What Might Have Been: Daniels Brother #4 (Daniels Brothers) (32 page)

“Good. Call the police. I’m right here with you, okay, Abby?”

Her hand shook as she punched in the three numbers. She knew she needed to stay calm. Freaking out wasn’t going to help Trent.

Chapter 25

Billy had one hand wrapped around Trinity’s forearm, his fingers digging into her flesh, and his other held a gun that he kept pointing at Trent, Joss, and Kevin. For the last ten minutes, Trent had been trying to think of a way to defuse the situation. Billy had caught him off guard. Trent had been on the phone with a client demanding to know why it was taking so long to get the special brick pavers they’d ordered, otherwise he would have taken action as soon as the man walked through the door.

As it was, they were now trapped in the storage room with stacks of boxes and only one way out—a door that was being blocked by Billy. No one was going to come looking for them anytime soon. Best case scenario, they had another hour at least before anyone began to wonder where any of them were.

Trent knew he was going to have to make his move soon. He’d been trying to talk Billy down, but then Kevin had panicked and tried to make a run for it. His actions had sent Billy into a fury. He was waving his gun around, his finger on the trigger.

Trinity was barely holding it together. She was scared. Trent only hoped she didn’t do something stupid. This wasn’t her fault. No, they had Detective Travers to thank for this.

The detective had taken Trent’s information and stopped to have a chat with Billy about the break-in. Whether the detective got any useful information from Billy or not, Trent didn’t know. Billy had called Trinity and convinced her to meet him for lunch. Almost three hours later, they both showed up at the office—Trinity with a black eye, busted lip, and her clothes ripped to the point that Trent wondered if Billy had sexually assaulted her as well.

Trent took a small step forward and to the side, away from Kevin and Joss, trying to redirect Billy’s attention. He looked about a second away from shooting Kevin and that was the last thing they needed.

It worked. Billy swung his arm around until Trent was looking down the barrel of Billy’s gun, only about four feet separating them.

Trent held up his hands in surrender. “You don’t want to shoot any of us.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Seems like a pretty good option to me.” Billy’s eyes were wild. The hope of talking him down seemed to be dwindling away.

Billy flexed his fingers on the gun. He released Trinity’s arm long enough to wrap his arm around her neck. Her mouth opened and she gasped, struggling to get air into her lungs as he compressed her airway. Something had to give soon.

Trent could feel his gun pressing against his back. He’d considered reaching for it a dozen times but the timing hadn’t been right. He was a decent shot, but he wasn’t a sharpshooter. It was too risky to try and shoot Billy while he had Trinity. And that wasn’t even taking into consideration Billy’s itchy trigger finger. One wrong move from any of them and he had little doubt Billy would shoot.

“Just let Trinity and the others go and we can talk. I’m sure we can figure this out,” Trent said. He was trying to remember all the stuff Paul had told him over the years. His brother had been involved in a few hostage negotiations, but Trent’s adrenaline was getting the best of him, making it difficult to remember Paul’s advice.

Billy shifted the gun again, pointing it at Trinity’s head. This wasn’t going the way Trent wanted it to.

“Not much to figure out. You’ve been screwing my girlfriend. I took what was due me and now you sic the cops on me.”

Trent knew there was no use trying to convince Billy that he and Trinity hadn’t ever slept together. And Trent doubted saying he had a girlfriend of his own would do any good either. The man was clearly unhinged.

Trinity’s face was red and her lips were beginning to turn purple. If Trent couldn’t get Billy to loosen his hold soon, she was going to pass out.

Trent ran through his options. None of them were all that great.

Kevin moved again, drawing Billy’s attention. At the same time, Trent saw Trinity’s eyes roll into the back of her head. Trent knew this was it. He was going to have to act and it would have to be fast. He only hoped he was fast enough.

Out of the corner of his eye, Trent saw Joss reach behind him for what looked to be some sort of old accounting equipment. He wasn’t sure what the man was planning on doing, but it didn’t matter. If Billy felt threatened, he was going to start shooting. 

