Spider Web (39 page)

After I hung up, I called Gabe’s cell.

“First, I want to assure you that Dove, Aunt Garnet and I are okay.” Then I told him what happened, including who the sniper was so, if possible, he could tell Yvette before anyone else did.

“Did he say why?” Gabe asked.

“Yes, I’ll tell you the whole story when you get here. Please hurry.”

“I’ll be there as quickly as I can,” Gabe replied.

Within a half hour, every branch of law enforcement you could imagine swarmed the museum. Dove and Aunt Garnet greeted them at the front door of the historical museum, inviting them in and pointing to the staircase to the basement.

“Cool as a couple of Victorian ladies inviting us in for tea and cucumber sandwiches,” Janice, one of Gabe’s field sergeants, told me later. She had been first on the scene because she was working a case nearby.

I wasn’t up there, having been the one elected to stay with a groggy Van Baxter, whose hands we’d duct-taped together. Not that he was in any shape to attack anyone. Like I told the dispatcher, there’s a good chance Dove’s whack from her cane had given him a concussion.

Gabe arrived only minutes later. The paramedics were still checking Van’s vital signs and getting him ready to go to the hospital.

“Are you all right?” Gabe asked, touching my face with his hand.

“I’m okay. It was crazy. It was . . .” I looked up into his face, feeling a hysterical laugh start to bubble up out of me. I swallowed hard, knowing that if I started laughing, I wouldn’t be able to stop. What kind of picture would that present to the reporters waiting outside the museum? “Dove and Aunt Garnet were incredible. You aren’t going to believe what they pulled off.”

I told him the detailed story, while paramedics checked out Dove and Garnet. By the time I finished, Gabe’s mouth had turned up into a wry smile.

“I should be embarrassed,” he said. “No doubt I’ll be ridiculed for the rest of my career about our big sniper case being cracked by sheer accident and my wife being rescued from a hostage situation by two crafty old ladies and a trick cane. But, truthfully, all I can say is, thank you, God.”

“Sometimes,” I agreed, resting my forehead against his chest, “that’s the only thing appropriate to say.” I pulled back. “You called Yvette?”

“She was at home. She took the day off because her husband had some business to take care of.”

“Oh, no. That will be funny someday, I guess.”

“Or not,” he replied, his face sober now. “She’ll be here as soon as she can. She had to find someone to stay with her mom.”

“I wonder if she had any idea that Van was . . .”

“No,” Gabe said, his voice firm. “She couldn’t possibly have . . .” He didn’t finish his sentence. We locked eyes. His begged me not to say anything more on it. Were we thinking the same thing? She might have suspected, but couldn’t face the truth. Sometimes a person wanted something so much that they ignored what was obvious, what was right there in front of them.

Outside, crime scene tape completely circled the museum property, keeping the curious public and the media at a distance. The paramedics were wheeling Van’s gurney across the museum’s wooden floor when Yvette arrived. Without looking or speaking to anyone, she went to her husband, took his hand and looked down into his face. Everyone froze for a moment, waiting.

“Van,” she said in a harsh, agonized voice. “Why?”

He turned his head away and didn’t answer. She watched them wheel him away, her back as straight as an iron post. She turned and walked over to Gabe.

“Detective Arnaud,” he said, his voice kind. “You are relieved of your duties on this case.”

She nodded, swallowing a few times before she spoke. “I don’t know what got into him. Really, I don’t know why . . .” Her voice faltered and her eyes brimmed with tears. “I should have known.”

“He’ll need an attorney,” Gabe said. “Why don’t you take some time off?”

“Excuse me, Chief,” one of the uniformed officers broke in. “The media wants a statement for the evening news.”

“I’ll be right there,” Gabe said. He placed his hand on Yvette’s shoulder. “Will you be okay, Detective?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, raising her chin slightly. “I’ll be fine.”

We watched Gabe walk toward the front doors where the media waited.

“Are you really okay?” I asked Yvette. “Would you like some water?” I held out a bottle of water that someone had given me. “I didn’t drink out of it.”

