in the negotiation process. If Joe broke their trust now, he would not get it back.
“She’s got to shut that kid up,” Bobby told Ricky.
“Listen, guys...” Joe took a small step closer so they would turn their attention—and weapons—back on him and away from Laura’s side of the room. “I think we can solve a couple of problems here with one action.”
“What are you talking about?” Bobby’s eyes narrowed.
“Like you said, that baby is a huge headache. Plus the people outside—” Joe again was careful not to call them law enforcement or police “—would take it as a sign of good faith if you let the kids and their mom go. Works for everyone. You get rid of a screaming baby, and the people outside know you’re reasonable. Win/win. You’ve still got plenty of people left in here for whatever you need to do.”
Bobby looked over at his older brother and Ricky finally nodded. Joe felt like a hundred-pound weight had been lifted off his chest. Now, no matter what happened, at least Laura and her kids would be safe.
Keeping his eyes on Ricky and Bobby, Joe motioned for Laura and the kids to come over.
“Get the manager to open the door again,” Ricky told him, so Joe turned to the man. The heavyset manager got to his feet and moved to the door.
Joe turned back to reassure Laura as best he could but found another woman taking the baby from her. Clutching the infant in one arm and holding the hand of the little girl in the other, she made her way to Joe.
“You’re their mom?” Joe asked. “I thought the other lady was holding the baby.”
“She was just helping me,” the woman whispered. “Thank you for getting us out.”
Joe squeezed her shoulder. “When the door opens, walk straight across the street. Don’t stop for anything.”
The woman nodded.
“Okay, are we ready?” he asked.
Joe turned to Ricky and Bobby and fought back a shudder when he saw that Bobby now had Laura held right in front of him in a choke hold, gun pointed at her temple.
“If anyone does anything I don’t like, I’ll put a bullet in her,” Bobby said.
Joe ground his teeth. It took quite a lot to get him to lose his cool, but he was finding that a gun to Laura’s temple did it very quickly. He forced the anger down. He needed to stay calm.
The manager opened the door and Joe watched as the woman sprinted across the street, the little girl doing her best to keep up. They were safe. He squeezed the shoulder of the bank manager as he relocked the door.
“Thank you for not trying to run,” Joe said in a low voice. The man could’ve taken off when the door was open. Could’ve saved himself at the cost of other lives. Joe had seen it happen before.
“I couldn’t let them kill someone else because of me.” The manager rubbed his hands down his pant legs. “But I can’t give them what they want. I don’t have what they need.”
Joe’s smile suggested a calm he didn’t really feel. “We’ll work it out.”
Joe finally felt like he could breathe again when Bobby had released Laura and she had sat back down against the wall. She didn’t seem to be hurt in any way or even too scared.
As a matter of fact her hazel eyes were all but spitting daggers at Joe. She looked like she might grab Bobby’s gun and shoot Joe herself.
Joe winced. Guess she hadn’t forgiven him for what he’d said to her six years ago.
He didn’t blame her. And he had to admit, as much as he wanted Laura safely out of harm’s way, his heart had actually leaped in his chest—seriously, he’d felt the adrenaline rush through him—when he realized those children belonged to another woman. Not Laura.
It was time to get this situation resolved so he could move on to more important things. Like talking Laura into dinner with him.
He had a feeling that might take more negotiation skills than even he possessed.
Joe Matarazzo working in law enforcement. Who would’ve ever figured that would happen? Certainly not Laura.
But she had to admit, he had quite deftly handled the situation in the bank with Ricky and Bobby. They had come there to steal the last remaining copy of their father’s will.
Evidently dear old dad had realized what jerks his sons had become and had decided to leave his “fortune” as Ricky and Bobby called it, a sum of just over twelve thousand dollars, to the local 4-H club.
Two grown men had broken into a bank, held sixteen people—including children—hostage, and had threatened to kill them all to get a will. A will that ultimately would only get them twelve thousand dollars if they were successful.
The perfect storm of idiocy.
The bank manger hadn’t had the other key. Every safe-deposit box needed two keys and the manager only had one. That’s when the problem had escalated. Ricky and Bobby thought they could just come in, show some ID and have the box opened. But not without the second key.
Demanding the manager open it by pointing a gun at his head hadn’t changed the situation. He still couldn’t open it with only his one key.
Somehow Bobby and Ricky just hadn’t understood that. They got loud. Someone called the cops and next thing they knew they had a hostage situation on their hands.
Laura had no idea what would’ve happened if Joe hadn’t shown up and defused the situation.
He’d sat down with the two men and the bank manager. The manager swore he would open the safe-deposit box if he could, but that the bank had put security measures in place long ago that required two keys. It’s what kept managers from being able to walk in at any time and take anything they wanted from the boxes.
Finally Joe was able to make Ricky and Bobby understand that. He’d then helped them figure out where their dead father’s key might be. Explained they needed to surrender so they could come back to the bank another time.
That time was going to be after years in prison, and by then the 4-H club was going to have some pretty nice 4-Hing equipment, or whatever a 4-H club used money for, but Joe had left that part out.
Both men had exited with Joe and had been immediately taken into custody. Everyone inside could hear Ricky and Bobby screaming at Joe, claiming he’d lied about being arrested. Joe hadn’t lied, he just hadn’t announced all the particulars of the truth. As a lawyer, Laura could appreciate the difference.
Cops and medical workers then rushed into the bank to see who needed help. As they tended to people, Laura watched with a sort of amazed detachment as one of the large air-conditioning grates on a wall about ten feet off the ground moved and a small woman, in full combat gear and rifle, eased her way out, hung as far as her arms would allow her, then dropped to the ground.
She’d been there, probably since not long after Joe arrived, silently ready to move in if things had gotten desperate.
But they hadn’t, thanks to Joe.
The woman had just made a quiet sweep of the area with her eyes then walked out the front door. Most of the people inside didn’t even notice her.
A uniformed police officer entered and made an announcement. “People, I’m Sheriff Richardson. Right now we’re just trying to ascertain who is injured. If you have any wounds at all, or feel like you’re having any chest pains or anything like that, please let us know so we can get a medic to attend to you immediately.”
Laura’s chest hurt a little bit, but she was pretty sure that was indigestion caused from seeing Joe again.
“Otherwise