Love is Murder (8 page)

At that moment, a uniformed Hawaiian patrol officer strode over to join them. “Agent Burbank?” he asked.

“That would be me.” Sloane turned to the earnest young man.

“I’m Officer Kahanu. Two detectives and our command officer should be here momentarily. Our command officer already contacted the Maui FBI, and our tactical unit is ready to be dispatched. What’s our status?”

“Three hostages and an armed gunman.” Sloane frowned. The FBI Resident Agency in Maui consisted of two agents. Not great odds for what she needed. “Do any of your detectives have hostage negotiation training?”

“Two. Also, one of the FBI agents here is also trained. We’re small here, but we try to be prepared.”

“Good,” Sloane said with grim relief. “Because one of the hostages is a three-year-old boy. We’d better find a way to talk this offender out.”

She watched as Officer Kahanu raced back to meet his command officer. It would take them a couple of minutes to get here. In the meantime…

Her gaze slid to the outside door leading to the ballroom hall—which connected directly to the inside entry to the chapel. Security would be locking that door down any second.

Someone needed to be on the inside, barricading that door and communicating with the offender, working simultaneously with the lead hostage negotiator. Someone with training.

With a quick glance around, Sloane sprinted over and let herself in.

It only took a few seconds to get oriented. Then she crept down the hall to the door that separated her from the chapel—and the hostage scene.

* * *

Inside the chapel, Ted held the gun on Claire and reached out his other hand to Sam.

“It’s okay, buddy. It’s Daddy. Come on over here. You, Mommy and I are going through the inside of the hotel. I know a secret entrance. We’ll leave through there.”

Sam cringed against Claire and whipped his head from side to side. “No.”

“Don’t be afraid, buddy,” Ted continued, a muscle working in his jaw. “I’m not going to hurt you or Mommy. I just want us to go where no one can keep us apart.”

“You said Claire might die.” Sam didn’t release his grip on Claire’s gown. “Are you gonna shoot her?”

A hard swallow. “Of course not. I just said that so your mommy would remember how much she loves us.”

“What about Claire?”

“Claire will be fine. She’ll just stay with us until we leave the hotel. Then she’ll say goodbye and go home.”

Sam’s lower lip began to tremble. “I don’t want her to say goodbye. Can’t she come, too?”

“No, Sam,” Ted said, trying to keep his tone steady and gentle. “I only have three plane tickets. And enough money in this duffel bag to take care of you, me and Mommy. No one else.”

Kim noted the frenetic look in Ted’s eyes, heard the familiar tremor in his voice. Wondering how much he’d had to drink, she chose her words carefully. “Put down the gun, Ted. You’re scaring Sam. How do you expect him to believe what you’re saying when you have that pistol aimed at us?”

Ted half lowered the gun, but not enough so that Kim or Claire could charge him and try to snatch it away.

“I’m going to our son,” Kim told him quietly. “Maybe I can calm him down. That will be to all our advantages.”

“Fine.” Ted half waved the pistol. “But don’t just calm him down. Convince him. We’re running out of time.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

Kim and Claire exchanged glances. The clock was ticking. And no one seemed to be around to help them.

* * *

Within the next five minutes, Detectives Ignaccio and Silva had joined their on-scene command officer. Then came the Maui County SWAT team, and FBI Special Agent Fitzpatrick, who was the acting primary negotiator. EMT had also arrived, should they be needed. The area surrounding the chapel and the connecting wing were sealed off and surrounded. Just outside of that, of course, was the press, who smelled a story in the air.

Derek had just returned to the scene. He scanned the entire area, seeing no sign of his wife.

“Have you seen Agent Burbank?” he asked James.

The groom shook his head. “Not in the past few minutes. Last I saw her, she was standing over there, near the chapel corridor.”

Derek’s gaze made a quick sweep of the area. But the gesture was perfunctory. He knew exactly where Sloane was.

He whipped out his BlackBerry. His wife’s would be on silent. He punched her number.

She answered on the first ring.

“You’re inside the chapel wing,” he stated flatly.

“Right outside the chapel door,” she whispered back. “Is everyone there?”

“Yup.”

“Good. I need to speak to the primary hostage negotiator. Tell him I’m acting as a third party intermediary. Then find out everything you can on the bride’s ex-husband, Ted. He’s the offender.”

