Split Second
Page 106
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“Lucy?” Savich said.
Eric Clapton sang out “Tears in Heaven.”
“Savich here.”
A brief pause, then he said clearly, “You’re talking too fast, Kirsten. Say that again.”
Ollie was out of his chair, racing to trace the call.
Everyone at the conference table leaned toward Savich. Savich’s face, Coop saw, was red with rage, but that rage didn’t sound through in his voice.
“How did you get my number, Kirsten?”
They all stared at Savich’s cell, silently praying that she would keep talking until Ollie located her phone. They could hear her screaming at Savich, something about Bruce Comafield.
“Bruce died because he was with you, Kirsten. It’s on your head, not mine.”
More screaming.
“Truth is, I’m sorry he died. I was thinking I could put it out he was alive and lure you back to the hospital to try to save him. But he didn’t make it.”
More screaming, then a moment of silence before Savich said, “If you were me, you’d have thought about doing the same thing, wouldn’t you?”
That was good, Coop thought, keep her arguing. He saw Ollie was nodding at them through the glass door. Dane and Ruth were out of their chairs, racing to the elevator, Ollie with them, still talking on his cell.
Savich continued after a moment, voice calm and slow, “Would you have come to the hospital to see Bruce?”
Coop heard cursing vile enough to curl his mother’s hair. After she’d run down again, Savich said, “You’re not going to have another try at Ann Marie Slatter. She’s safe now.
“No, don’t congratulate yourself on that, either. The redhead isn’t dead; your drugs didn’t kill her. She’s very much alive, and she will stay that way, just as Ann Marie Slatter will.
“Listen, Kirsten, you need to stop this. What you’re doing isn’t about them, anyway. You need to meet me alone, and we can have it out. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Or do you want to hide and try to shoot me from a hundred yards away again? Yep, we found where you’d been crouched down, waiting to get a good shot at me. But you missed, didn’t you? Why was that? I guess you’re just not good enough.”
There was more screaming, and Savich held the phone a bit away from his ear.
“You can try to kill me, Kirsten, but what makes you think you’ll do better next time? How did you get my cell number?” After a pause, he said, “Yes, I did ask our unit secretary to give out my number to any woman who called. Again, wouldn’t you have done the same thing?”
She didn’t answer; she hung up. Savich pushed a button on his cell. “Dane, where is she?”
“She was moving in a vehicle near Arlington National Cemetery. We lost her when she turned off her cell. The cops are on their way. We’ve got to hope she’s still driving the Monte Carlo.”
Savich slipped his cell back into his breast pocket. “Now we wait.” He added, more to himself than to the group, “Sherlock will be back later, after she drops Sean with his grandmother and Senator Monroe. We wanted him as far away from Kirsten as possible.” He paused, remembering the park and how scared he’d been. He drew a deep breath. “Unless we’re lucky, they won’t know what she’s driving, but she’ll call me back after—”
“After what?” Coop asked.
Savich’s voice was utterly emotionless. “She’s in a killing rage. Someone in Virginia will die very soon now.”
CHAPTER 61
Wesley Heights
Lucy sat cross-legged on the bed, her fingers twisting and untwisting the fringe on a bright blue afghan.
Coop said nothing, simply sipped at his coffee and watched her. Finally he said, “Kirsten’s call to Savich this afternoon kept you from explaining what happened in the park this morning, Lucy. You’ve had time to think about it. Want to try out your explanation on me? I’ll give you a fair hearing.”
The light touch of sarcasm floated through her brain, then wafted away, not really touching her. She looked up, smiled at him. “What a day.”
A dark eyebrow cocked up.
“You know, Coop, I’d rather haul you to the bedroom and take you down on that rock-hard mattress.”
He eyed her, not changing expression. “As a distraction, that’s a perfect ten.”
She kept twisting and knotting the fringe, all her attention on her fingers. She drew a deep breath. “Okay, give me your fair hearing. I saw Kirsten, saw the glint of her rifle, saw she was aiming at Dillon. I ran my heart out and managed to get to him in time.”
