UNTIL THE BELL TOLLS
By TIPPER
CHAPTER FOUR: SHAKING
Ray couldn't do this. He had been sitting here, in a wheelchair, staring at Lloyd for five minutes, and if he had to stay here a moment longer, he'd go insane.
At first, he'd been happy about coming down here. At about 7:00 in the morning, the surgeon who'd treated Lloyd had woken him and told he could finally see Lloyd, to see for himself that he was still alive, and he'd actually smiled at the thought. The whole way to Lloyd's room—which was set downstairs in a basement corridor for prisoner isolation—the doctor had told him how well the surgery had gone, how lucky Lloyd was that the bullet hadn't done more damage, how Lloyd was already breathing on his own and that they expected him to make a full recovery. Ray had simply nodded, glad of it all, thinking to himself that everything was going to be alright now.
But the actual sight of him….All those tubes and machines and buttons and lights….
He knew, in his rational mind, that Lloyd was alive inside all that equipment, but it still looked unreal. It looked painful. It looked wrong.
He didn't want to be here. He wouldn't have thought of himself a coward, but sitting here, looking at someone who just yesterday had been jumping around the office, talking too much and smiling that weird creepy smile of his, making Ray proud yet again that he'd picked Lloyd for this team, and now seeing him like this. Lloyd looked all but dead.
And it was Ray's fault.
Riley was right. Ray had told the cops to watch the cons, to make sure they didn't step out of line. If he'd been less contemptuous in front of the local LEOs, been more careful in how he'd portrayed them to that captain and his men, then maybe….maybe….
Stop it. This wasn't his fault, damn it! He didn't pull the trigger. And he'd only done what was right when he'd told the cops to watch the cons. They needed watching. And it's not like Lloyd hadn't run before—it's how Ray had met him. He couldn't have known this would happen.
Right?
"Not what you thought it would be, is it?" a voice asked from the doorway. Ray looked up, and frowned to see the ER doctor who'd treated his leg. Dr. Nguyen looked, if possible, even more haggard than she had last night. She was in regular clothes, loose fitting jeans and a sweatshirt, and her short black hair was sticking out in weird directions. She was wiping her glasses on the shirt, so she squinted at him. Ray frowned slightly—she'd never come back last night, at least not while he was awake. He didn't like that she'd lied to him.
"What do you want?" he demanded.
She bit her lips briefly, then shrugged as she put her glasses back on. "Look, I'm…I'm sorry. I came to apologize."
"Apologize."
She nodded. "I didn't try to get you in to see your prisoner. But turns out it wasn't up to me anyway—you'd already been given clearance and orders came down from above to wheel you up here. So…" She gave another shrug. "Here you are."
He looked back at Lloyd. "Yeah." Here I am.
"You know," she said, "for someone who says he didn't fire the gun, you're looking pretty guilty."
Oh for crying out loud! "What's your problem?" he snapped.
She gave a tired shrug, dark eyes watching him intently. "I only want to make sure that you're not going to hurt him."
"I'm not...Wait, what?" His anger faded, leaving behind only confusion. "You think I'm going to hurt him?"
"It's happened. I know he was shot by a cop, though I don't know why. Maybe he hurt your partner, or someone else you care about, or maybe he's going to tell people something you don't want them to hear. And, as I said before, you've got that look."
He stared at her a moment longer, before setting his jaw stubbornly. "And as I said before, doc, it ain't like that. You have no idea what you're talking about."
She watched him a moment longer, and then sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "I hope that's true. If it is, I'm sorry. I just…." She glanced at Lloyd, and then again at Ray. "I'd be happier if you weren't here. Whatever he's done, he's a patient right now. He needs rest."
Ray stared at her, and then at Lloyd. "It's not your call, doc."
"No. It's yours."
Ray didn't look at her, not wanting to give her any satisfaction that she'd rattled him.
But after a long moment, when he didn't hear her speak again, he looked back at the doorway. She was gone. He sighed, and lowered his head.
Doc was right about one thing. It would be better if he wasn't here, mostly because he didn't want to be here. And even if he did, would his face really be the one that Lloyd wanted to see first when he woke up?
No, but he knew whose face Lloyd would want to see. And someone did need to be here to protect…to watch Lloyd.
He lifted the jacket slung over his legs and felt inside the pocket for his phone.
…
…
Charlie frowned slightly as he hung up after talking to Ray, but he saw no good reason to deny the other man's request. Standing up, he walked out of the office, pausing to take in how tired his team was…but also how dedicated. Even Shea had his head in a file, marking things with a highlighter. Feeling a little more energized by that, Charlie knocked on an empty desk to get their attention.