“No, thanks. I’m fine.”

A group of detectives came up the stairs, chattering about Van’s capture. When they reached the top and saw Yvette, they instantly stopped talking. They glanced at each other, then looked away, embarrassed and unsure about how to react around her.

“C’mon,” I said, grabbing her arm and pulling her into a side office where we kept brochures, extra supplies and where docents stored their personal items while working at the museum reception desk. I closed the door behind us. “You’ll have some privacy here.”

“Like I’ll ever have privacy again,” she said bitterly. She looked past me, her face rigid with anger. “I had no idea. How stupid is that? I had
no
idea. I feel like such a fool. Why would he be so stupid? I don’t understand why.”

“I don’t know. Maybe he’ll tell someone when . . . I don’t know . . . maybe he’ll tell you why.” My babbling embarrassed me into silence.

She dropped her head, covering her face with her hands. In seconds, I could see her shoulders start to shake. I wasn’t sure what I should do. Though it felt awkward, I stepped closer to her and touched my hand on her shoulder. Her head jerked up. Her eyes were flooded with tears.

“You know what’s crazy?” she said. “I still love him. Isn’t that nuts? That I could still love a man who tried to kill cops, who tried to kill my friends?”

“We can’t help who we love.” I held out the water bottle. This time she took it. “What will you do?”

She gripped the water bottle in her hand. “I don’t know. I’m all he has. His parents are dead. He has no siblings and no friends. How can I walk away?” Then she looked up, her eyes full again. “But how can I stay?”

I had no answer.

We stood inside the room for another ten minutes without speaking. Through the door we could hear a muted symphony of men’s voices, like the murmuring conversations in a troubling dream. Finally, there was a knock at the door and it opened.

Gabe stuck his head in. “Benni? Someone said Detective Arnaud . . .”

“I’m right here, Chief,” Yvette said.

“You need to come to the station.”

“Yes, sir.” She turned and handed me the half-empty bottle. “Thank you, Benni.”

We watched her walk out the door.

“How are Dove and Aunt Garnet doing?” I asked.

Gabe rested a hand against the back of my neck, unconsciously kneading it. “They’ve been troopers, but they’re looking tired. They’ve given their statements and were interviewed by the
Tribune.
I was going to see if you could convince them to go home. Your dad and uncle are parked over by the mission. I’ll have an officer escort them out.”

“I’ll try.”

I found them sitting on a maroon velvet sofa in one of the Victorian exhibits. Gabe was right; they did look exhausted.

“Hey, you hooligans, lounging on the exhibits is against museum rules. I’m going to report you.” I perched one hip on a carved sofa arm. The wood dug into my flesh. No wonder the Victorians were so crankylooking in photographs.

“Gabe says we’re all done,” Dove said.

“For now. Your chariot awaits. Or at least Daddy in his truck awaits. He and Uncle WW are parked a block away. Gabe said an officer will walk you out.”

“Are you sure they don’t need us to give our statements again?” Aunt Garnet asked. She and Dove both seemed to be thoroughly enjoying their fifteen minutes of fame. But I also saw the fatigue and fragility in both their faces.

“You’ll have the remainder of your lives to talk about this,” I said. “Aunt Garnet, you are now officially my favorite hostage partner. You’re a rock star.”

“Why, thank you, Benni. I take that as a compliment.”

Then I hugged my gramma, not wanting to let go. “You were simply magnificent. An Oscar-worthy performance. I’m proud to be related to the Honeycutt girls. Where would I have been without you?”

“Oh, pshaw,” Dove said, patting me on the back. “You’d have thought of something if we hadn’t. You know my favorite saying . . .”

“Old age and treachery always win out over youth and skill,” I filled in, laughing.

“Amen, honey bun. You go on now and take care of your husband.”

I leaned down and hugged her. “I’m going back to the station with Gabe. I think I’m gonna bird-dog him for the next few hours so he doesn’t get too stressed out.”