Eric Clapton sang out “Tears in Heaven.”
“Savich here.”
A brief pause, then he said clearly, “You’re talking too fast, Kirsten. Say that again.”
Ollie was out of his chair, racing to trace the call.
Everyone at the conference table leaned toward Savich. Savich’s face, Coop saw, was red with rage, but that rage didn’t sound through in his voice.
“How did you get my number, Kirsten?”
They all stared at Savich’s cell, silently praying that she would keep talking until Ollie located her phone. They could hear her screaming at Savich, something about Bruce Comafield.
“Bruce died because he was with you, Kirsten. It’s on your head, not mine.”
More screaming.
“Truth is, I’m sorry he died. I was thinking I could put it out he was alive and lure you back to the hospital to try to save him. But he didn’t make it.”
More screaming, then a moment of silence before Savich said, “If you were me, you’d have thought about doing the same thing, wouldn’t you?”
That was good, Coop thought, keep her arguing. He saw Ollie was nodding at them through the glass door. Dane and Ruth were out of their chairs, racing to the elevator, Ollie with them, still talking on his cell.
Savich continued after a moment, voice calm and slow, “Would you have come to the hospital to see Bruce?”
Coop heard cursing vile enough to curl his mother’s hair. After she’d run down again, Savich said, “You’re not going to have another try at Ann Marie Slatter. She’s safe now.
“No, don’t congratulate yourself on that, either. The redhead isn’t dead; your drugs didn’t kill her. She’s very much alive, and she will stay that way, just as Ann Marie Slatter will.
“Listen, Kirsten, you need to stop this. What you’re doing isn’t about them, anyway. You need to meet me alone, and we can have it out. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Or do you want to hide and try to shoot me from a hundred yards away again? Yep, we found where you’d been crouched down, waiting to get a good shot at me. But you missed, didn’t you? Why was that? I guess you’re just not good enough.”
There was more screaming, and Savich held the phone a bit away from his ear.
“You can try to kill me, Kirsten, but what makes you think you’ll do better next time? How did you get my cell number?” After a pause, he said, “Yes, I did ask our unit secretary to give out my number to any woman who called. Again, wouldn’t you have done the same thing?”
She didn’t answer; she hung up. Savich pushed a button on his cell. “Dane, where is she?”
“She was moving in a vehicle near Arlington National Cemetery. We lost her when she turned off her cell. The cops are on their way. We’ve got to hope she’s still driving the Monte Carlo.”
Savich slipped his cell back into his breast pocket. “Now we wait.” He added, more to himself than to the group, “Sherlock will be back later, after she drops Sean with his grandmother and Senator Monroe. We wanted him as far away from Kirsten as possible.” He paused, remembering the park and how scared he’d been. He drew a deep breath. “Unless we’re lucky, they won’t know what she’s driving, but she’ll call me back after—”
“After what?” Coop asked.
Savich’s voice was utterly emotionless. “She’s in a killing rage. Someone in Virginia will die very soon now.”
CHAPTER 61
Wesley Heights
Lucy sat cross-legged on the bed, her fingers twisting and untwisting the fringe on a bright blue afghan.
Coop said nothing, simply sipped at his coffee and watched her. Finally he said, “Kirsten’s call to Savich this afternoon kept you from explaining what happened in the park this morning, Lucy. You’ve had time to think about it. Want to try out your explanation on me? I’ll give you a fair hearing.”
The light touch of sarcasm floated through her brain, then wafted away, not really touching her. She looked up, smiled at him. “What a day.”
A dark eyebrow cocked up.
“You know, Coop, I’d rather haul you to the bedroom and take you down on that rock-hard mattress.”
He eyed her, not changing expression. “As a distraction, that’s a perfect ten.”
She kept twisting and knotting the fringe, all her attention on her fingers. She drew a deep breath. “Okay, give me your fair hearing. I saw Kirsten, saw the glint of her rifle, saw she was aiming at Dillon. I ran my heart out and managed to get to him in time.”
