Altercation (19 page)

W
e fo
und it.”

The four teenagers sat on the steps of a local bookstore. Neal was on the phone with Detective Hamilton. Megan appreciated the scarves and gloves Seth had bought them, but the cold wind still sliced through her jacket. A light snow fell, not enough to stick but enough to leave everything damp. She shivered and rubbed her hands together.

“We’re on . . .” Neal leaned forward and squinted at a street sign. “Winton Road. Uh-huh. I see a cop car three stores down from us. No. Okay. Cokesbury Bookstore. We’ll be inside.” He snapped the phone shut and stood. “Come on.”

The door jangled as they entered the bookstore. Megan glanced around. It was a religious bookstore, with several books on faith and scriptural interpretations available. Neal picked one up and flipped it over.

“Was he mad?” Megan murmured, sliding up next to him. They were supposed to wait in the hotel lobby for Detective Hamilton, but when he got detained by a phone call, Neal convinced them to go ahead.

Neal shrugged, eyes on the back of the book. “No. Maybe a little annoyed.”

“Morning.” A portly man with an apron stepped out of a back room. “Need anything?”

Neal shook his head, his cheeks raw and pink with the cold. “No, just looking. Thanks.”

“Holler if I can help.” He disappeared again.

Seth stepped closer to Neal. “Well?”

“Hamilton’s on his way.”

Finding the abandoned warehouse hadn’t been hard. The gray building looked like it’d been through a bombing. Neal picked up another book, this one for Bible study groups.

“I’ve got some of those at home,” Megan said. “If you’re interested.”

A black sedan pulled to a stop in front of the bookstore.

“Hamilton.” Neal led the group outside.

“You shouldn’t have left like that.” Detective Hamilton glared at the four from the driver’s window. “I’ll take you into the warehouse. Megan.”

She stopped when he said her name.

“I’ve been on the phone with your father.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Oh?”

“He’s coming to get you.”

The world spun for a minute and the heat rushed up to her face. “Okay.” The word came out in a tiny squeak. How utterly humiliating. She couldn’t meet the eyes of any of the boys.

“But he’s not here yet.” Hamilton turned the car off, leaving it parked in front of the bookstore. He glanced up at the gray sky. “It’s going to rain. We should take cover. Shall we?” He looked across the street at the warehouse.

“Yes.” Neal started for the crosswalk.

“Hang on; let me chat with the patrol.” Hamilton jogged toward the police car.

Megan drew back. Her eyes flicked to Cindy’s green car next to Hamilton’s. “I’ll wait here.”

Seth turned to face her, giving a frown. “Seriously? After all the effort we’ve gone through, you don’t want to go into the warehouse?”

She shrugged, feeling deflated. “The girls aren’t there. It’s over for me.” Not waiting for a response, Megan opened the car door and sat in the back. She hadn’t really wanted to go into the creepy warehouse, anyway.

She’d only been sitting about a minute when the door opposite her opened.

“Here.” Seth tossed the car keys at her. “In case you get cold.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“Do you want me to stay with you?”

She shook her head, forcing a smile. “No. I’ll be fine. Thanks, though.”

He stepped away, shutting the door. She sighed. She must look like an idiot to him. Like some child whose daddy had to come rescue her. Oh, well. Soon she would be home in Montana. Probably quarantined to her room, never to hear about this case again. She knew her dad would never let her see Seth again.

The snow turned into rain, a slow, dreary drizzle. Megan watched her breath fog up the window. Leaning over the armrest, she put the key in the ignition. She cranked the dial to get some heat.

Static crackled below her elbow, and she swiveled around. Ah. The police scanner. Falling back into her seat, she adjusted the channel on the scanner. She had to consult the notepad where Ricky had written down the ten codes a few times, but she got the gist of the conversations without them. Big car wreck on Scott Street. Fire truck en route.

She turned to the next channel.

“Need a patrol sent to thirty-one forty-five Donwiddle Drive in Loveland. Ten-eight.”

Ten-eight, ten-eight . . . Megan’s eyes traced down the paper until she found the proper code. Burglary in progress.

“Dispatch, this is unit twenty-two. We’re in the area. Victims called nine-one-one? Do we need medical assistance?”

“Negative, twenty-two. Suspect is unarmed, teenage girl. Appears to be homeless. Might be our prowler. Victims holding her in custody, awaiting patrol.”

