42
Carrying four containers of black coffee in a small cardboard box, I stepped through the door of the Data Imaging Answers store to see Thorson's shocked face. Before he could say anything the phone on his desk started ringing. He picked it up and said, 'I know.'
He held the phone out for me.
'For you, sport.'
It was Backus.
'Jack, get the hell out of there right now!'
'I will. I just wanted to drop off some coffee to these guys. You saw Gordo, he's falling asleep, it's so boring in here.'
'Very funny, Jack, but get out. Our agreement was that you would do things my way and I would protect the story. Now, please, do as-you've got a customer. Tell Thorson. It's a woman.'
I held the phone against my chest and looked at Thorson.
'Customer on the way. But it's a woman.'
I held the receiver back up.
'Okay, I'm out of here,' I said to Backus.
I hung the phone up and took one of the coffee containers out of the box and put it on Thorson's desk. I heard the door open behind me, the sound of traffic going by on Pico getting momentarily louder and then buffered again by the closed glass. Without turning around to look at the customer I went over to the desk where Coombs was sitting.
'Coffee?'
'Thank you very much.'
I put another cup down and reached into the box for packets of sugar and powdered cream and a stirring straw. When I turned around I saw the woman standing in front of Thorson's desk, digging through a big black purse. She had fluffy blond hair in a Dolly Parton cascade. An obvious wig. She wore a white blouse over a short skirt and black stockings. She was tall, even without the high heels. I noticed that when she had opened the door to the shop a strong odor of perfume entered with her.
'Ah,' she said, finding what she was looking for. 'I'm here to pick this up for my boss.'
She placed a folded yellow sheet on the desk in front of Thorson. He looked over at Coombs, an attempt to signal that Coombs should take over this transaction.
'Take it easy, Gordo,' I said.
As I started for the door I looked over at Thorson, expecting him to reply to my repeated use of the nickname Backus had used for him. I saw Thorson looking at the now unfolded sheet she had given him and his eyes fixed on something. I saw his eyes glance at the west wall of the store. I knew he was looking at the camera. At Backus. He then looked up at the woman. I was behind her at this point and could only see Thorson's eyes just over her shoulder. He was rising and I saw his mouth coming open in a silent O. His right arm was coming up and he was reaching inside his jacket. Then I saw her right arm coming up from the bag. When it cleared her torso I saw the knife grasped in her hand.
She brought the knife down well before Thorson had his arm out of his jacket. I heard his strangled cry as the knife plunged into his throat. He started falling back, a spray of arterial blood going up, hitting her in the shoulder as she leaned all the way over the desk reaching for something.
She straightened up and spun around, Thorson's gun in hand.
'Nobody fuckin' move!'
The woman's voice was gone, replaced by the near hysterical and taut voice of the cornered male animal. He aimed the gun at Coombs and then swung it around at me.
'Get away from that door. Get in here!'
I dropped the box with the two coffee containers, raised my hands and moved away from the door, further into the showroom. The man in the dress then wheeled again on Coombs, who shrieked.
'No! Please, they're watching, no!'
'Who's watching? Who?'
'They're watching on the camera!'
'Who?'
'The FBI, Gladden,' I said in as calm a tone as I could muster, which probably wasn't too far removed from the same shriek that Coombs had emitted.
'Can they hear?'
'Yes, they can hear.'
'FBI!' Gladden yelled. 'FBI, you got one dead already. You come in here and you'll get two more.'
He then turned to the display table and aimed Thorson's gun at the video camera with the red light on. He fired three times until he hit it and it flew backward off the table, breaking apart.
'Get over here,' he yelled at me. 'Where are the keys?'
'Keys to what?'
'The goddamn store.'
'Take it easy. I don't work here.'
'Then who does?'
He turned the gun on Coombs.
'In my pocket. The keys are in my pocket.'
'Go lock that front door. You try to run through and I'll shoot you down like the camera.'
'Yes, sir.'
Coombs did as he was told and then Gladden ordered both of us to the back of the showroom and told us to sit on the floor against the door to the rear storage room, blocking anybody from charging through. He then turned over both desks so they would act as blinds and maybe even barriers against bullets from outside the front windows. He crouched down behind the desk where Thorson had been.
I could see Thorson's body from my position. Most of his previously white shirt was soaked in blood. There was no movement and his eyes were half closed and fixed. The handle of a knife still protruded from his throat. I shuddered at the sight, realizing that a moment ago the man was alive and that whether I liked him or not, I knew him. Now he was dead.
The thought occurred to me then that Backus must be panicked. With the video out, he might not know Thorson's status. If he believed Thorson was alive and there was a chance he could be saved, I could expect the critical response team to start coming through with stun grenades and everything else at any moment. If they believed Thorson to be dead, I might as well settle in for what could be a long night.
'You don't work here,' Gladden said to me. 'Who are you? Do I know you?'
I hesitated. Who was I? Did I tell this man the truth?
'You're FBI.'
'No. I'm not FBI. I'm a reporter.'
'A reporter? You came for my story, is that it?'
'If you want to give it. If you want to talk to the FBI, put that phone over there on the floor back on its hook. They'll call on that line.'
He looked over at the phone that had come apart on the floor when he had overturned the desk. Just then it began emitting the sharp tone signaling it was off the hook. He could reach the line without moving out of cover. He dragged the phone over and hung it up. He looked at me.
'I recognize you,' he said. 'You-'
The phone rang and he picked it up.
'Talk,' he commanded.
There was a long silence until he finally responded to whatever had been said.
'Well, well, Agent Backus, good to make your acquaintance again. I have learned a lot about you since we last