"I just got off the phone with Ray."
All three looked up expectantly, and Julianne actually stood up, her anxiety clear. He smiled at her, waving her to sit down as he spoke.
"Ray let me know that they've discharged him. He said his leg aches a bit, but not enough to stop him from wanting to get back her to help us on the case."
Erica looked happy, but Shea frowned, his hands gripping into fists. "What about Lloyd?"
"He's with him now. Docs told him that Lloyd should be fine. He'll need a while to recover, but he'll be okay." He smiled slightly. "I guess it'll keep him out of a cell for a while longer."
Erica and Shea both grinned, and even Julianne cracked a smile. Charlie nodded at her.
"One more thing, Julianne," he began. "Ray wants to get out of there, and I can't really blame him. But someone has to be with Lloyd, so—"
"Me?" Julianne asked, standing up again. She looked terrified. "You want me to go? Up there? To the hospital?"
"Ray says he's worked out a deal with the staff. Since Lloyd is already isolated, there's less of a concern about the use of mobile devices. You'll be able to use your laptop and your phone, so you'll be able to do most of what you usually do for us from there."
She just blinked. If anything, the deer in headlights expression was even more obvious. Charlie tilted his head, not fully understanding her reaction. He thought she liked Lloyd. In fact, he had been growing a little concerned that she liked him a little too much—that Lloyd might be abusing her trusting nature too much, especially after Ramsey. But then he remembered that it was Lloyd, and that Julianne was probably tougher than she looked. Although right now…
"Something the matter, Julianne?"
"You want me to go to a hospital," she said again, as if she didn't understand the concept. Charlie's frown deepened.
"Yes."
"I can't." She whispered, her eyes absurdly wide, her voice breathy. "Please."
Charlie glanced over his shoulder at Erica and Shea, who were both listening in. Shea looked annoyed, but Erica looked almost sympathetic, as if she understood something Charlie didn't yet. Charlie sighed and lowered his voice.
"I don't want to make you, Julianne, but Ray has a point. He's probably more useful to me in the field, whereas you can do your job just as well up there as—"
"It's not that. It's….I don't…I don't like hospitals."
It was a very simple statement, quietly delivered in an almost childlike voice. But, for the first time, Charlie understood a little more of what was going on. This wasn't a child not wanting to visit a hospital, this was an adult woman. That statement had a lot more behind it than its simplicity implied.
Problem was, he knew Ray didn't like them either. Maybe not to the same depths as Julianne, but….
Ray had also pointed out something to Charlie that had resonated—Lloyd should have a friend there when he woke up and, to be honest, Ray wasn't Lloyd's friend. Neither was Charlie. But Julianne…Julianne was, even if Charlie didn't like that fact very much.
"I get that you don't like hospitals," Charlie said to her, keeping his voice as low as possible. "I'm guessing that you've had your fill of them over the years, for one reason or another. But I need you to overcome that feeling, Julianne. Lloyd should have someone there when he wakes up."
She grimaced slightly, as if in pain from the notion, and her hands fluttered nervously.
"Please, Julianne," Charlie pressed. "I could order Ray to stay there, but, you and I both know that, if it were up to Lloyd, Ray's face would not be the first one he saw when he wakes up after being shot."
The grimace turned into a frown. Her hands moved to under the desk, probably so he wouldn't see them shake—a little late for that. He shook his head and tried one more time.
"Please, Julianne. Don't make this an order."
She looked down at her desk, and he saw her jaw clench. She gave a sharp nod, and Charlie gave her a grateful smile. At that moment, Julianne's phone rang, sharp and tinny, so Charlie moved away, walking over to Shea's desk.
Shea was looking down at his papers, but he didn't seem to be reading anything. There was something truly hard and ugly in his expression, and his hands were still balled into fists. Charlie frowned, recalling the conversation from the night before. Whatever was eating away at Daniels, it didn't seem to have lessened in intensity—if anything, it had grown worse.
"Shea," Charlie asked, keeping his voice pitched low, "is there something more you want to say to me?"
Closing his eyes, Shea sighed. "I just—"
"Oh my God," Julianne gasped. "Are you sure? Where was it?"
Charlie spun around to look at her. "Julianne? What's the matter?"
Her eyes were wide as saucers as she met his gaze. "It's the state police. They've…they've found a bomb. They think Hughes planted it."
"What?" he asked. "Who found it? Where?"