Megan paused, trying to remember any previous transmissions about a prowler. They’d heard about the bank robbery, the warehouse, the burglary . . .

Which had actually been the
second
burglary that week, and it was also in Loveland.

Megan felt an energetic urgency flood her veins. She opened the glove compartment and began searching for a road atlas. She found one. Loveland was a suburb of Cincinnati, and it was not even three miles from the McDonald’s.

Megan bolted upright and threw open the car door. She ran across the street and slipped on the wet pavement. She caught herself, wincing as several shards of broken glass bore their way into her palm.

Which way had they gone in? The door was barred with a chain. She pulled on it and the chain fell off. The smell of feces, urine, and stale air reached her nostrils before the door finished shutting behind her. It closed with a bang, leaving her in the dark. “Hello? Seth? Detective?”

The empty warehouse stretched out before her. Her eyes adjusted, revealing the debris-littered floor. Patches of light drifted in through open doorways.

A tall shadow stepped out of a room, flashlight in hand. “Megan?”

“Seth!” she said. Neal and Ricky joined him. “I heard Sara on the police scanner!”

“What?” Neal stepped forward.

Megan stopped, suddenly questioning her spontaneous conjectures. “Well, I think it was Sara.”

Detective Hamilton stepped into the hall. “Explain what you heard. She was talking on the scanner?”

“No.” Megan shook her head. “It might not have been her. But I think it was.”

“Megan.” Neal cut her off. “Just tell us what you heard.”

“There was a burglary. The burglar was an unarmed teenage girl. I think it was Sara.”

“Why would you think it was Sara?” Detective Hamilton asked.

Megan blushed, totally second-guessing herself now. “Could be any girl. Maybe it wasn’t Sara.” Could she feel any more like an idiot?

Neal looked at Hamilton. “We can go check it out, right?”

“Of course.” Hamilton led the way toward the doors. “If it is Sara, the police will bring her in right away.”

“We don’t trust the police much,” Ricky said. “Personality conflicts.”

Hamilton laughed. “I know, Ricky.”

Megan gave Neal the address and he programmed it into his phone while Hamilton pulled out of the bookstore parking space.

“That’s across town,” Hamilton said. “It’ll take us at least twenty minutes to get there.” He pulled out his cell phone.

“I should’ve brought the scanner,” Megan murmured.

“Want to go back for it?” Seth asked.

“I don’t want to waste any time.” Megan watched the city go by as Hamilton drove toward the address. She looked at Ricky, sitting behind Neal’s seat. Something glowed in his hand and then went out. He spun his palm against it and it glowed again. “What’s that, Ricky?”

His head jerked up. “Huh? Nothing.”

“What?” Seth grabbed Ricky’s wrist. Ricky put up a half-hearted fight and released his contraband. “A lighter.” Seth handed it to Megan.

She flipped over the neon-pink lighter, the fluid inside almost up to the top. “Find it in the warehouse?”

“Yeah.” Ricky put a bored expression on his face and held his hand out. “Can I have it back now?”

Seth scowled at him. “What are you, a pyromaniac?”

“No.” Ricky snatched the lighter from Megan. “I just like fire.”

Hamilton began talking into his phone. Megan strained, trying to pay attention to his muted conversation.

“. . . girl breaking and entering? What’s the name of the captain onsite? Sure.” He paused.

Neal spotted the lighter and rolled his eyes. “How do you find these things?”

“They find me.” Ricky glared at his brother. “Leave me alone.”

“Of course. Thank you.” Hamilton snapped his phone shut. “Neal, open the dash. Blue light. Give it to me.”

Neal handed the detective a small roundish blue light.

Dropping open the window, Hamilton stuck the light on top of the car and clicked it on.

Traffic slowly began to part for them, and Hamilton hit the gas.

“How does that stay up there?” Ricky opened the window and half climbed out of the car.

“Get your head in the car, Ricky!” Hamilton shouted. “It’s magnetic. The car has a magnetic mount.”

“What’s going on?” Neal sat on the edge of his seat, lips drawn tight.

The tires squealed as Hamilton pulled a tight right turn. Megan gripped her seatbelt.

“There’s been an incident,” Hamilton said. “The burglar pulled a knife on the family. It’s become a hostage situation. The burglar is considered dangerous.”

