been together. He exuded an energy that seemed to hum in the air around him, that buzzed through her, reminding her of what it was like being in that force field, the excitement, the dynamism.

“One of the reasons I had the two of you come in early is so that we could get this over with,” Max said. “Bitch and moan and then get past it. Flint, that’s why I didn’t tell you until now that I’d hired Anna. I didn’t want you stewing for weeks over this. The two of you will be working together. You have the jobs you do because you’re the best at what you do.”

“Why Anna?” Flint demanded as if she wasn’t in the room. “Anyone but Anna.”

“Excuse me?” she said, turning in her chair to look at him. “Is it possible I qualify for the job?”

Flint shot her a withering look. “I’m sure there are dozens, if not hundreds, of other paramedics who also qualify for the job.”

“For the past three years,” Max said, an edge to his voice, “Anna has excelled at this position in Washington, D.C., where she was in tougher situations than we’ve had in Courage Bay. She knows what she’s doing and she’s damned good at it.”

Flint was shaking his head. “Does it matter how I feel about this?”

“No,” Max said. “Anna’s good and she knows how our SWAT team operates because of her earlier experience as a paramedic with the Courage Bay fire department. She’s the perfect person for the job. That’s what’s important here. Not any petty differences the two of you might have.”

“Petty differences?” Flint snapped. “You might remember, Max, we were engaged to be married. Hell, you were going to be my best man. This is what tore us apart. Her insisting on endangering herself by training to go in with the SWAT team.”

“You endanger yourself with your job every day,” Anna pointed out. “I don’t see the difference.”

“You know damned well what the difference is.” Flint swung his gaze from her to Max. “She’s a woman. She needs to be there for our children.”

“You have children?” Max asked.

Flint shook his head in obvious frustration. “You know what I’m saying.”

Anna stared at Flint. When she’d first seen him after five years, all those old loving feelings had washed over her like a rogue wave, drowning her in wonderful memories of the two of them together, making her question how she’d ever been able to leave him.

But now as she looked at his obstinate expression, listened to him go on about a woman’s place, she knew she’d made the right decision five years ago. The man was from the Stone Age.

“Anna was the best candidate for this job. She can handle it. So don’t fight me on this, Flint.”

Max turned his attention to her. “Flint has excelled with the SWAT team. He’s shown himself a leader. That’s how he got the job of commander. There is only one question I want answered here this morning. Can you work together, or are you going to let your differences make it impossible? I have to know right now. Is your past relationship going to interfere with your performance?”

“As you pointed out, we have no relationship anymore,” Flint said. “Anna made that quite clear five years ago.”

Max shot him a warning look.

“It’s not going to be a problem for me,” Anna said, sounding more convinced than she was. She’d never dreamed she’d be working so closely with Flint. Was that why Max hadn’t told her? “Were you afraid I wouldn’t take the job? Is that why you didn’t warn me about Flint?”

“Would you have taken the job if I had told you?” Max asked her.

Her quick response surprised her. “Yes. This job is what I’ve wanted from the beginning. I’m not going to let anyone take that from me.” She glanced over at Flint. His jaw was set, rock-hard in anger. She knew that look too well. “I have no problem working with Flint. It’s been five years. I’ve moved past all that.”

Flint turned his head slowly to look at her and his wounded gaze pierced her heart.

“What about you, Flint?” Max asked.

Flint’s dark-eyed gaze was still on her. “Like she said, it’s water under the bridge.”

Anna heard the bitterness and anger. He hadn’t forgiven her for breaking off their engagement. No, she thought, what he hadn’t forgiven her for was not being the woman he wanted her to be. And to think she’d almost married the turkey.

“I need a united front here, Flint,” Max said.

Flint nodded. “I will treat her like my other SWAT team members. No problem.”

Anna recognized that sarcastic tone. Flint would make her life miserable on the team. But she wasn’t about to let him run her off. She wanted this job, she’d worked for it, she deserved it.

“I don’t want any special treatment,” she said, meeting Flint’s gaze. “I’m just one of the team.”

“You’ve got it,” he said.

