Takeover

The monitor showed Bobby’s approach. In the background Theresa seemed to be conversing with Jessica Ludlow. Be careful, Patrick silently warned her. She should stop trying to investigate and keep her head down.

The other half of the criminal team spoke into the phone. “What?”

“Family seems to be the most important thing to you,” Cavanaugh told him. “Is connecting with the last member of your family more important than robbing a bank?”

“I don’t get you.”

“I’m saying if I can produce your brother, not just on the phone but let you see him, would you put down your weapon and end this day peacefully?”

“If you can bring the dead back to life, Cavanaugh, I’ll do anything you say.”

“I’m serious, Bobby. This is a real deal we’re making here. I can only hold up my end if I can trust you to hold up yours.”

“There’s just one problem,” Bobby said. “I know you’re lying.”

“I’ll bring him down, and we’ll stand in the doorway, across the street at the library building.”

Bobby’s derisive snort exploded over the wires. “I sure hope this guy you’ve got looks more like my brother than he sounds, or you’ll have to stand in the next county to convince me.”

Cavanaugh paused, his finger off the “talk” button.

“You’re not going to have us walk Eric Moyers across the street?” Jason whispered. “That’s against the rules.”

“We’re not going to hand him over, just let his brother see him. We can break Bobby, and we have to… Okay, Bobby, we can make this work. I can let you converse with your brother if that will satisfy you that I’m telling the truth. But what are you going to do for me?”

They heard-and saw, on the monitor-Bobby turn from the phone and explain the situation to Lucas.

Lucas sounded more strained than ever. “Give up? Are you nuts?”

“If it’s not him, we can waste ’em. But if it is-if he’s really still alive-then I don’t want to die, man.”

“What?”

They heard a clunk as Bobby dropped the phone. He moved across the tile and joined Lucas for what appeared to be a heated talk. They both stood at the corner to the entranceway.

“Snipers! ” Cavanaugh barked into his radio. “Green light! ” Meaning they were far enough from the hostages- take the shot.

“Negative. Out of range.” One or both were sufficiently hidden by the teller cages.

“Damn.”

The two conversed with a number of hand gestures but only an audible word here or there.

Cavanaugh next contacted Mulvaney. “Can we turn up the volume on those mikes? We really need to hear what they’re saying.”

“If we could,” the captain’s voice drawled over the radio, “don’t you think we would have hours ago?”

“True, sorry.” Cavanaugh set the radio down. “They’re keeping their voices low. They don’t want the hostages to hear.”

“What’s the plan?” Jason asked. He seemed truly worried, which didn’t make Patrick feel any better.

“They’re going to make a run for it. At least debating this issue will delay them a bit. It also seems to be breaking down the part-nership-best-case scenario, they get in a fight and shoot each other.” Cavanaugh tilted his head back, drained another bottle of water. “Second best, I can make this deal with Bobby and they give up. No one else gets hurt.”

Patrick tried to loosen his tie, only to realize he had removed it hours before. “Lucas didn’t come this far just to make Bobby feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

“But it gives him an out. He’s got to know by now that he isn’t going to drive the Mercedes into the sunset with a trunkful of cash. Giving up for the sake of his buddy is a much different animal than giving up to save his skin.”

“Altruism has drama,” Patrick agreed, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that Cavanaugh might be drawing the conclusions he preferred.

“It all depends on what’s going on in Lucas Parrish’s mind,” Cavanaugh said, as if he’d read Patrick’s.

Jason still worried. “How are you going to get Eric Moyers to go along with this? He went to great pains to avoid even a phone call from his brother, much less a visit.”

“He won’t like having those people’s blood on his hands either.” Cavanaugh straightened his collar, tucked his shirttails more tightly into the slightly wrinkled khakis. “You’ve talked to him more than we have, Patrick, what do you think?”

“Hmm?” He’d been watching the monitor, where Bobby and Lucas continued to converse with intensity but not, so far, apparent anger. “He isn’t a bad guy. He’d want to do the right thing, and he’s not afraid of his brother, more contemptuous of him. But he also strikes me as having a well-developed sense of self-preserva-tion. Look, they’re done talking.”

Cavanaugh leaned over the communication set just as Bobby, on the monitor, swept up the phone receiver. The robber’s first words came as something of a surprise.

“Tell me again what you have in mind,” he asked.

Patrick noticed the slight breath of relief Cavanaugh let out before going back into the dance.

“If I produce your brother-so that you can see him and talk to him, long enough and close enough to satisfy you that he is your brother, Eric Moyers, then you and Lucas put down your guns and come out. You will not be harmed by the officers.”

“That sounds like weasel words. Who will we be harmed by, then?”

“No one. No harm will come to you from anyone, as long as you put down your weapons and come out, leaving those people safe. We’re not interested in shooting you, Bobby, or hurting you or Lucas. We just want to get those bank employees back to their families and all these police officers back to their families.”

Patrick thought he laid the family emphasis on a bit thickly, but it kept Bobby talking.

“One condition,” he said. “We don’t serve any time. Lucas and me, we’ve already seen the inside of prison for longer than we ever cared to.”

Jason shifted in his chair and muttered to himself. “This part is always sticky.”

“That’s not really up to me, Bobby, but I’m not going to lie to you and tell you that you can both walk off free after this has ended. You know that’s not how it works. But if you give up peacefully, without hurting anyone else, it will count in your favor with the courts.”

“Meaning we’ll go to jail and you’ll throw away the key.”

This could lead to several more hours of negotiation. Hostage takers never wanted to go to jail, but all knew that they would. Just like escaping with the money-the trick was to keep them talking until they accepted the reality of the situation. It had to be so tempting to lie to them, Patrick thought, to tell them anything they’d like to hear just to end this. But unless they were completely insane, they’d know you were lying, and further discussions would be pointless.

However, that they were even considering jail time represented a huge concession. The brother card might actually work.

“I don’t know what kind of sentence the judge will require, Bobby. As I said, that’s not up to me. But I know what kind of sentence you’ll get if anyone else dies today, and you won’t like it better.” Cavanaugh spoke almost gently. He did not wish to threaten, his voice said. Merely inform.

They waited while Bobby went back to Lucas for another conference.

“I still can’t believe Lucas would do this,” Jason grumbled.

“I wouldn’t have either,” Patrick said, “but his sister said that Lucas learned loyalty from his mother-she’d put up with anything to keep her husband, her loved ones. Maybe he’ll act out that lesson. Or maybe it’s like you said,” he added to Cavanaugh, “an out, a way for him to give up and still save face.”

Jason did not seem reassured. “But Lucas has been the leader all this time. He’s called all the shots.”

“Or he’s just the spokesman,” Cavanaugh pointed out. “Like me.”

“He insisted on staying to get the money shipment. Bobby didn’t want to.”

Patrick’s head swam with the what-ifs and maybes. He got into other people’s heads all day long, trying to