Vendetta (8 page)

Thirty minutes later, Nikki was staring at Mia's and Chloe's faces on the computer screen. Chloe's mom sat in the back-ground, listening in.

“Mia . . . Chloe . . . I appreciate your taking the time to talk with me again,” Nikki said.

Mia leaned forward. “Have you found Bridget?”

“Not yet, but I do have some more questions I'd like to ask you if that's okay.”

The girls nodded.

“We found Bridget's phone. We've been looking through it, trying to see if we can find anything that might help us track her down. We found one of her accounts where she goes by Cat. And shares a lot about depression and anorexia.”

Mia looked at Chloe, then shrugged. “It's nothing, really. She was just letting her feelings out. It's what we all do. Bridget spent a lot of time writing those poems.”

“They're pretty dark. Was she depressed?”

Chloe glanced at Mia. “I don't think Bridget would like us talking about this stuff with anyone.”

“Listen, girls, I have no desire to invade Bridget's privacy, but we need to find her. And it's possible what you can tell us will help us find a clue to where she is or even who might have her.”

“Okay.” Mia frowned, but she nodded in agreement. “We've been friends since we were in third grade. I guess things began to change after her dad died and her mom left. She never understood why her mom freaked out. Bridget's struggled ever since, but she really doesn't talk about any of that.”

“So she never talks about her mom?”

Mia shook her head. “Not very often, though she did tell me a couple of weeks ago that her mother was planning to come and see her.”

“When?” Nikki asked.

“She didn't say.”

“Did Bridget seem excited?”

“Yeah, but I think she was nervous too. I mean, she missed her mom, but they hadn't seen each other for a long time.”

So instead of talking to her mom or her brother, Bridget posted online, anonymously, to a group of strangers—people she'd never even met. It was a completely different world today than the one Nikki had grown up in. Social media had thrust kids into a world where it was far too easy to end up feeling completely alone in the middle of a crowd.

“What about cutting or suicide?” Nikki asked. “Did she ever talk about that?”

Chloe chewed at a fingernail. “Bridget cut a few times. Threatened suicide once or twice, but she never would have gone through with it.”

“How do you know that?”

“Bridget could be a bit of a drama queen. We just thought . . .”
Chloe hesitated. “We just thought she was looking for attention.”

“Did you tell an adult? Try to get her to seek help?”

Mia dropped her gaze away from the computer's camera. “She made us promise not to tell anyone. And I guess we didn't think she was serious.”

Nikki pressed her lips together, hoping they were right. “I know this has been hard, girls. But I appreciate your talking with me. If I come up with any more questions, I'll let you know.”

Tyler, Jack, and Gwen were still sorting through Bridget's information when Nikki ended the call.

Tyler pushed back his chair. “I'm going to grab some water from the vending machine outside the visitor center. Anyone want something?”

“I'll come with you, actually,” Nikki said, standing up. She needed a couple minutes of fresh air to think and clear her mind so she could begin to assemble the pieces of Bridget she'd been given. Whether she'd truly been suicidal or not, she'd clearly painted a persona of a vulnerable, hurting young girl. And
he'd
found her. A girl who was vulnerable and willing to respond to the attention of a stranger. Able to fall in love with the image of someone she'd never met.

They heard a scream from the visitor center's lobby, which had been reopened to tourists, as she and Tyler walked by. Nikki bolted inside with Tyler, then froze.

A woman stood in the middle of the large room with a gun clutched between her unsteady hands. “Nobody move!”

Another scream rang through the room.

A ranger—Ford, according to his name tag—reached for his gun.

“Don't even think about it.” The woman fired a blind shot, her hands still shaking. The bullet slammed into one of the
displays of a black bear, shattering the glass six feet from where Nikki stood. The room went silent. “Nobody. Move.”

A mother huddled beside the information kiosk, her toddler whimpering, while an older couple crouched next to them.

Nikki studied the woman. Late forties, slightly overweight. Hair unwashed and pulled back in a tight ponytail. But what bothered Nikki the most was the look in her eyes. She was clearly high on something.

“How did she get in here with a weapon?” someone shouted behind her.

“Don't move . . . none of you . . . I'm the one who'll be asking the questions.” She pointed the gun at an old man clutching a map of the park to Nikki's left. It fluttered silently to the floor. “Because until I get the answers I'm looking for, the next person who moves, I'm going to shoot.”

Time seemed to tick by in slow motion as Nikki absorbed the scene around her. The majority of the tourists who had been milling in the lobby of the visitor center had scattered at the sight of a gun. Those remaining now hid behind displays or the information counter. At least four were still potentially in the line of fire besides herself. Tyler—who'd managed to step between the shooter and a young girl and her mother—Ford, and a couple in their mid-forties crouched ten feet to her left.

Basic protocol made it a priority to isolate and contain a gunman, then secure the perimeter in order to keep the gunman and any civilians separated. But in this situation, they weren't going to have the luxury of setting up tactical and negotiating teams. Neither was there time to get information on who the woman was or why she was here.

Jack and Gwen were still back at the command post. Once someone discovered what was going on, they'd bring in backup. But for now, it was up to her, Tyler, and Ford to handle the situation themselves.

