in a far more conciliatory tone than the one I had used. “But I think we can all agree that his behavior today is unusual. Until we can locate him and sort this all out, our first concern has to be keeping you and your children safe. I think you should take the children and leave.”
“Leave?” DeAnn repeated dully. “You mean run away?”
“It’s the middle of the night,” DeAnn objected. “The kids are asleep,” she added. “I’d have to wake them up and load them into the van. Where would I take them?”
“You said earlier that some of your friends from church came over this afternoon and helped you. Do you think you could stay with one of them?”
Mel met and held DeAnn’s gaze for a period of several long seconds. When DeAnn looked away first, I knew Mel had her. Give a mother a choice between her babies and her husband, and most women will take the former.
“I’ll call Mary Jane,” she said.
Mel and I stayed around while DeAnn packed up a vanload of food, clothing, and toys. Once the child gear had been loaded into the Dodge minivan in the garage, Mel and I helped carry the three sleeping kids out to the car and strap them into their car seats.
With the engine running, DeAnn backed out of the garage and closed the garage door behind her. In the driveway, though, she paused and rolled down the window. “Shouldn’t I leave Donnie a note?” she asked. “What if he comes home and we’re not here? Won’t he be worried? Shouldn’t I let him know where we are?”
I was afraid that if she went back into the house, we’d never get her to leave a second time. Mel must have shared that concern.
“You have a cell phone, don’t you?” she asked.
DeAnn nodded. “Yes, but-”
“You can talk to him on the phone if he calls you,” Mel advised. “Tell him you and the kids are fine, but don’t tell him where you are or how to find you, and whatever you do, don’t agree to meet him. If he contacts you-if he tells you where he is-you call us. We’ll negotiate with him, not you.”
“All right,” DeAnn agreed at last, putting the minivan in gear. “If you think that’s the best way to handle it…”
Mel and I stood in the street and watched until DeAnn’s taillights disappeared around the next intersection. The process of talking her into leaving had left me drained.
“Can we go home now?” I asked Mel. “This has been a very long day.”
CHAPTER 19
You did a good job with DeAnn,” I told Mel as we headed back to Seattle.
“Thanks,” Mel said.
We didn’t know it yet, but our self-congratulations at rescuing DeAnn Cosgrove were more than slightly premature. We went home. We went to bed. Breakfast at Fisherman’s Terminal seemed eons in the past, and we had missed having dinner altogether, but I was too tired to be hungry. I fell into bed and was asleep almost immediately. When the phone rang at two-twelve I was so far off in la-la land that I tried to shut off the alarm instead of answering the phone.
“Mr. Beaumont?”
I hadn’t spoken to DeAnn Cosgrove all that often, but even half asleep I recognized her voice in the urgent whisper on the other end of the line. “Are you all right?” I asked at once.
“I’m at the house,” she said. “Donnie’s here, too. I can see him through the window. He’s asleep on the couch.”
My heart constricted inside my chest. DeAnn was at the house and so was Donnie. In my mind’s eye I could foresee the worst of all possible outcomes.
“What in the world are you doing there?” I demanded. “I thought I told you-”
“I was worried about him,” DeAnn continued hurriedly. “I left the kids in Issaquah and drove by the house just to see if Donnie might have come home. And he did. His Tahoe is right here on the street where he usually parks it. His gun’s there, too-locked inside. I can see it on the front seat, but I don’t have my own key to the Tahoe. It’s still in the house. I thought about breaking the window to get at the gun, but I’m afraid that will set off the car alarm and wake him.”
Mel sat up next to me. “What is it?” she asked.
“You say Donnie’s asleep on the couch?” I said as much to Mel as to DeAnn, trying in that one sentence to calm DeAnn while at the same time bringing Mel up to speed. “Hang up the phone, DeAnn,” I ordered. “Get in your car and drive away. I’ll call 9-1-1 and have them send someone to-”
“No,” DeAnn whispered to me. “No way. I’m not leaving and don’t call 9-1-1, either. Please. If armed cops show up here, they won’t think of Donnie as the man I love or the father of my children. They’ll only see a suspected killer.”
“Please, Detective Beaumont,” DeAnn continued. “If you’ll just talk to him, I’m sure he’ll listen to you.”
I wasn’t nearly as convinced of that as DeAnn was, but by then I was already pulling on my pants. Mel scrambled out of bed after me and padded down the hallway to dress.
“All right,” I agreed finally. “I’m coming. We’re coming,” I corrected. “Mel Soames and I both. If you don’t want us to call anyone else to meet us there, you have to promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“That you won’t stay there with him by yourself. Drive down the street. Pull into someone else’s driveway. You can stay close enough to keep the truck in view so you can let us know in case he wakes up and starts to leave. But you cannot-you must not-be there in the house with him alone. Understand?”
“I already told you. It’s okay. His gun’s out in the Tahoe in plain sight.”
I reminded myself that this was a woman who probably wouldn’t know the difference between a.357 sidearm and your basic firecracker.
“What makes you think that’s the only gun he owns?” I demanded.
DeAnn started to reply, then stopped. “Donnie’s my husband…” she declared finally.
“Look, DeAnn,” I said, struggling to sound reasonable. “I know he’s your husband and I know you love him, but in Donnie’s current state of mind, armed or not, there’s a good chance he poses a danger to himself and others-you included.”
“But Donnie loves me,” she insisted. “He’d never hurt me.”
“Don’t bet on it,” I said.
Of course she was betting on it-betting her entire existence-or she would never have returned to the house in the first place.
“What becomes of your children if something happens to you?” I demanded. “What happens to them if both their parents turn up dead? Your mother’s not here to step in. Do you want the state looking after your babies? Do you want Child Protective Services calling the shots for them? Think about your kids, DeAnn. They need you a whole lot more right now than Donnie does.”
I held my breath and hoped I’d made a convincing argument. About then Mel returned to the bedroom. Completely dressed, she was already wearing her Kevlar vest. She tossed mine onto the bed.
“I’m hanging up now so I can get dressed,” I told DeAnn. “Promise me you won’t go anywhere near the house. Promise?”
For an answer she pushed the button and ended the call. I threw my phone onto the bed in utter frustration while I buttoned up my shirt. “What the hell is the matter with that woman?” I demanded. “What does she use for brains?”
Mel ignored my outburst. “Where’s Donnie Cosgrove and where’s his gun?” she wanted to know. “And how
