Targeted. Becky Avella

      Rick’s spirits had lifted when he rounded the corner of the school building and saw the glow of artificial light coming from the fourth classroom down the wall. He had hoped he would simply have to knock on Stephanie’s classroom window and all of this would be behind them. But once he peeked into her classroom, he knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

      Even through the window’s dirty glass, Rick had recognized Stephanie immediately, but it was the man standing in the doorway behind her, fitting the exact description of Julian Hale, that had caused him to pop back and draw his weapon.

      “Freeze!” Rick shouted through the window. He doubted they could hear him clearly, if at all, but he hoped the raised gun made enough of a statement. The glass wouldn’t stop him if he had to shoot.

      Rick’s gaze locked on Hale, trying to anticipate his next move. What was Hale going to do? Run? Try to take out Stephanie? Hale was caught, and Rick expected to read surprise or even fear displayed in the other man’s body language. Instead, Hale appeared unfazed by the gun and strangely poised.

      Rick needed to get Stephanie out of here and deliver her safely to Terrell Watkins. When they had split up to look for her, Rick had promised Terrell that he would get to her before Hale did. Rick’s gut twisted. He had failed to keep that promise.

      Terrell and his wife, Val, viewed Stephanie O’Brien as a member of their family. The three of them had known one another for years, and Rick had run into Stephanie so often at their house, he had finally asked Terrell if she was living with them. To which Terrell had laughed and answered, “Practically.”

      But Terrell wasn’t laughing now. Back in the attic, Terrell’s broad shoulders had slumped and deep lines of worry had furrowed his forehead as he tried to reach Stephanie on her cell phone.

      “My calls are going straight to voice mail,” Terrell had said, skimming his tightly cropped black hair with his large hand. “That girl never keeps her cell phone charged, and Val hasn’t seen her at all today.”

      Rick had hated seeing Terrell so upset. The team counted on their sergeant’s lighthearted personality to ease the tense situations. His jokes had gotten Rick through a lot of heavy spots, but with the roles reversed, Rick hadn’t known what to say. Finding the photograph of one of your closest friends in the attic of a wanted killer wasn’t a light thing.

      And now here she was right in front of him. How was he going to get her away from Hale?

      Without lowering his gun, Rick reached up and grabbed his mic. “Code 3 assist. I’ve got a visual on the suspect.”

      * * *

      Stephanie wasn’t sure which of the two men to look to for answers. She turned back and forth between Rick at the window and Julian in the doorway until it dawned on her. Rick’s gun wasn’t aimed at her; his target was Julian, and Stephanie was in the way.

      She dropped to her stomach, scattering the papers she held in her arms, and scooted toward the window on her belly. Was that the right thing to do? She wished she could read Rick’s mind. Right or wrong, she had to put distance between her and the doorway where Julian still stood.

      “Stop moving, Stephanie,” Julian’s icy voice instructed her.

      She froze midcrawl. “Why are the police here, Julian? What have you done?”

      Although he spoke to her, his eyes stayed on the window and Rick’s gun. “I suspect the officer is here not only because of what I’ve already done, but because he knows what I’m planning to do next.”

      From her vantage point on the ground, Stephanie looked up and studied Julian’s face. A slow, small smile spread, then flickered out, leaving the flat, emotionless affect he always wore. She had noticed his oddities before—his formal speech, erect posture and unwavering calm. She had written them off as nothing more than a social awkwardness from a man who spent all of his time working with computers instead of people. Now she found the same mannerisms cold and calculating.

       What are you planning to do?

      Fear amplified the flow of blood behind her ears as it raced adrenaline through her body. Her heartbeat paralleled the ticking of the old clock in the front of the classroom. The minute hand kept bouncing into place, marking how long Stephanie lay on the ground waiting for something to happen.

      Julian didn’t say any more; his eyes remained locked on Rick. She waited for Rick’s gun to shatter the glass, but that didn’t happen, either. She remained motionless on her stomach, stuck in the middle of a standoff with no idea what she should do next.

      The distant sound of approaching sirens hit her ears. From the sound of it, a lot of law enforcement was about to descend on this place, yet Julian seemed unperturbed by it all. Maybe she could stall him until they arrived.

      “What are you planning to do, Julian?” she asked him.

      His soulless eyes turned her direction, making her shiver from the coldness she saw in them. “You will have to wait and see, Stephanie. I promise you will know soon enough.” Then he bolted from the doorway and disappeared down the dark hallway.

      Hammering hit the window above her. Stephanie peered through her lifted arm and watched the old window splinter from the force of Rick’s nightstick. Stephanie moved to stand up as Rick raked out the remaining glass, but she fell back down flat again when a large dog flew through the broken window. Stephanie screamed and covered her head.

      Rick climbed in the window. “The dog won’t hurt you,” he reassured her. “Axle, sitz!” he commanded, and the dog froze and sat at attention.

      “Did you see which way Hale ran?” Rick asked her.

      “I don’t know. Right, I think?”

      Rick spoke into his radio. “Suspect is running toward the front of the school. I won’t be able to intercept. Have incoming units set up a perimeter.”

      Rick squatted beside her. “Are you okay, Stephanie?”

      She wanted to yell, Scared to death, how do you think I’m feeling? But the concern in his eyes stopped her. “Fine,” she told him.

      Rick offered Stephanie a hand up, steadying her as she wobbled to her feet. She had been around Rick many times at Val and Terrell’s house, but she had never been this close to him. She blushed. The skip in her heartbeat could not be blamed on fear.

      “Hale may be hiding in the building. We need to get you to a safer location.” Rick let go of her arms and walked to the window. “Can you crawl out with me?”

      Stephanie followed him through the window and accepted his outstretched hand on the other side. He guided her to the ground, and the dog leaped through behind them.

      “Keep low and stay close behind me. We’re going to move along the building to minimize visibility. Understand?”

      “Visibility?” she asked him. “Does Julian have a gun?”

      Was Julian really that dangerous? She shuddered, thinking of all of the times she had been alone with him in her classroom. What was he capable of doing?

      “He’s more worried about avoiding capture than he is with hurting you now, but I don’t gamble. Stay low.”

      Rick’s long legs covered ground much faster than Stephanie’s shorter legs could manage. She jogged behind him trying to keep up. When they rounded the building, Rick called to her over his shoulder, “The cavalry has arrived.”

      Patrol car after patrol car surrounded them, filling the parking lot. The flashing lights and number of arriving vehicles mesmerized her. People in a variety of uniforms and suits piled out of their cars, sprinting in different directions.

      All of this for Julian? A typical criminal would not invite this intense of a response, would he? She spotted uniforms from Seattle Police Department and King County Sheriff’s Office and read “SWAT” on the back of several officers advancing