“Keep us in the loop,” Dove said.

“You know I will.”

It was after four p.m., and I was sitting in Maggie’s office at the police station waiting for Gabe when I finally remembered my appointment with Lin Snider.

“Oh, no!” I said, jumping up.

“What is it?” Maggie asked, alarmed, turning from the tea she was steeping for both of us.

I looked at my watch in panic. “I had an appointment to see someone at one o’clock.”

Maggie laughed and turned back to her china teapot. “Sister, that train has left the station. I’m sure if they watch the news they realized you were a little tied up.” She giggled. “I mean, literally. It’s been the lead story for every broadcast. I heard AP picked it up. They might be hearing about you in Wichita.”

“I’d better remind Gabe to call his mom and sisters. And his uncle and aunt in Santa Ana. But this appointment was really, really important, and I’m not certain she would be watching television today.”

Maggie nodded over at her phone. “So, call her. Surely she’ll understand why you had to reschedule.”

“Thanks.” I called the cell phone number I had for Lin, but there was no answer. Then I tried her hotel. They put me through to her room, but, again, no answer.

Okay, I thought, I’ll try again in an hour. Maybe she gave up waiting for me and went out to eat.

In the next few minutes, Gabe finished up with the last of his meetings with various agencies involved in the sniper investigation. He stood in the doorway to his office, his face pale with fatigue.

“You ready to go home?” he asked me.

“Past ready.” I followed him into his office, waiting while he sat down behind his desk and turned off his computer. I went over to his window and looked out over the maintenance yards where two men in overalls were bent over the open hood of a black and white cruiser.

“Gabe, there’s someone here to see you,” I heard Maggie say.

I turned around in time to see Lin Snider walk into the room. She wore businesslike dark slacks, a white shirt and a tailored jacket. Her back was straight and her cheeks flushed. A surprised gasp lodged silent in my throat.

I glanced over at Gabe, who was still fiddling with his computer.

“Who is it?” he said.

She said simply one word. “Ortiz.”

He looked up. There was a moment of absolute quiet, when all I heard was my own breathing and the ticking of Gabe’s desk clock.

Then, to my surprise, he straightened up and his hand slowly came up in a salute.

“Lieutenant Spider,” he said.

She laughed, then answered, “At ease, Marine.”

CHAPTER 21

T
HEY GRINNED AT EACH OTHER. THEN GABE WALKED ACROSS HIS office and put his arms around Lin, pulling her into a fierce hug. I stood there watching my worst nightmare come true.

“I was going to wait until all of this sniper business was over before I came to see you,” Lin said, finally pulling away. “But I was worried about you. Old habits die hard, I guess.” She gave a sound that was half laugh, half sob.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” Gabe said. “After all these years. How are you?”

“We can talk about that later,” she said. “Right now, please, let’s fill Benni in. I can imagine what she must be thinking.”

Gabe turned to me, his face lit up like a young boy’s at Christmas. “Benni, this is Lieutenant Linora Snider, R.N. She served three tours in Vietnam. Toughest soldier I’ve ever met, bar none. Tougher than most marines. And she wraps a mean bandage too.”

Lin laughed, sounding young and carefree. “That hurts to say that, doesn’t it?” She arched an eyebrow at me. “I’m army, so that’s a real compliment from a marine. And he’s only saying that because I used to sneak him extra desserts. What I never told him was I did that for hundreds of guys.”

“What?” Gabe exclaimed, a huge grin still on his face. “And I thought I was special.”

She touched the side of her neck like she was going to brush hair away. Her hand fluttered nervously to her side. “Actually, Benni and I met a week ago, except I didn’t tell her I knew you.”

Her candor flabbergasted me.

Perplexed, Gabe looked from Lin to me then back to her. “Will someone tell me what’s going on?”

“Shall I start or would you like to?” Lin asked me.

“It’s a long story,” I replied. “Let me call my cousin and ask him to feed and walk our dog. I think we all need to go someplace quiet for dinner and talk.”