“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.”
Which he is, I thought.
“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. And what about knives? I asked myself silently. How many of those does he have?
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?”