Trent knew he couldn’t wait any longer. He couldn’t think about the fact that in mere seconds he might be shooting—killing—another human being. There were three other people in this room besides himself and he cared about them. They all needed to survive this.

His moment came sooner than he’d anticipated. Trinity slumped in Billy’s arms as the lack of oxygen caught up to her. The dead weight caused Billy to lose his balance and he lowered his gun to compensate.

Trent didn’t hesitate. He couldn’t. It was his one chance and he had to take it.

Reaching behind his back, he pulled his gun out of his waistband and brought it to eye level. He took aim and fired.

***

Abby nearly lost her lunch when she heard the gunshots.

Paul and the 911 operator heard them, too.

“Stay where you are,” they said in unison. It was as if they both knew that her first instinct would be to go check to see if anyone had been hurt—if Trent had been hurt.

“A patrol car is thirty seconds out,” the dispatcher said.

“Paul?”

The dispatcher knew that she had a friend on a cell phone. “I’m here, Abby. Just take some deep breaths. The police will be there any second. It’s going to be fine.”

“But what if it isn’t?”

“It will be. You’ll see.” He said it with such confidence. She wondered if he truly believed that or if he was only trying to be brave so she wouldn’t go into hysterics. 

Abby heard the front door creak open. “Someone’s at the door.”

“There are officers on scene. Just stay where you are. They need to secure the scene.”

She heard more footsteps in the main room, and then there was shouting. “Drop your weapon!”

“I have to go out there. I have to make sure—”

“No,” Paul and the dispatcher said in unison again. It was like she was getting admonished in stereo.

“Stay where you are,” the dispatcher added. “When the officers ask, respond to them and do what they tell you.”

“She’s right,” Paul said in her other ear.

She didn’t want to stay put, but she trusted Paul. If he thought she should stay where she was for now, then she would.

Abby had no idea how much time passed. It felt like hours, but in reality it was probably only a few minutes. More people could be heard entering. More people were talking, shouting.

A flash of white appeared in the doorway. “Anyone in here?”

“Yes.” Abby’s throat constricted so much it was difficult to get that one word to come out.

“The officer is there with you?” The dispatcher’s voice jarred Abby out of her fog.

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’m going to hang up now.”

“Okay.” Abby let the phone drop from her fingers, not bothering to put it back its cradle as she crawled out from behind Trent’s desk.

The officer walked toward her, weapon lowered but still at the ready. “Are you the one that called 911?”

Abby nodded.

The officer motioned for Abby to come toward her. “Let’s get you out of here.”

“What about—”

The radio on the officer’s shoulder crackled to life. “The scene is secured. We have one down and another needing medical attention.”

“Trent.” His name came out as a plea of desperation. She needed to see him.

The officer grabbed hold of her arm as she started to rush out into the main room. “Ma’am, you can’t go in there.”

Tears stung her eyes. “I have to know if Trent’s okay. I have to . . .”

The woman didn’t waver. “We need to get you outside. Then we can get things sorted.”

It wasn’t what Abby wanted, but she nodded.

The officer gave Abby’s arm a small squeeze before letting her go. “Stay behind me.”

All Abby could see as they made their way through the main room were police officers, at least ten of them. Most of them were focused on the back room where she knew Trent had been. Was he hurt? Had whoever it was shot him?

She was guided to a waiting ambulance. “They’re going to check you out and make sure you don’t have any injuries.”

Again she nodded to the officer. Abby felt as if she was in a haze.

A man about her age hopped off the back of the ambulance and smiled at her. She smiled back out of habit as she hugged her arms around her waist.

It was then she heard muffled shouting. She glanced down and realized she still had Trent’s cell phone clutched in her hand. “I’m here. I’m here. Sorry.”

“What happened?” he asked.

“I don’t know. They won’t tell me anything.” The paramedic held a bright light up and shone it in her eyes. “They wouldn’t let me go . . .”

When Paul spoke again, reason had returned. “It’s a crime scene, Abby. They have to be careful that evidence isn’t contaminated.”

The female officer who had escorted her out reappeared and placed a gentle hand on Abby’s forearm. “You were asking about the owner, Trent Daniels, right?”