We need a way out of this
, God. A way out where no one gets hurt.

Nikki took a step toward the woman. She needed to find a way to connect, and that began by hearing her out. “My name's Nikki Boyd. I work with the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation, and I'd like to try to help. You said you had questions?”

The woman shifted the weapon in front of her, aiming it this time at Nikki. “I said don't come any closer.”

“Okay.” Nikki held up her hands and took a step backward to give the woman some space. “I'm moving back now.”

“I know who you are. You're with them, and they . . . refused to help me.”

“I want to help you.”

“No . . . no, I don't believe you.” She held the gun out in front of her, clearly panicked. “I want everyone over here, standing in front of the information counter where I can see you.”

“Okay.” Nikki nodded at the other hostages. “You heard her. Everyone move slowly toward the counter.”

Something moved in Nikki's peripheral vision. She shifted her gaze to the right where the ranger stood. Ford had turned toward the counter and was slowly drawing his weapon from the holster on his hip.

But he wasn't fast enough.

The woman's weapon went off again. This time the ranger dropped to the floor. The little girl to her left screamed.

“You should have listened to me,” the woman shouted.

Nikki glanced back at the ranger. Blood had already begun to pool around the midsection of his tan shirt.

Nikki held up her hands. “I'm going to help him.”

“I didn't mean to shoot him, but I'm not going to let them win this time.” The woman's hands were shaking, her finger still against the trigger. She was breathing hard and fast. They had to find a way to de-escalate the situation and get the gun
away from her. Because if they didn't, this could quickly turn into a bloodbath.

“Nikki . . .”

Ignoring Tyler and the risk, Nikki hurried to the ranger's side, pulled off her fleece jacket, and pressed the fabric against his side in an attempt to stop the bleeding. She looked up at Tyler, caught his gaze, then nodded for him to take over. They were going to have to use whatever resources they had. And at the moment, her one trump card was Tyler.

She could sense a brief moment of hesitation in his eyes before she turned to concentrate on the ranger. But years of special ops training had given him the negotiating skills needed for a situation like this.

Tyler held his hands up. “My name's Tyler Grant.”

“Are you with them too?” she asked.

“With the police?”

She nodded, her jaw tense, gun still held up in front of her. Finger resting on the trigger.

“No.” Tyler kept his voice calm and even. Only Nikki could sense the battle raging inside him. “I don't work with the police, but my job is to help people. And I'd like to help you. The first thing we need to do, though, is take care of this man. If you let him go, we can make sure he gets the medical treatment he needs—”

“No. I don't trust them. They took my husband.”

“Who? The police?”

Nikki caught the panic in the ranger's eyes. “Ford . . . Ford! I need you to stay with me. Come on. You're going to be fine.”

She quickly evaluated the situation while Tyler continued to talk. He needed to convince the woman to let Ford go. His breathing was steady but rapid, his pulse weak. Any gunshot wound—no matter where on the body—could be life threatening. In this case, there was the high probability of massive internal injuries.

Nikki continued pressing on the wound. “He's got to get medical help, Tyler.”

“I'm sorry about your husband,” Tyler said, “but she's right. The ranger needs medical help.”

Nikki looked up. Sweat beaded on the woman's forehead. Her hands shook. Her rapid speech probably meant she'd taken an “upper” drug like cocaine rather than drinking alcohol. But people were capable of doing all kinds of crazy things with adrenaline rushing through them.

“No . . . no one is leaving. Not until someone answers my questions.”

Tyler took a step forward. “What are your questions, ma'am?”

“Ma'am . . .” She let out a nervous laugh. “It's been a long time since someone called me ma'am.”

Nikki watched the woman's eyes shift to the right to the couple at the far end of the information desk, then jump back to Tyler.

Tyler took another step forward. “What would you like me to call you, then?”

“Wait . . . Don't come closer.” She gripped the gun tighter and pointed it at Tyler, her hands still shaking.

“Okay.” Tyler raised his hands in defeat, then took a step back, but his gaze never left the woman's face. “Can you tell me your name?”

She hesitated again, as if sizing him up. “Loretta. My name's Loretta.”

“Loretta.” Tyler smiled. “My grandmother's name was Loretta. She used to make me lemonade and peach cobbler in the summertime.”

“I like peach cobbler.”

“I do too. You said you had a question, Loretta. Can you tell me what it is?”

Nikki felt her heartbeat accelerate. Ford's skin had paled to a
chalky white. Blood had already soaked through a double layer of her fleece jacket. They were running out of time.

“You're going to be okay, Ford. Stay with me . . .”

“I'm looking for someone,” Loretta said. “Her name is Bridget Ellison.”

“Do you know Bridget?” Tyler asked. “Because we're also looking for her.”

“Yes. I know Bridget.”

“Do you know where she is?”

Loretta pressed her lips together. “The last time I saw her she was eating an ice cream cone. Chocolate mint with sprinkles. She loves sprinkles. Has loved them for as long as I can remember.”

Nikki watched as Tyler took another step forward. “You're her mother, aren't you?”