"Perrytown Elementary School. I…hang on…." She listened to whomever was talking on her phone for a minute, then looked up again. "According to the local police, it was attached to the bell system, set to go off at 8:50 am tomorrow morning, ten minutes after the call to homeroom. If they hadn't gone in today to check the system…."
"Oh my god," Erica whispered, covering her mouth with her hand.
"Perrytown," Shea repeated, standing. "Isn't that—?"
"—the town next to Leadville, where Hughes' wife and kid live," Charlie finished. "Yeah." He looked at Julianne. "Are they sure the bomb was Hughes'?"
"It's too big of a coincidence to ignore, with the bell and what we told them to look out for. They've called in the bomb squad to take it apart, so no one has had a good look at it yet. They called us because they want our help confirming that their hunch is right, and that Hughes planted it."
"A school," Erica muttered, her eyes wild and unfocused.
"Wait," Shea said, flipping through the initial list of places Lloyd had come up with. He frowned deeply as he looked up. "Perrytown Elementary isn't on Lloyd's list."
"It's not on my list either," Julianne said, her cheeks flushing. "I never thought—"
"Neither did Lloyd, obviously," Charlie said gruffly. "How did they find the bomb?"
"The bells have been malfunctioning in the cold. The maintenance staff was planning to run a test of all the systems this morning, since it's a Sunday and no one would be around—luckily one of them saw the bomb before…." She shook her head.
"What about Hughes' son and ex-wife?"
"Not there. Still no sign."
Charlie frowned. "They're sure?"
"They checked all the rooms before evacuating. They're not there." Julianne looked down at her watch. "Bomb squad is about an hour away."
"I don't understand," Erica said then. "Hughes is an arsonist, not a bomber. And what does that school have to do with Hughes?"
"It was his son's school." She sat down heavily in her chair. "Perrytown is regionalized with Leadville. Connor Hughes is in the fourth grade class."
Shea fell back against the desk behind him. "Christ."
Erica's eyes were still wide. "But that means—"
"That this has become about more than just a kidnapping," Charlie said. "It's escalated to stopping a bombing. Or bombings." He frowned at Julianne. "Call Ray, give him a heads up." He looked at the others. "Everyone, pack your things, we leave in ten minutes. Julianne, tell Ray we'll drop you at the hospital and pick him up on the way."
Julianne visibly shuddered, but nodded, already dialing Ray's number.
…
…
Erica pressed herself up against the SUV's window, her legs up on the seat so she could wrap her arms around them. She was shivering, had been on and off since they'd turned off the highway ten minutes ago, and she wasn't sure why.
Though it might have something to do with the fact that she'd grown up in a town like this.
Perrytown was a small, rural town about ten miles west of the small city of Redkill. It boasted one of everything, most of which were contained inside a building that looked like a single story, 1970's strip mall. The library, post-office, clerk's office and police station were all right next to each other in the building, bookended on one side by a small white church and on the other by an old silver diner. The elementary school was directly across the street from the diner.
The small parking lot was packed—four bright red fire engines gathered tightly around the building, along with several police cruisers, two ambulances and three state trooper vehicles, all quietly standing in anticipation. Two black SUVs with NY State Police license plates were also parked to one side, and Charlie pulled up their truck alongside. Bomb squad, Erica figured, and maybe BCI or counter-terrorism.
Ray was out the door as soon as they stopped, before Charlie even had the engine off. Just as well, no one had said anything since they'd picked him up twenty minutes ago, except in greeting and to ask about Lloyd. Shea hadn't said anything to Ray at all—Erica didn't think he'd even looked at him. She wasn't sure what that was about.
She opened the back door and stepped down, crossing her arms as the cold air quickly seeped through her jacket. She felt Shea step down to stand next to her, but neither of them made a further move to go anywhere near the other cops or the building. Charlie grunted something about them staying with the SUV before he jogged after Ray. Sort of an unnecessary order.
"That's a lot of cops," Shea muttered. Erica didn't respond, she didn't really need to. A bomb in a school—if they'd thought this case was busy with law enforcement agencies before, it was going to go crazy with them now. Charlie was going to have his hands full trying to keep a handle on the case, or maintain any kind of lead. Especially since they hadn't pegged this location as a target. Which was something that still really bothered her….
"Why didn't Lloyd predict this location?" she asked.
Shea shook his head, looking away.
Crossing her arms more tightly as a sharp, frigid burst of wind cut through her, Erica took a better look around the town. Driving in, the homes had mostly been bungalows and trailer homes, but there were a few larger houses. Opposite the school on the far side, she could see a few nice colonials and a really pretty brick tall Georgian house with slate tiles…with a large foreclosure sign in front of it. Some of the other houses also had "For Sale" signs on them, and at least two more foreclosure signs. It looked like half the town was for sale or on the verge of it.
