Page 71 of The Fragile Ones

“Different how?”

“Shorter hair, clean-shaven, sometimes with a beard.”

“Where does he work?”

“Don’t know. Don’t ask. He seems to have money.”

“You’ve known him all these years and you don’t know where he works?”

“He said he did some odd jobs, like me. And that’s all I know.” He suddenly turned again to the mirror window and said, “See, I did good.Reallygood.”

Katie turned to McGaven, making a gesture to go outside. They both stepped out the door, shutting it quietly. They could hear Mr. Rodriguez saying he could hear them talking to Whitney.

“He needs to be evaluated,” said Katie.

“I agree. They will probably put him on a seventy-two-hour watch.”

“Do you think it’s possible he’s faking it?” she asked.

“Can’t make that call, but anything’s possible with this case.”

Katie motioned to the correctional officer. “You can take him back.”

He nodded and went into the interrogation room.

Katie and McGaven retrieved their guns from the small vault and went out the back door, descending the metal stairs. They continued down the secured parking way, passing the prisoner transport van, and walked around the corner to get to the police vehicle compound.

“I want to have a look at his truck,” said Katie.

“I’m curious too.”

They made towards the compound but the crack of two gunshots stopped them dead in their tracks. Without hesitation, Katie and McGaven turned and sprinted back to the secured area with their guns drawn.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Saturday 1115 hours

Katie made it to the corner of the building first, with her gun directed out front. Back pressed against the wall, she peered around the corner seeing the scene from behind. At the back of the prisoner van, Rodriguez had the correctional officer held with a gun pressed against his head, and the officer driving the van was lying on the ground bleeding. No one saw her. She could only see their backs.

Katie pulled back and whispered to McGaven. “Rodriguez shot one of the correctional officers and has the other at gunpoint.”

Voices boomed, telling Rodriguez to put the gun down and that he was surrounded.

Looking again, she saw two detectives and a deputy coming down the stairs with their guns aimed at Rodriguez, yelling, “Drop your weapon now!”

“No!” yelled Rodriguez. “I’ll only talk to her—that woman detective. Get her! I’ll only talk to her!”

Katie froze. She was right in the middle of a meltdown and there was already one officer down. She made ready.

“No,” said McGaven. “It’s too dangerous. There will be twenty officers in another minute.”

“I’m not going to let another officer get hurt…or killed. We don’t know how seriously that officer is injured. He needs helpnow. I seem to be the only one that can disarm this.” She knew what she had to do.

Katie calmed her nerves as much as she could, then put her Glock in the waistband of the back of her pants and boldly walked around the corner. “Darren,” she said, using his first name to keep things personal.

Immediately he backed up, turning slightly to the left of where she approached with her hands in the air. “I’m unarmed.”

“Make them put their guns down,” he said.