“She’s holding them hostage?” Megan gasped. It couldn’t be Sara, then.

“Apparently.” Hamilton glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Everything was fine until the police showed up. Then she went nuts. The man of the house tried to approach her and she cut him.”

Megan put a hand to her mouth.

“But the police have her in visual sight. From their description,” he paused. “It might be Sara.”

“They won’t shoot her, will they?” Ricky gripped the lighter with white knuckles.

Hamilton didn’t answer.

It was easy to find the house. An ambulance joined the police cars in the street just as Hamilton pulled up.

Neal was out of the car before it came to a stop.

“Neal!” Hamilton shouted, but the boy didn’t pay any heed.

Megan pushed her door open and ran out too.

“Stop!” an officer yelled at them, but Neal didn’t, so Megan didn’t either.

The garage was open. That must’ve been how Sara got in. If it was Sara. Neal ran up the steps and shoved the door to the house open. Megan clattered after him, Ricky and Seth on her heels.

“Don’t come in here!” A high-pitched, hysterical girl’s voice echoed down the hallway.

Megan halted, chills running up and down her spine. Neal and Ricky pushed past her. The two of them rushed into the living room. Curiosity got the best of her, and Megan inched to the edge of the hall, peering into the kitchen and dining room.

It was Sara. She crouched on the floor, a sliding glass door behind her. She held a sharp chopping knife above her head, brandishing it at the family around her. The man had a rag to his forearm, soaking up blood from a cut. The woman held two little boys against her. Megan couldn’t imagine they were really afraid of Sara. There had to be other knives. The husband could easily force that one away from her.

“Don’t come near me!” Sara shrieked. Her pupils were dilated, the black taking up almost all of the hazel color. “I’m not going with the police!”

Megan put her hands to her face, tears overflowing. Sara had lost it. Seth touched her shoulder.

The woman pushed the boys behind her and inched her way to the front door. Sara hissed and spun her direction. “D
ON’T OPEN THAT DOOR
!”

The man grabbed Neal before he went to Sara. “Don’t touch her. She’s crazy.”

“She’s my sister,” Neal said, pushing his hands away. “She won’t hurt me.”

“She won’t know you. She went crazy when the police arrived. I’m trying to keep her from hurting herself.”

Neal hesitated. “Ricky. I need your help.”

Sara watched the two of them approach, her eyes wide. “What are you doing?” She pushed herself to her feet, hand trembling. She thrust the knife out in front of her. “No! I won’t let you take me!”

The woman unlocked the front door and shoved her children into the yard.

Sara’s eyes flashed to them. “D
ON’T LET THEM IN
!”

In her moment of distraction, Neal grabbed her wrist. She shrieked and flailed against him, alternating between driving the knife toward herself and thrusting it at Neal.

“Ricky!” Neal cried. “Hold her!”

Ricky came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, holding her still at the elbow joints. “Sara. It’s me. It’s Ricky.”

The man jumped into the frenzy, helping Ricky.

Neal applied pressure to her wrist until she dropped the knife. She cried, sobbed, pitched back and forth, but Neal and Ricky held her tight. The emaciated girl didn’t have the strength to fight back.

Neal saw Seth, hovering next to Megan. “We’ve got her. Get the police. We need help.”

Seth hurried out the front door.

Megan remained where she was. She wanted to go to Sara, to help her, but she felt frightened. How could this wild creature be Sara?

Sara’s sobs weakened into whimpers until she collapsed against Neal’s chest, body shaking.

The man helped Neal cradle her against his body. “She came in through the garage door. We found her raiding our fridge. We were trying to help her. My wife left the room to call the police. But as soon as they showed up—she just went nuts.”

The police came in and took over.

“Thank you,” Neal said to the man. “Thanks for trying to help.”

The man nodded and went outside to join his family. The paramedic helped bandage his arm. Others entered the house with a stretcher. Not a normal stretcher, but one with restraints.

“We’ve got her,” one said, gripping Sara in a practiced hold and heaving her onto the stretcher. “We’ll take her to the hospital.”

“We’re going with you.” Neal rubbed his ribs where Sara had kicked him.

Detective Hamilton stepped into the house behind the paramedics. “It’s fine. They’re kin.”

“All right.” The paramedics lifted the stretcher and carried Sara out. Unable to move, only her strangled moans floated through the air. Neal and Ricky followed.