Christ, this town is poor. It was obviously barely struggling to survive, and now this? These people already had so much to worry about….How could Hughes, how could anyone, do something like this to a town as obviously helpless as this one?
And to kids? Her daughter went to a school that looked almost exactly like this one…
Her already tired eyes prickled with tears, and she quickly rubbed at them to get rid of the moisture.
"Diner look open?" Shea asked then, peering across the street. His tone was coarse, as if he didn't care at all about this place or what was going on here. Anger surged inside her.
"Why?" she demanded. "Don't feel like doing your job this morning? You want to go hide in the diner with the locals and pretend someone didn't almost blow up a school?"
Shea's eyebrows lifted. "Whoa," he said, raising his gloved hands. "What crawled up your ass?"
She snarled, and looked away. "Nothing."
"I was just thinking that a cup of coffee would be nice. We didn't get much sleep, remember?"
She closed her eyes. Of course. The anger subsided, replaced by embarrassment—she could feel her face flush.
"Yeah," she agreed. "Coffee would be good."
"I'll go see if Charlie can lend us a couple of bucks."
Erica nodded, climbed back into the warm SUV and tried to stop shaking.
…
…
Julianne stood in the doorway to Lloyd's room, looking at the stranger lying on the bed. Oh sure, objectively, she knew it was Lloyd; he was buried somewhere inside that deathly still body, tubes and wires surrounding him on all sides. But that didn't mean she wanted to see it. See him. Like this.
The heart monitor beeped, cold and empty. The machines hummed and wheezed. It wasn't the first time she'd seen a dead man kept alive.
He's not dying. This isn't like dad. Rationality tried to be heard, but it didn't resonate. It rarely did.
The hospital stank, like bleach and antiseptic. Her heels had echoed down the hall to reach his room, loud as gunshots in her ears. Her breathing had been abnormally loud, her hands trembling as the corridor's silence threatened to overwhelm. But none of it was as horrible as standing here, looking at his cold, still frame, knowing there was nothing, nothing, she could do to make this better.
He's not dead. He's not dying. Everything is going to be okay. You can do this.
Blowing out a slow breath, she stepped deeper into the room and closed the door—but the snap of the lock in place instantly brought the fear into sharp focus. She started to shake, her partial nosocomephobia trying to overwhelm her, and she pressed up against the door, needing its solidity to ground her.
Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop….
She curled her hands into fists and, as she'd been taught, listened to her breathing. She started to count the inhales, slowing them down, until, eventually, the shaking subsided and her heart stopped trying to beat itself out of her chest.
Okay. You're okay.
Deliberately not looking at Lloyd, she moved away from the door and to the plastic chair against the wall opposite the bed. Dropping her things onto it, she looked at what she could use for a desk…The bedside tray table would do. Pulling it over, she opened her bags and started setting up her laptop and papers. She soon got lost in the comforting rhythms of organizing her new workspace.
And then the phone rang, and she nearly broke into a million little pieces of terror.
Scrambling, she pulled it out of her purse with a shaking hand and pressed it to her ear. It was Charlie—he wanted to make sure she would be able to work in the room, that she had everything she needed. She told him that she was fine, everything was alright, wireless was working fine and that she'd have a new list of locations associated with either Meredith or Connor Hughes in twenty minutes. After he hung up, she sighed heavily, and started running searches on the laptop. She felt better now that she was focused on something.
Lloyd's breathing hitched, and Julianne tensed, looking at him askance. But he didn't move, the monitor didn't change, and he didn't look like he'd even moved. She breathed out slowly.
She felt the fear like a lead-white in her belly, reminding her of the inevitability of mortality and her impotency when faced with it. Swallowing hard, she resolved to focus on her work, not on Lloyd. She could do this. She just…she just had to pretend he wasn't there.
…
…
Shea rapping on the window caused Erica to jump. She frowned at him, until he held up two paper cups of coffee, and then she couldn't help smiling. Opening the SUV's door, she climbed down and took one of the cups. One sip told her he'd gotten it exactly the way she liked it.
"I'm good, right?" he said, smirking slightly. "That's how you like it?"
