“Upstairs. Sleeping, of course. It’s after nine.”
“I’d like to check on their well-being.”
That stumped her. She recovered quickly, and said, “What on earth for? I’m not going to have you wake up my kids.”
Brad said, “Mrs. Everett, there’s been a verifiable threat against your husband and we’re here to check on you and the children. Other agents are checking on your husband at his work.”
She stared at them, as if searching her mind for an answer.
There was a distinct cough from the dining room, which Lucy could only partly see from her vantage point. She put her hand on her gun.
The fake Mrs. Everett pushed the door all the way open.
Now Lucy could see that the boy—about twelve or thirteen—was tied to one of the dining room chairs. He was the kid from the family photo in James Everett’s office.
A familiar man stood behind him, a gun aimed at the back of the kid’s head. It only took Lucy a second to remember where she’d seen him.
“Peter Rabb,” Lucy said.
“Hands up, step in and close the door. Or he’s dead, then the girl will follow.”
Lucy didn’t see the younger daughter. She couldn’t assume that there were only two hostage takers.
Lucy stepped in.
“You too, Donnelly,” Peter said.
As soon as they’d stepped inside, the woman shut and bolted the door.
“Move apart. Hands up.”
Lucy moved toward the dining room. Brad didn’t budge.
“Joyce, disarm first Donnelly, then Kincaid. His gun, his phone, check for other weapons.”
Joyce complied. She was definitely scared of Peter, but she wasn’t a complete novice. She found all their weapons and put them on the dining table in front of Peter.
“Where’s Mrs. Everett and her daughter?” Lucy asked.
“They are none of your concern,” Peter said.
Lucy stared at the boy. He was scared out of his mind, but he kept glancing at the large, curving split staircase that branched off the foyer.
Either a third bad guy was upstairs with the other two hostages, or the girls were restrained.
“Are they okay?” Lucy asked.
“For now,” Peter said. “Agent Donnelly, your reputation precedes you. Not so tough, really, not in person. Please have a seat.”
“I’ll stand,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Sit.” Peter motioned to one of the dining chairs. “Now.”
Slowly, Brad sat.
“Joyce, take those cuffs,” he gestured to where she’d put them on the table, “and put them on Agent Donnelly.”
The woman complied as if she were used to taking orders.
“Peter,” Lucy said, “you now have two federal agents as hostages. Let the Everett family go.”
He laughed. “Right. Sure. You don’t have the control here. No one is leaving until I get the call. Understood?” He glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. “Quarter after nine. It shouldn’t be much longer.” He smiled. “But this really is a coup. Both of you here together.”
“You work for Tobias.” Lucy needed to keep him talking. Not just to learn information, but to buy time. Barry would soon figure out that something was wrong. And when the agents arrived at Everett’s office, they would know he was under duress.
Peter didn’t say anything, so Lucy asked, “Where’s Elise?”
“Not here.”
“Is she with Everett?”
Peter didn’t answer. A thump came from upstairs. He frowned and said, “Joyce, check on them.”
Joyce picked up one of the guns and went upstairs.
That told Lucy there was no one with the mom and daughter. Just Joyce and Peter.
Peter hadn’t told her to sit down, so she remained standing in the middle of the foyer. She caught the Everett boy’s eye and tried to reassure him, but he was shaking.
Peter pulled out a phone. He sent a text message, probably to Elise or Tobias announcing that he had Lucy and Brad at gunpoint.
This was just getting better and better.
Joyce returned a minute later. “They’re fine,” she said.
“What made the noise?” Peter asked.
“The headboard against the wall,” Joyce said. “I triple-checked them. I swear.”
Lucy was trying to assess Peter. She thought back to when she’d met him at the hospital, when he came in asking about Elise’s welfare, like a good citizen. In hindsight, he’d been too interested, hanging on every word. He wasn’t the leader—he was smart, but not like Elise. He wasn’t as shrewd or calculating. She made a judgment call and said, “Peter, Elise isn’t coming back for you.”
“She’s not coming back at all,” he said. “Do you think she’s stupid? She said you’d come here to check on the family as soon as she disappeared from the hospital. I don’t know how she knew it, but she was right.” Peter glowed like a proud lover. Did he think that Elise actually cared about him?
Lucy was surprised as well. Such a deduction showed not only intelligence, but keen psychological interpretation. Far beyond a normal sixteen-year-old.
But nothing about Elise Hansen was normal.