Caution flickered in Loretta's eyes. “How'd you know?”

“I've seen her picture. She looks like you. She has your brown eyes. And the same color hair.”

“Except the blond highlights in her hair are natural. I color mine.” She pulled a folded piece of paper out of her pocket and held it up. “They gave me this flyer when I got here. She looks so . . . grown-up.”

“We're trying to help find her, and we could use your help as well. But first, I need you to let the ranger go. Would you do that for me?”

She was still holding the gun in front of her, her attention on the flyer they'd been handing out. Nikki saw that Jack and Anderson were just outside the other exit doors behind her, ready to react if given the opportunity. “I don't know. I need to find Bridget.”

Sirens sounded in the distance.

“Someone called the police?” Panic laced Loretta's voice.

“It's an ambulance,” Tyler said. “The ranger needs a doctor. Let us take him outside.”

“I don't know . . .”

“Please, Loretta.” Nikki shifted her weight beside Ford, careful to keep continual pressure on the wound. “He's going to die without medical help, and I know you don't want that.”

Nikki could see the flashing lights of the ambulance as it drove into the parking lot. Police backup would be there as well, ready to take over the situation.

“I promise I won't go anywhere,” Tyler said, “and I'll try to answer your questions.”

Loretta glanced out the window. “I'll let two paramedics with a stretcher in.”

“You made a good choice, Loretta. Thank you,” Tyler said. “I'm going to call someone and let them know it's safe to come inside and get the ranger.”

“Tell them not to try anything heroic,” Loretta said. “And no one else leaves. This isn't over.”

Nikki turned back to Ford. He was still conscious, but his pupils had dilated and his pulse was weakening. He was going into shock. “We're going to get you out of here, Ford. The paramedics are coming for you right now.”

A minute later, two uniformed medics rolled Ford out on a stretcher. Nikki rubbed her bloodstained hands against her pant legs as the glass door to the center shut behind them.

God, don't let
him die . . . please.

Tyler motioned for Nikki to move beside him. “Nikki works on the state's missing persons task force. She's working with the park rangers and the local police to find your daughter.”

“I said I don't believe you.” Loretta's voice cracked. “The police took my husband. Promised . . . they promised he would be back, but he never came back.”

“I'm sorry for whatever happened to your husband,” Nikki said, “but my job is to find people, Loretta. People like Bridget.
Which is what I'm trying to do, but I need you to trust me so I can help you.”

Nikki caught the conflict in Loretta's eyes.

“I saw her picture on TV. She was such a beautiful baby. She never cried. I could put her on a blanket on the floor, and she would play, content for hours.” Loretta stared at Bridget's photo on the flyer, then looked up at Nikki. “Why didn't somebody call me and tell me she was in trouble?”

“Your son tried to call you.”

“Kyle?” Loretta's frown deepened. “Where is he?”

“On his way here right now. He's been doing everything he can to help us.”

“I thought . . . I thought they were going to hurt her. Like they hurt my husband.”

“No one wants to hurt Bridget,” Nikki said. “We want to find her.”

Loretta's hands were trembling harder now. Nikki glanced down the row of hostages. Until the gun was out of the woman's hands, none of them were safe.

“Loretta, have you had any contact with your daughter?”

“Of course. I'm her mother. She sent me a card for my birthday last month.” Loretta smiled. “It had a flower on the front. A red rose.”

“Does she call you?” Nikki asked.

“She emails me sometimes.”

“What do the two of you talk about?”

“School. Boys,” Loretta said. “Do you think you can find her?”

“Yes, I do, but not as long as I'm in here. I need to be out there. Talking to people who might have seen her. Making sure everyone sees her picture. Can you let me do my job so I can find your daughter?”

Loretta looked down at her weapon, shoulders slumping. “I shouldn't have brought the gun.”

Nikki took another step forward. “No, you shouldn't have.”

“I didn't think . . . I didn't think anyone would listen to me.”

“I'm listening. Let me have the gun, Loretta. And I'll do everything I can to help you find your daughter.”

Loretta hesitated, then slowly handed Nikki the gun.

“They're going to arrest me, aren't they?” Loretta said.

Nikki made the call. Local police moved in to handcuff Loretta and read her her rights. Nikki handed the gun to one of the officers as Kyle arrived at the front door.

“Clear the room and make sure everyone is okay,” she said to Jack and Gwen, before turning to Tyler. “Thank you.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” Nikki glanced down at her clothes, not missing the worry in his gaze. She needed to wash her hands and change, but first there was something else she needed to do. “Just glad it's over. I need to speak with Kyle. He needs to know what's going on.”

Tyler nodded. “Go.”

Nikki hurried outside the building behind the officers and Loretta. “We need to talk, Kyle.”

“Wait a minute.” He hesitated as they led his mother past him toward one of the squad cars. “What's going on?”

His mother looked back and caught his gaze. “I'm sorry, Kyle.”

Nikki pulled him aside. “They're arresting your mother. You'll get a chance to talk with her later, but for now you need to stay out of the way.”

He watched his mother walk away, then turned back to Nikki. “They told me she came in with a gun and took hostages. That she shot someone.”