Fidelity (Infidelity #5)(84)

“Mr. Spencer, Miss Collins is right here.” He nodded at Charli.

“Bryce, please let them all go. There are children.”

“Witnesses, darling…” Chelsea’s scream sounded in the background.

Charli leaned forward on the table. “Oh God, Chelsea. Bryce, please.”

“She’s fine. Just waiting for you to arrive. Remember how this works?”

“Bryce,” Suzanna said. “Honey, I’m here too.”

“Mom? Why are you here? Where are you?”

“We’re here, dear, right outside the hotel.”

“Both of you come in. Mom, you can be a witness too. Remember, Alexandria,” Bryce said, “you said you’d say yes in front of witnesses?”

Charli’s face fell forward as her body shuddered with tears. “Bryce, please.”

“Oh, darling, you know how I like begging.” His voice moved away from the phone, it was distant as he spoke to Chelsea, telling her she could beg. He wanted her to. He demanded it.

“Motherfucker,” I muttered under my breath.

“Bryce,” Charli said. “Let the kids go. I’ll beg if you want.”

My teeth clenched tighter, listening to her words, her fear.

Fucking impotent was how I felt.

“You come in here,” he said, speaking again into the phone. “And they can leave.”

“Why are you doing this?” Suzanna asked. “Why? We know you didn’t hurt that girl. You will be found not guilty. Honey, why?”

“I can’t spend another night in jail. I won’t.” His volume rose. “Get on the fucking ground, all of you.”

Screams rang out, echoing through the van from the speakers.

“Darling,” his voice was again soft. “There’s a guy in here, a priest, minister… or something. Fuck, he could be a rabbi… I’m not sure. It’s not the Presbyterian Church, but he can marry us, just as you promised. Five minutes. Pretend I’m that asshole who you can tell time for. I’m hanging up. Be in here in five minutes or… well, you know how this works.” The line went dead.

“What the fuck?” I asked.

“I’m going,” Charli said as she stood.

“Like hell you are!” I pulled her back to the seat. “Get your sharpshooters. Isaac got the message. He’s working on getting Spencer near a window.”

“What?” Suzanna cried. “No, you can’t hurt him.”

“Lady,” I shouted, my finger pointed in her direction, “did you not just hear him? He’s psycho!”

“No!” She stood. “He’s distraught.” She turned on Charli. “And it’s your fault. It’s all your fault.”

We all stilled as the sound of a small explosion sounded in the distance. A car could have backfired, perhaps fireworks popped, or had it been a gunshot? The negotiating officer reached the door first as Suzanna slid back to the chair, dropped her head to the table, and cried.

“Suzanna,” Charli said, “I’m so sorry. I never wanted—”

“Suspect apprehended…” The announcement came loud and clear.

Apprehended. Not down. Not shot.

Charli’s eyes opened wide. “Chelsea?”

We pushed past Suzanna and climbed from the truck. A multitude of officers were converging upon the front of the hotel. I scanned the windows. They were all intact.

Maybe we hadn’t heard a gunshot?

Deloris stood outside the roped-off area; her eyes met mine as she nodded.

“Oh, Nox,” Charli exhaled as she dropped my hand and ran forward.

With his arm around her shoulder and Chelsea buried against his side, Isaac was leading her toward us. Charli met them first.

“Chelsea…” Her words weren’t forming as they hugged and cried.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I got the shot, the one I’d been waiting for,” Isaac said. “When he hung up the phone, he was angry. Before that, it was weird. He was calculating and methodical. No emotion. But after hearing Alex’s voice, he lost it, enough to turn his back. He’d made everyone lie down.”

“Dead?” I asked.

“Sir,” an officer said to Isaac. “Sir, come with us.”

Isaac nodded and turned to me. “No, sir. Wounded.”

A moment or for twenty years? Deloris’s question came back.

Twenty years.

“My private security license is in…” Isaac began to say as he handed his gun to the policeman.

I turned back to Charli. She and Chelsea were surrounded by uniforms. I turned to Deloris. Somehow in the mayhem she’d made her way to this side of the tape.

“Six o’clock,” she said.

I pivoted, my gaze meeting Alton Fitzgerald’s. He was being held back by the police who were no doubt upholding the restraining order Charli had mentioned.

“Nox,” Charli called.

As I made my way through the paramedics, I wrapped one arm around her and the other around Chelsea. “I-I…”

I couldn’t come up with the words I wanted to say.

“We’re good,” Charli said. “They want to take both of us to the hospital.”