Page 83 of Hidden Hero

Jeremy’s fists clenched at his sides. The thought of Cora being in Grissley’s crosshairs made it nearly impossible to think straight. He forced himself to focus, knowing the only way to protect her was to keep his head clear.

The ER personnel wheeled Carl out of the morgue area, and Jeremy’s gaze swung back to the negotiator. “She’s in there,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I need to get her out.”

“We’re doing our best,” Emilio said firmly. He placed a finger to his lips, signaling for silence, then flipped the intercom on again.

Cora’s voice came through, clear but carefully measured. “Pastor Grissley, I can see you’re upset. Please tell me what’s happened, and we’ll try to work something out.”

“I just preach to do good,” Buford replied, his voice trembling with conviction. “I preach to help others. That’s what I counsel when I visit people in need.”

“Yes… I’m sure you do,” Cora placated.

“I was visiting one of my flock. Her grandson from Norfolk was there, and I saw him take some pills. I confronted him, but he told me she’d never miss them. He said he knew someone who would pay for them.”

“So you started to do the same?” Cora asked, her voice gentle.

“People don’t understand… I have to eat, too.”

“Y… yes. Of course you do,” she replied.

“There have been months when everything the church took in went right back in to pay for the church… mortgage, electricity, insurance… but hardly none was left over for me to even get paid.” He huffed and swiped at his brow. “I looked at what that kid was doing… thought that if he could do it, then maybe God was telling me I should do that, too.”

“That you should take the medication prescribed to others?”

“He was right… They don’t miss them, and they’re old… some of them near meeting the Lord anyway.”

Jeremy watched through the window as Buford seemed almost confused, as though he was talking about someone other than himself.

“The more I took, the more it seemed the right thing to do. For the first time in my life, I had some money.” He hefted his shoulders. “I’d go visitin’ and told them that if they gave some of their medicine for the poor, God would reward them. They gave willingly,” he said as his defense.

“Okay,” Cora said again. Her tone remained calm, but Jeremy, standing just feet away, could hear the faint uncertainty lacing her words. She was holding it together, but for how long?

Jeremy turned to Emilio and Pete, his jaw set. “Let me talk to him.”

Emilio immediately shook his head but glanced toward Colt for confirmation. Jeremy lowered his voice, his tone firm but controlled. “I know why he’s here. I’m not going to set him off, but I understand some of what’s been happening. Let me try.”

Colt’s sharp gaze held his for a moment, weighing the risk. Finally, with a slight dip of his chin, Colt gave his approval.

Emilio stepped aside but remained close enough to intervene if necessary.

Jeremy moved forward, his heart hammering in his chest. He pressed the button on the intercom. “Pastor Grissley, this is Detective Jeremy Pickett.”

Through the small window in the door, Jeremy caught a glimpse of Buford. The man stood rigid, his face glistening with sweat as he gripped the gun tightly. Jeremy held his breath, waiting to see how Buford would react.

Buford’s head snapped toward the intercom. “Did you talk to my wife? Are you the one who got her to speak against me?”

Jeremy winced, exchanging a glance with Pete. He took a slow, steady breath and let it out before speaking. “Your wife is just trying to help. When you talk to the elderly in your community, you remind them of people who can’t afford prescription medications. You talk about how those who have can give to those who are in need by making sacrifices. You’ve even suggested they turn over their medication to you or Jed Harborrow, promising that their sacrifice would serve a greater good.”

“I take care of my people,” Buford snapped. “I take care of my flock. But people are leaving the churches… attendance is way down. We can barely afford to keep the lights on at the church. I had to do something to keep the church going. We needed money.”

Jeremy forced himself to remain calm, even as his pulse thundered. The last thing he wanted was to have a civil conversation with the man responsible for so much harm. But knowing Cora’s life might depend on his composure, he took another deep, steadying breath.

“I know this is upsetting, Pastor Grissley,” Jeremy said evenly. “But you need to let us help you. You don’t want to hurt anyone else. I’m going to step back now so our negotiator can talk to you. He’ll set it up so you can get out of this situation safely—without anyone else getting hurt.”

With that, Jeremy stepped aside, letting Emilio take over. His body felt taut with restrained energy, every nerve screaming to act. But he stayed rooted in place, knowing one false move could endanger Cora.

Jeremy edged closer to the door as Emilio’s steady voice filled the intercom. He kept his eyes on Buford, who had begun pacing back and forth, the gun still clutched in his hand. Jeremy’s stomach churned. He couldn’t see Cora. Was she still calm? Still safe? He clenched his fists, forcing himself to focus.

Finally, Emilio’s calm persistence paid off. Buford agreed to release one of the hostages.

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