Crimes of Memory (A Detective Jackson Mystery) (32 page)

“Okay. Signal when I should stop each time.”

Sophie nodded, pressed record, and signaled Russell to begin.

“This is Russell Crowder, a member of Love the Earth. But I’m acting on my own here to shut down Rock Spring, a bottled water company. Here’s why. Bottled water has become the worst environmental hazard we have. Thirty-six billion plastic bottles end up in landfills every year.”

Sophie signaled for him to stop. The room was silent as she attached the video clip to a text and sent it to the TV station. It took almost ten seconds to clear her phone. She said a silent thank you that satellite reception was working here in the building. She pressed record and signaled Russell to start again.

“In addition, two million tons of plastic are used annually to make water bottles. That requires seven hundred and fourteen million gallons of oil. The amount of energy used in that production is incalculable. The fossil fuels burned transporting those bottles to consumers contributes significantly to global warming. And it’s all unnecessary. Tap water is cleaner, safer, and available almost everywhere. In fact, tap water is what’s in most of the bottled water sold.”

Sophie made him stop again. It was better to keep these clips manageable. The last thing she wanted was her phone to freeze up trying to send a huge file. While the message was going out, Russell’s phone rang.

She only heard his end of the conversation, but it was clear that someone in law enforcement was trying to talk him into letting hostages go, maybe even giving himself up. Russell referred to his therapist several times, and Sophie wondered if Russell was taking medication. More accurately, if he’d gone off his meds recently.

While he was talking, Russell took his eyes off her. She quickly pressed record and panned her phone over the hostages.
It would make a great clip, and KRSL would likely play it over and over. Fiona’s eyes widened and she gave a tiny shake of her head. Sophie brought the phone back to Russell just as he looked up at her again. She ended the video and sent it too.

Russell made another call to someone named Charlotte and left a message. When he’d hung up, Fiona said, “You should let Patrice and Sophie go. You don’t need four hostages. The police won’t work with you unless you send out a hostage.”

Russell cocked his head and stared at Fiona. “How do you know that? And why aren’t you asking for your own release?”

Sophie aimed her camera without lifting it and started recording again.

Fiona said, “Everyone knows you have to release a hostage to get something in return.”

“Don’t you want out of here?” Russell seemed skeptical of Fiona, and Sophie wondered if he realized Fiona was with the FBI.

“Of course I do,” Fiona said. “But I can tell that Patrice is more freaked out, and at least I know you a little.”

Russell nodded. “Okay, I’ll let Patrice go.” He motioned for her to get up.

CHAPTER 33

Charlotte Diebold brought her client slowly out of hypnosis. While the girl was in a meditative trance, Charlotte had spoken to her subconscious with simple, powerful self-esteem messages. The technique had proven effective with other young people, and Charlotte hoped it would help Emma feel good enough about herself to say no to sexual pressure. Emma was only sixteen and she’d already had a dozen sexual partners, but it was the shoplifting that had landed her in juvenile court.

“I want you to keep the diary this week, Emma. It’s important to process your thoughts and commit them to paper.”

“I don’t like writing.”

“Do it on your phone then. There are plenty of apps for taking notes. Think of it as texts to yourself.”

“I’ll try that. Is my time up?”

Charlotte smiled, even though it hurt her feelings for Emma to be so eager to leave. “Not quite, but you can go. I’ll see you next Friday.”

As soon as the girl was gone, Charlotte checked her cell phone. Russell Crowder had called and left a distressed message: “Ms. Diebold, I need you to call me. I’m in a situation here. Turn on the news and watch KRSL if you can.”

Oh dear.
What had the young man done now? The panic in Russell’s voice, combined with the reference to the news, made her pulse quicken. Charlotte turned to her monitor, clicked over to TV mode, and found the station. Trina Waterman had cut into their regular talk-show programming to give a breaking news update. Charlotte caught the last half of a sentence.

“… has four hostages in an office on Mill Street, owned by local business owner and state senator Ted Rockman. Crowder alleges that Rockman sexually assaulted him sometime in the past and has sent the station a video clip of the senator confessing to the assault. As you can see in the clip we’re about to show you, Rockman seems distressed and it’s likely he made the confession under duress. One of the hostages, a newspaper reporter, has been sending updates and tweeting news from inside the building. She claims Crowder has a bomb taped to his chest. We’ll cut now to footage from inside the hostage crisis.”

A bomb? Oh dear God.
Charlotte’s pulse pounded in her throat and little rockets of pain went off in her chest. She reached in her purse for her blood pressure medicine.

On a dark and shaky video clip, she watched Ted Rockman admit to sexually assaulting Russell Crowder during a camping trip seven years ago. His face was impassive and his voice deadpan. Not a hint of remorse. The station cut back to blonde pretty Trina Waterman.

“Our inside source tells us Russell Crowder also demanded that Ted Rockman burn down his bottled water plant. The eco-terrorist plans to keep the hostages until he’s seen proof that the factory foreman has met the demand. Eugene police and the FBI
are at the scene and are negotiating with Crowder. What we’ve learned so far about this disturbed young man is that he’s a member of Love the Earth, an environmental group that has been active locally.”

Charlotte muted the sound, unable to listen anymore. Russell had not seemed that disturbed. During the year she’d been treating him, he’d shown tendencies toward irrational thought and impulsive behavior, but she’d believed they had that under control with olanzapine.