“Sloane, I know how good you are,” Derek replied. “But you’re in there without a gun, without backup and practically without clothes.”

“All the better. I’ll look less threatening. Please, Derek. The guy isn’t even sober, and he’s desperate. We’ll debate my decision later.”

“Fine. Just be careful.” Derek lowered his phone and signaled to Special Agent Fitzpatrick. In as few words as possible, he explained the situation.

Fitzpatrick took the phone. “Ms. Parker?” His tone was as pointed as his form of address. “This is Special Agent Fitzpatrick. Based on your husband’s explanation, the child and his mother aren’t in immediate danger.”

“But the maid of honor is,” Sloane replied. “If the offender knows you’re out there, he might act irrationally and kill her.”

“I realize that. I’ll try to talk him out.”

“You’d have to get a throw-phone in. That would tell him the FBI is here, which would freak him out. He might shoot Claire before even opening the door. Please, let me try first. I can take a more personal approach.”

“And maybe get yourself killed in the process.”

“That won’t happen. Give me ten minutes. If I can’t make headway by then, you can take over.”

A reluctant pause, during which Sloane could hear Derek saying, “She’s damned good, Fitzpatrick. Give her the time.”

“Fine,” Fitzpatrick said. “Do it.”

* * *

Sloane waited until Derek had filled her in on everything he’d learned about Ted Benton, plus an interesting tidbit about the suddenly quite intriguing Claire Hedgleigh. Then, Sloane turned off her phone and took a deep breath. Things were getting heated inside the chapel. Sam was crying. His mother was comforting him. And his father was losing patience—fast.

“Get over here, Claire!” he shouted. “We’re getting out of here.”

“How?” Claire asked. “I’m sure they’ve sealed off all the hotel entrances by now.”

“I mapped out a route through the basement. The door locks from the inside. I know what I’m doing.” A bitter laugh. “You’ve always thought I was an idiot. But I’m not.” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Now let’s go. We’re walking out the inside door. And you’re walking in front of us. My gun will be aimed at your head.”

Judging from the proximity of his voice, Sloane estimated that Ted was about halfway across the chapel. She wasn’t sure if Kim and Sam were with him, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

She knocked. “Mr. Benton?”

There was a flurry of motion from inside. “Who’s there?” Ted demanded. “And how do you know my name?”

“A few of the guests recognized you,” Sloane said calmly. “They’ve called the authorities. I wanted to talk to you first. My name is Sloane Parker. I’m a guest here at the hotel.”

“And why would I talk to you?”

“Because I used to work for the FBI. I’ve seen situations like yours. And I understand what you’re going through. I want to help you all get out safely.”

“Well, that doesn’t look like it’s gonna happen. Especially if the cops and the FBI are on their way.”

“You want your wife and son with you, is that right?”

“They’re my family, so, yeah.”

“You love them very much. You want to protect them. Am I still on track?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you really think that holding them in a locked room with a gun in your hand is the best way to keep them safe?”

A pause. “I just want to get us out of here.”

“I understand that. And I believe it can be done. But not at gunpoint.” Sloane heard Sam’s sobs. “Your son sounds frightened. Can’t you let him wait in the hall while we talk this out?”

“You’ll turn him over to the police,” Ted stated flatly. Angrily.

“No, I won’t. The outside doors are locked. He’ll stay right here and wait. The only problem is that he’ll still be scared. He’ll want his mom. So why don’t you let your wife and son both come out? You can talk to them through the door and make sure they haven’t moved.”

Sloane could hear his wheels turning.

“Is this a trick?” he demanded at last.

“How can it be?” Sloane asked. “You’re still holding Claire. I’m not about to jeopardize her life by grabbing your family and trying to run away.”

“You’re not gonna jeopardize your own life, either. I’m sure you’re armed. And you’re playing games to keep me talking till the cops get here.”

“First of all, I’m not armed. I told you, I’m no longer FBI. And why would I play games? To put all of you in danger? That would be counterproductive.”

Pausing, Sloane moved to the next step.