“Yes.” Abby held her breath, trying to prepare herself for the worst.

“He’s all right. They’ll be bringing him out in a minute to get checked.”

Abby took her first real breath in what felt like hours. “He’s okay,” she translated back to Paul.

“Good. Now take a deep breath and let the paramedic examine you. They’re going to want to take everyone’s statement, so you’ll have to go down to the police station.”

“Thank you. For staying on the phone with me.” Abby had no idea what she would have done if Paul hadn’t been there to coach her through everything.

“Anytime.”

Abby shoved the phone in her pocket and tried to answer the paramedic’s questions as best she could. He gave her a bottle of water and a blanket, saying he was concerned she would go into shock, and left her to sit on the back of the ambulance. They brought Joss out of the building looking shaken, but he didn’t look hurt. The same paramedic that looked her over began assessing Joss.

An officer hovered nearby as she sipped on her water. Abby didn’t know if that was because they feared there really might be something wrong with her or because they didn’t want her leaving the scene. Maybe it was a little of both.

She got her first glimpse of Trent several minutes later. He was ushered out of the building and taken to another ambulance at the opposite end of the parking lot. An officer was with him and he appeared to be unharmed.

As a paramedic checked him over, a man in a suit strolled up to talk to him. It took her a moment to realize that the man must be a detective.

Time seemed to stand still as she observed their conversation. She was too far away to hear what they were saying, but she honestly didn’t care about that. Abby concentrated on the way Trent moved his hands and how he held himself.

Abby was so focused on watching Trent that she didn’t notice when another man approached her. She jumped and spilled some of her water when he said hello.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“My name is Officer Manns. I’ll be escorting you to the station so the detective can take your statement.”

Paul had mentioned that. She stood and followed the man to his cruiser. He opened the door for her and she slid inside. Even though she knew she wasn’t under arrest, it still felt as if she must have done something wrong to be sitting in the back of a police cruiser.

Trent turned to look at her as she drove away. She couldn’t read the expression on his face. It was somewhere between relief and regret.

When she arrived at the police station, she was taken to a nice-sized room with a table and several chairs. There were two bottles of water on the table and some small bags of snacks.

She took a seat and less than a minute later a tall man with sandy blond hair walked in. He pulled out the chair across from her and took a seat. “Hello. Miss . . .”

“Hoffman. Abigail Hoffman.”

He smiled and wrote her name down. “I’m Detective Kent. I need to ask you a few questions about what happened today. You were the one to call 911?”

“Yes.” Abby took a deep breath and launched into the explanation of how she’d come to Trent’s office to surprise him only to realize her boyfriend was being held hostage.

He asked her a few more questions to clarify the order in which things had happened, thanked her for her cooperation, and then handed her a business card. “If you think of anything else, don’t hesitate to call me.”

She took the card and shoved it into her bra. There wasn’t anywhere else to put it since she’d discarded her jacket somewhere in Trent’s office when she’d been waiting for the cops to arrive.

When she had finished giving her statement, Detective Kent walked her to the front of the station. She turned the corner and saw Mike and Marilyn Daniels waiting.

“Abby!” Marilyn rushed over to her and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. “Are you okay?”

Mike came up beside his wife and stood with a concerned look on his face as Marilyn doted on Abby.

“I’m fine. But I don’t know where Trent is. The last time I saw him, he was talking to a detective.”

“He’s giving his statement,” Mike said. “Paul said it’s standard procedure.”

Marilyn guided Abby to a row of chairs along the wall and sat down. Mike lowered himself into the seat next to his wife.

“How are you so calm?” Abby asked them.

Marilyn grinned. “I raised four boys. I’ve learned not to stress about things I can’t change. Besides, Paul says this is normal. I trust his judgment.”

Abby didn’t like waiting, but she didn’t see that she had much choice.

An hour passed and they were still waiting. Abby’s leg was bouncing up and down and she didn’t care. What was taking so long? At least two dozen police officers had passed by them with barely more than a glance. Marilyn had done her best to ease Abby’s tension. She’d even called Paul again and had him tell Abby personally that this was all routine. It didn’t help. Not in the slightest.