Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
Sandra was thinking about how she was going to break it to Ryan that the press conference would be taking place outside with only one news station.
She feared suggesting it in a way that made him lose trust in her.
It was challenging enough to build it when so many people had let him down.
But she couldn’t push this conversation off forever.
After all, Edward needed urgent medical attention.
“I’m going to call Ryan.” She put her headset on and waited for Donny, Monica, and Gibson to get on theirs.
The line rang twice before Ryan answered. “Is the press here?”
“They will be.” A lie she could live with.
“Good.”
The brief response and quiet background were unsettling. “How is everyone doing in there?”
“Fine.”
Another one-word reply. Tingles fired down her spine. “Including Edward and the boy?”
Ryan sniffed. “Yes.”
“Ryan, could I talk to them?”
“Why? You don’t believe me?”
“It’s not that. It’s my boss. He’s breathing down my neck out here. Please, at least, let me talk to Edward.”
Silence stretched across the line for several seconds, then, “Okay… Say hi to the FBI agent, Edward.”
“Get us… the… fuck out of…” His voice drifted off.
“Edward, this is Special Agent Vos. You’re not sounding so good.”
“I’ve been shot.” Edward panted over the line. “What’s, ah, taking so long? Get in here and—”
“That’s enough!” Ryan said loudly, reclaiming the phone. “You heard him. He’s fine.”
He sounded far from fine, but she was smart enough not to argue with a delusional person.
The best approach was to feed into their fantasies, join them and help them see they weren’t alone.
“That’s great. The way I see it you haven’t done anything you can’t still walk away from. Why not just do that? Surrender?”
Ryan laughed. “No one’s going to let me walk away. The way I see it is I have nothing to lose.” His voice thickened with tension, and there was a yell in the background that sounded like it came from Ashley Hanson.
“Tell me what’s going on, Ryan. Let me help you.” There were times like now she wished she had eyes inside, but that was a familiar feeling. Most negotiations took place without the hostage taker or hostages being on video.
“All I need from you is the press. Tell them to hurry. I’m getting impatient.”
“Everyone is hurrying, Ryan. We hear you. How are the kids, Ryan? Sophie and Brayden?” she pressed again.
Having a man shoot his father in front of him and the active threat of further violence couldn’t be helping Brayden’s asthma.
She was also stalling, trying to decide how to put things about the press conference.
“They’re fine. The boy is breathing fine again.”
Sandra noticed that Donny shifted next to her and tried to tune him out. “But he wasn’t?”
“He had an asthma attack, but he got his puffer. I told you he’s fine.”
“So you got his puffer for him, Ryan?”
“I let his mom get it.”
“Oh, that was nice of you, Ryan.”
“Yeah, and everything and everyone is good. So keep the guys with the guns away, and don’t call me back until the press gets here.” With that, he hung up.
Sandra let out a deep breath. She hadn’t even discussed the limited press conference or moving it outside.
“Not good?” Neal asked, as he hadn’t been roped into this call.
“Nope.”
If Neal was going to ask for more, it was left unsaid. His phone rang, and he answered.
Sandra continued the conversation with Donny, Monica, and Gibson.
“At least Ryan let the boy get his inhaler. That’s something.
It’s certainly telling of his character.
” She clung to the positive takeaway. He’d also let Edward receive help from Abram Duke before his release.
The man they were dealing with wasn’t wired for violence; he’d just been pushed past his breaking point.
Something she’d thought before but didn’t find completely reassuring.
“So he’s not a complete monster, but still…” Donny bugged his eyes and pressed his lips.
Sandra didn’t need him to finish his sentence. Ryan was still refusing to release Edward Hanson for medical care, putting his life at risk.
“Can you say that again?” Neal’s voice rose several notches as he spoke into his phone. “Let me put you on speaker because no one here is going to believe me.” He pulled his phone back, hit a button, and said to the team, “It’s Detective Birch.”
“Hey, so as I was just telling Lieutenant Coleman…” Eric filled them in on his conversation with Peter Carmichael.
“Holy hell? Are you being serious right now? If he strayed, he had to pay her one hundred and fifty—” Gibson snapped his mouth shut, but his widened eyes emphasized his shock.
Sandra was more interested in identifying Timothy’s right-hand man. “Mr. Carmichael used those words, attached at the hip, when referring to his security guard?”
“His words verbatim.”
Sandra met Donny’s eyes.
“Thanks, Eric. I appreciate you stepping away from the accident investigation to speak with Carmichael,” Neal told him.
“Not a problem.”
Neal ended the call and lowered his phone. “Timothy had a lot of motivation to hide his indiscretions.”
“And bury anyone who could expose them,” Monica put in.
He’s not the only one… “Edward Hanson also has sound reason to claim ignorance. Timothy’s estate would still be in the legal system. The survival clause would affect the dispersion of Timothy’s will.”
“We’re assuming he knew about the prenup and his father’s affairs,” Donny put in.
Sandra was thinking with that much money on the line, Timothy would have made a point of telling his son about the prenup.
“I just can’t believe the prenup survives death.” Monica blew out a breath. “All of you heard that too? Just crazy.”
“Still, what’s that amount of money to these people?” Gibson gestured toward the house. “They’re billionaires.”
“No one likes to be parted from their money. Least of all rich people,” Neal said.
Sandra wasn’t interested in going down this avenue any further.
There was always a divide among people who had money and those who didn’t.
Neither side could have any comprehension about life at the other end of the spectrum unless a person had lived both.
Sandra had. Her beginnings were humble. Her father was a police officer, and her mother was a stay-at-home mom.
They had a nice house in a nice neighborhood, basic and nothing fancy.
When she and her twin brother, Sam, were adopted by the Davenports, the affluent lifestyle they were exposed to was foreign.
Being a fish out of water didn’t begin to describe the initial feeling.
But her thoughts returned to the present.
Specifically, identifying Timothy’s right-hand man.
“Gibson, do you think you could call your contact in HR at Hanson Property and ask who Timothy Hanson’s main security guy was?
I’m thinking if this man was as attached to Timothy’s hip as Carmichael said then he might do anything for his employer. ”
“Even murder,” Donny put in, and Sandra nodded.
“I can check on that,” Gibson told her.
“It doesn’t sound like Timothy had any friends or close associates otherwise, so tracking down that guy might be the key.” Neal’s phone rang again, and he answered on speaker. “Officer Moore, you’ve got the team.”
“I spoke with Sabrina Brown, and it doesn’t sound good. She didn’t say much, but I sense she’s terrified about speaking out and what the repercussions might be.”
“Such as?” Sandra asked, longing for specifics over assumptions.
“She mentioned getting fired, but I sensed there was more. On another note, she didn’t confirm or deny an NDA.”
“It’s too bad that you couldn’t get her to say more,” Neal told her.
“I did my best, Lieutenant.”
“Are you still at Hanson Property Development?”
“I am.”
“Okay, just hang around for a few minutes. I might have you talk with someone else while you’re there.”
“You got it.” Moore ended the call.
The door to the vehicle opened, and Kreiger came in. “All right, the officers are on standby and ready once you are. We’ve got the camera and all the props.”
Sandra didn’t look forward to telling him she hadn’t yet confirmed the revised arrangement with Ryan.