“You’re the one with the gun, Ted. I’m just a regular person who believes that families should be together. If you don’t believe me, unlock the door and check for yourself. I’m wearing a bathing suit and an open shirt. In two seconds you’ll see I’m unarmed. If I’m lying, you can shoot me. If I’m not, send Kim and Sam out and take me instead. You’ll have two hostages to bargain with.”

Another silence.

From inside the chapel, Sloane heard Kim implore, “Please, Ted. I won’t do anything stupid. You and I both love Sam. Neither one of us would risk his safety with gunfire. At least open the door and see if the woman is legit. We’ll stay back until you’re sure.”

“And if she is?”

“Then Sam and I will wait right outside the door. You can keep calling out to check if you don’t believe me. And when all this is over, you and I will talk.”

That seemed to catch him off guard. “You’d actually consider going with me by choice?”

“Like I said, we both want Sam to be happy. And if you’re willing to go to such dramatic extremes…how could I not be open to what you have to say? It all depends on what happens when you talk to this person.”

Good girl,
Sloane thought silently. She glanced at her watch. Five minutes to go.

“What do you say, Ted?” she asked. “Will you do this for your family? Let me in so we can talk.”

“And when the cops show up?”

“I’m former FBI. I can talk to whoever’s in charge. They’ll listen to me. And they won’t put my life in danger. You’re a lot safer if they know you’re holding me at gunpoint than you are if I’m standing out here in the hall.”

“Fine.” That obviously prompted his cooperation. “Stand behind me,” he ordered his ex-wife and son.

A rustle as they complied. Sloane took that time to drop her tote bag and snatch her BlackBerry, changing the ring status from silent to loud.

“I’ve got a gun on Claire Hedgleigh,” Ted announced to Sloane through the door. “So if you try anything…”

“I won’t.”

A hard click, and the door opened a little—enough so Ted could scrutinize Sloane, and Sloane could see the woman Ted grasped before him, his pistol pressed to the side of her head.

“Turn around,” Ted ordered.

Sloane pivoted slowly, hands raised, so he could see she had nothing to use as a weapon.

“Why do you have a BlackBerry?”

“To talk to the FBI and tell them to hold their fire. I’ll put it down as soon as I’m inside. I won’t touch it unless you let me.”

That seemed to satisfy him. He angled his head slightly. “You two wait outside,” he told Kim and Sam. In one motion, he flung open the door, pushed his family out, and yanked Sloane in. He slammed the door shut, then leaned past her and flipped the bolt.

“Put down the phone,” he commanded Sloane. He waited until she’d complied. “Now talk. My plan was to take my family and get away before the cops got here. Now this bitch—” he jabbed Claire’s forehead with his pistol “—screwed everything up. How do I get out of here without killing her?”

“To begin with, you think about your wife and son.” Sloane was assessing him as she spoke. He’d been drinking, but he wasn’t drunk. He was average height and build. With her skills in Krav Maga, she could take him easily. All she needed was the right opportunity.

“You’re not a killer,” she continued. “You proved that by releasing the guests. Plus, your son is obviously fond of Claire. How do you think he would react if you shot her? He looks up to you. You’re his dad.”

That caused a slight softening of his jaw.

“Let me negotiate with the FBI,” Sloane suggested. “I’ll convince them to hold off while you reunite with your family.”

“And then what? They’ll storm the place and take me away the minute I’m not holding you and Claire at gunpoint.”

Sloane drew a slow breath, as if she were struggling with a big decision. “If I were still with the Bureau, I’d say yes. But I’m not. And, like I said, I think families should be together.” Another pause. “I assume you have an escape route?”

Ted nodded.

“Good. Then use it. That phone is going to ring any second. At that point, I’ll know the agents are in place. I’ll keep them talking. You take your family and run. I’ll buy you enough time to get away. In return, you leave Claire and me here, unharmed. Fair enough?”

He scrutinized her warily for a long time. “Yeah,” he said at last. “Fair enough. But I’ll be taking my gun with me. So if you decide to change your mind…”

“I won’t.” Sloane’s gaze flickered to Claire, hoping against hope that what Derek had just told her about the clairvoyant was true. If there was ever a time to pick up on life-or-death energy, now was it.

Claire gave an almost-imperceptible nod.

At the same time, Sloane’s phone rang. No surprise. Her ten minutes were up.

Quizzically, she looked at Ted, waiting for permission.

“Get it,” he directed.