Taking a long gulp of oxygen, Charlotte heaved herself from her chair. She had to go down there and talk to Russell face-to-face, to convince him to let the other hostages go. She didn’t care what happened to Ted Rockman, but she cared about Russell, and she had misjudged the depth of his pain and anger. She’d also had no idea that Russell’s interest in environmental issues would become so obsessive.

Charlotte hurried, but every heavy step was a laborious effort and her knees and ankles cried out with pain. Once she was inside her SUV, Charlotte called her young client, pulled out of the parking lot, and hoped she wasn’t too late.

CHAPTER 34

River tried to visualize the room where the hostages were held. Were they on the floor? Had Crowder bound them? What she really wanted to know was if Dallas had a gun or other weapon. If she did, Crowder may have taken it from her. Bomb trumped gun every time. River texted Sophie:
Is anyone tied or taped?

Waiting was excruciating. Snipers with high-powered rifles had taken spots in three surrounding buildings, including one on the roof of the business across the street. SWAT members with automatic weapons were also in place, tucked behind cars, shrubs, and fences, just waiting for the go command. But Crowder had a bomb, and neither she nor Sergeant Bruckner wanted to risk him setting it off. They had to convince Crowder to release the hostages and give himself up. River hoped his conversation with his therapist was productive. With Fouts, Quince, and Miller standing by, the small group took turns leaning against the patrol cars and pacing in a small circle, throwing out ideas.

River checked her tablet again to see if the TV station had any new clips from Sophie. She caught one of Russell making a statement about plastic water bottles and their effect on the environment. Good. Once the perp got his message out there, he’d feel better and maybe start to cooperate. Fouts and Miller stood shoulder to shoulder with her, watching the video.

“Crazy motherfucker,” Fouts mumbled.

River couldn’t disagree. She watched Crowder carefully, looking for signs of weakness. His message played in chunks that were spliced together. The station cut to the blonde newscaster again. “Our reporter inside also captured video of the hostages, who seem terrified but unharmed.” A short clip showed three hostages—two against a wall, and one leaning on a file cabinet. Rockman’s wrists were duct-taped, but only the silver-haired woman looked really scared.

“The young woman on the right is our undercover agent, Jamie Dallas,” River said, for the others. “Crowder knows her as Fiona. The older woman is probably Rockman’s assistant.”

“Is your agent armed?” Bruckner asked.

“I don’t know. If she’s not carrying a gun, I’m sure she has a knife or pepper spray.” River turned to face him. “Our perp has a bomb. It’s not really safe for your snipers to take a shot, let alone for Dallas to try and overpower him.”

“If they get a clear shot, I’ll give the order. We can’t just sit here waiting for Rockman to burn down his factory.” Bruckner tried to stare her down.

“The shot is too risky.”

“They won’t miss. One kill shot to his head and he’ll die instantly.”

“What if the bomb goes off when Crowder hits the ground? And it kills all the hostages? Or levels this city block?”

“Our bomb experts have looked at close-ups of the video footage,” Bruckner countered. “They say it’s made of three sticks of dynamite, which may not even destroy the building. If we can get the hostages away from him—”

River cut him off. “Give the negotiations a chance.”

They waited in silence for a few minutes, then Bruckner said, “We can get the utility company to cut off the power. If it gets cold in there, he’ll get uncomfortable.”

“Not yet,” River said. “I want the lights on.” She turned to Fouts. “Call the Rock Spring manager again. We need to find a compromise, a way to show that the plant is disabled without actually burning it down.”

They heard a door open, and they all spun toward the R&L building. The older woman burst out the door and ran toward them.

As River got an arm around her, the woman burst into tears. They waited while she got herself under control.

“What’s your name?” River spoke gently.

“Patrice
LaRue. I’m Ted Rockman’s administrative assistant.” She was still shaking, and Bruckner sent one of his men to the armored unit for a blanket.

“How many hostages?”

“Three left. My boss and the reporter who was interviewing him when Crowder came in, plus some woman named Fiona who pushed her way in through the interior door.”

“What interior door?”

“Mr. Rockman’s office connects to the center of the building, where there’s a kitchen and a bathroom. On the back side is his political headquarters.”

“Is anyone in the other half of the building?”

“I don’t think so.” Patrice glanced at the parking lot. “An intern works there part time, but I don’t see her car.”

River turned to Bruckner. “We need to get SWAT guys into the back office.”

“I’m already there.” He touched his radio and gave the command.

“Crowder locked the interior door,” Patrice said. “And there’s no visibility into the office from the hallway. But I left the front door unlocked. He told me to lock it after I went through, but I couldn’t make myself stop and do it.”

“Good to know. What else can you tell us? Does he have any other weapons?”

“He’s got a knife.” Patrice started to cry again. “He says he won’t let anyone else go until Mr. Rockman burns down his factory.”

River walked the woman to a patrol officer on the perimeter. “Get her into a car where it’s warm and give her a phone so she can call her family.”

Bruckner got a report on his radio, but River didn’t hear anything clearly, except the word
therapist
. That caught her attention.

“Charlotte Diebold is here on the perimeter and wants to speak with the perp,” Bruckner reported. “She says she’s his therapist and can talk him out of this.”