Max sighed and got to his feet. “I’m going to leave the two of you alone to talk. Work it out between you. I’m meeting with the rest of the SWAT team in a few minutes. I’ll expect the two of you in the briefing room in ten minutes.” His gaze fell on Flint. “You’re both professionals. Act like it.”

Flint grunted.

“That’s the attitude,” Max said, but he smiled as he came around the desk and put his hand on Flint’s shoulder. “It’s great to have you on board, Anna. Five years was too long to be away. I’m glad you’re home.”

7:30 a.m.

THE ROOM SEEMED to shrink the moment Max left it. Flint got to his feet, needing to put distance between himself and Anna. He could smell her shampoo. The same kind she’d used when they’d been together. And her hair was the same: long, shiny, golden brown. Just as it had been the first time he’d seen her.

He’d thought about that day more times than he’d wanted to admit over the years. She’d been walking along the sidewalk by the ball field during one of the police department games. Something about the way she moved had caught his eye. There had been energy in her step. This was a woman who knew who she was and where she was going.

He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her, hoping she would look up. When she did, it had knocked the breath out of him. Her face was striking—the wide, brown eyes, the straight, almost aristocratic nose, the full, sensuous mouth. Her gaze radiated intelligence. Then she’d smiled; a bewildered smile, but still dazzling, blinding, enchanting.

It was as if Cupid had sunk an arrow into his heart. Not that he had ever told his buddies that. They’d have thought him crazy. What? Love at first sight? Get out of here.

He’d been so transfixed he hadn’t heard the crack of the bat, hadn’t seen the fly ball headed to left field, hadn’t seen anything but the woman of his dreams.

He still didn’t remember the ball hitting him in the head. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out. But when he opened his eyes, there she was, leaning over him.

“I’m a paramedic,” she’d said. “Lie still.” She’d gazed into his eyes, so close he could smell her sweet, slightly sweaty scent.

And he’d known this was the woman he was going to marry.

How wrong he’d been, he thought now as he looked over at Anna. The department’s new SWAT team paramedic. Great. He’d spent five years trying like hell to forget her. It could have been fifty years and it wouldn’t have made a difference, but now he would be working with her. The woman who’d walked out of his life after throwing his engagement ring at him. And after he’d spent days looking for the perfect ring for the perfect woman. What a fool he’d been.

And nothing had changed. Not his feelings of pain and regret. Not her lack of feelings for him, that was for sure. Except she was back, and now the SWAT team paramedic—the job he’d never wanted her to have.

He looked into her face, searching for some imperfection that would release her hold on him. She wasn’t beautiful. Not in the classic sense. She was striking, the kind of woman who made you do a double take when you saw her. A face you never forgot. Imperfect and yet perfect for him in a way that made him ache inside.

The more he’d been around her, the more deeply he’d fallen in love with her. He’d gotten caught up in her enthusiasm for life, her generosity, her sense of humor, her do-or-die attitude. He’d once told her that if he could bottle whatever it was that made her so special, he’d be a millionaire.

“Flint?”

He blinked, so deep in his thoughts he hadn’t realized she’d been talking to him.

“I was hoping we could do this in a civilized manner,” she said in a calm voice that irritated him more than if she’d sworn at him.

He stared at her. She didn’t even seem ruffled. Hell, maybe she was telling the truth. Maybe she had gotten over him while he’d been wallowing in regret all these years. Maybe he was the biggest fool on the planet. Maybe there was no maybe about it.

“I see no reason why we can’t work together, two professionals, just doing our jobs,” she said.

He snorted. “You have to be kidding.” He was furious at her for walking out on him, for coming back for an even more dangerous job. Didn’t she know how impossible this situation was for him? Did she care?

“Why are you doing this?” he demanded. “You know how I felt about you working with the SWAT team. Are you just trying to rub it in my face?”

“That’s ridiculous. This has nothing to do with you.”

He glared at her. “My mistake.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t think I do.”

She lifted her chin, stubborn determination in her brown eyes and a coolness that had always brought out heat in him. He’d seen that look way too many times. Unfortunately he could also remember desire in those eyes.