"Don't get smug," she warned, cupping her hands around the hot drink for warmth. "I could do—"
The explosion was loud, almost as loud as last night, shoving them backwards and turning the ground into jelly. In an eyeblink, a quarter of the school building simply collapsed in on itself, bricks and mortar puffing up into the sky, blocking out the sun. Erica fell back against the SUV, gasping for air, every muscle shaking as if to mimic the earth below her. Twice! Two explosions in less than twenty four hours! What the hell!
Charlie was running with the rest of the cops to help, while Ray gamely hobbled along behind, but everyone not wearing a turn-out coat was quickly rebuffed by the firefighters. A man in a white helmet started bellowing orders out of a bullhorn, trying to be heard over the hoses as the fire-trucks came to life.
Flames appeared in the rubble, and began to grow, seemingly ignoring the water now pouring down on top of them.
Charlie turned and looked at Shea and Erica, and then said something to Ray before jogging back to join them.
"You guys okay?" he asked, a little breathless.
"I don't like this case, Charlie," Shea said, his voice tight. Erica hadn't noticed before, but Shea's eyes had gone glassy. "Bombs, fires, kidnappings, Lloyd shot….this is so not what we signed up for."
Charlie grimaced, but nodded. "I know."
"What happened?" Erica asked. "I thought the bomb wasn't supposed to go off until—"
"Something must have happened while they were trying to disarm it."
Erica's eyes widened. "This happened because they were disarming…?"
Charlie gave a nod. "The men inside are probably dead."
Shea turned away, keeping his face from the others. Erica just looked from Charlie, to Ray, to the other cops standing around. There was one woman in a suit who looked to be going nuts, trying to get past the fireman to the building, shouting and reaching, yelling something about getting to her men….
Erica closed her eyes and lowered her head.
"This is not happening again," Charlie said, his tone dark. "You hear me? No one else is getting hurt—not us, not them, no-one else. This stops here."
Erica didn't look up, or even open her eyes. She just nodded.
"What now?" Shea asked.
"I'm going to see if we can't get some space from the locals here to work in. We're not going back to Brooklyn—we're staying up here until we figure this out. Get all the papers, laptops, everything. Shea, call Julianne. I want Lloyd on the phone as soon as he's awake."
Erica's eyes popped open, and she stared wide-eyed at Charlie. "As soon as he's awake?" she repeated. "But—"
Charlie snarled. "He screwed up, not having this place on his list. I want to know why."
"Hey," Shea said, "'it's not Lloyd's—"
"I'm not arguing about this!" Charlie snapped. "Call her and tell her."
"No!" Shea said.
Erica swallowed, not sure what was happening. She reached for her phone. "I'll do it," she said quietly.
"No!" Shea snarled, tugging her arm. "Not if he's going to yell at him!"
She frowned. "But he'll want to help, Shea. You know he—"
She trailed off when she realized he was no longer listening. Shea had backed up to the door, his head down, his hands in fists by his side.
"Shea—" she tried, but he just shook his head and stepped closer to Charlie, his hands still fisted.
"Take it back. Take back what you said about Lloyd."
Charlie frowned slightly.
"Take it back!" Shea snapped. "This wasn't his fault! Take it back!"
Charlie's face reddened slightly. Then, like a cut marionette, he just slumped against the SUV, his head down.
"Charlie?" Erica asked.
"Damn it," Charlie muttered, though not to Erica, not to anyone. "This is messed up."
Shea frowned, relaxing his stance slightly. Erica bit her lip.
"Charlie?" she tried again when Charlie didn't look up.
He sighed, and looked directly at Shea. "You're right. Of course, you're right. It's not Lloyd's fault. I'm just…I'm angry. More people are dead because we can't figure out this guy, and…and kids could've….I just…." He glanced at Shea. "I didn't mean it the way it came out."
Shea's expression softened and his hands loosened. With a nod, he stepped back and looked away.
Erica blew the air out of her cheeks, but didn't put her phone away. "Shall I still call Julianne?" she asked.
"Yeah," Charlie said, not taking his eyes of Shea. "But only if he's well enough, and if he wants to help."
Shea's lips flashed a tiny smile. Charlie looked back at the school.
The flames were already being contained, but black smoke was billowing out of the fire, blackening the clear blue sky.
"Way I see it," Charlie said then, his voice low, "if this bomb was set to go off at about 9:00 am tomorrow morning, then that probably means we have less than twenty four hours to find any other bombs he might've planted, along with his ex-wife and kid." He looked at them both. "You two up for this?"
"Do we have a choice?" Shea asked.
Charlie smiled thinly, and looked to Erica. She just shrugged.
Was she up for something like this? No. But she would be damned if she was going to let another bomb go off that could hurt a kid.
TBC…
