Page 80 of Letting Go
“The precious gift … as you said in the poems,” I say barely audible. I can’t believe what is unfolding before my very eyes. Faint black spots dance at the edge of my vision and the room has gone from swaying slightly to beginning to spin.
“I needed to communicate my … thoughts without admission. I still haven’t admitted anything, but I will confess to do whatever is necessary for my babies’ happiness. Guilty as charged!” She raises her other hand and laughs like this is no big deal.
“Does that include smashing taillights, slashing tires, and running someone over?” I can’t believe I’m asking but I must know the extent of her crazy.How is this the same woman that chaperoned our elementary school field trips? How is she the mother of one of the nicest guys I’ve ever known in my life?
“When I left my Garden Club meeting and saw you gallivanting like a drunk co-ed, I was so mad and honestly, disappointed. But thankfully, I was also prepared. My garden sheers are an overlooked multi-use tool, the handles are study enough to smash plastic, and it may surprise you how easily the sharp blades cut through rubber. There is a reason I only buy American made tools; it really does make a difference.”
“And Hunter?” I ask.
“Which hunter?” Her brow scrunches in confusion.
“Hunter Miller. The man you ran over with your car.”
“Oh, hush. I didn’t run anyone over. I maybe clipped him a bit, he should’ve been paying closer attention. But not to you!” Marcie Claire shakes her head as she stands and begins to pace back and forth. “No, no, he didn’t need to be giving you anymore attention.I had to nip that in the bud before he could gain any traction with you.”
“Oh, for fucks sake! And what if you got caught?” Clark asks utterly bewildered.
“Caught? Well, I didn’t do anything other than make a phone call asking for assistance, and … okay, maybe I got a little angry around town, but I’m sure Gio would help if I needed to get out of town. He has multiple private planes and our passports are current,” Marcie Claire tells her husband calmly.
She is far too calm for the topic at hand, and she’s clearly completely out of touch with reality right now. Her mental state would be concerning enough, but the fact she’s casually pointing a gun at Clark and me is downright terrifying as she continues, “We could retire in Cuba or somewhere else where extradition isn’t a concern. I’ve always loved the idea of living right on the beach. Doesn’t that sound lovely, Clark? Oooo, I could take Ellie to the beach!”
“Put the gun down, Marcie Claire,” Clark tells his wife.
She bristles at that suggestion. “What? No, this conversation isn’t over. We need to figure out how we bridge this … complication and come together as a family. Surely, we can find a way, yes?” Her eyebrows raise as she nods at me to agree with her. I see more movement behind her in the yard but refuse to draw attention to whatever is happening. If my mama is watching over me right now, I pray she is doing whatever possible to help whoever is out there and somehow get us out of this mess alive.
Clark must give up waiting on her to listen to him. Without saying another word, Clark leaps up off the couch reaching for the gun, but Marcie Claire reacts quickly and turns the gun back on him before he grabs it. As they grapple and struggle for control of the gun, Clark obviously decided it was worth the risk and didn’t think his own wife would shoot him.
But as the clap of the gunshot rings through the sunroom, it’s clear that we have all severely underestimated Marcie Claire.
Chapter forty-four
Walker
Fifteen Minutes Ago
Once I get Vivian’s bodyguard Tony on the phone, he lets me know that besides her SUV, the other two vehicles at the house were registered to Marcie Claire and her husband, Clark. Tony scoped out the property and confirmed they have security cameras mounted on the front of their house, and we don’t want to set off any alerts to give away our position. Checking my watch, I calculate Vivian has been inside with Marcie Claire for the last forty-five minutes or so. Our main advantage right now is the element of surprise, so we split into three teams in order to approach the house from each side, including the wooded lot that faces their backyard.
Despite calling and texting Vivian, I could not reach her, which has me on high alert. The three teams quickly move to their respective spots, and I tell everyone to hold their position while I get closer to see if we can get a better idea of where they are in the house. Someone has spent a lot of time cultivating a lush and extensive garden, which is providing excellent coverage for me as I sneak toward the house from the back. There is a conservatory or sunroom off the back, and I ignore the urge to rush up to the house. I don’t know what Marcie Claire is thinking right now, but my only priority is to get all innocent people out of the line of fire and then take my suspect into custody. We know she isn’t the sniper, but she is somehow connected to the case. I just needto have the opportunity to interrogate her to find out how she’s involved.
“Bravo One, this is Bravo Two. I have a visual of the suspect. She is currently holding at least two hostages with a small handgun in the sunroom,” Tara quietly tells me in my earpiece. “Hostages appear to be Clark Riley and Vivian Stone.”
Fuck!
This escalates everything and we need to get Vivian out of that house with Marcie Claire in handcuffs or a body bag, I don’t care as long as Vivian is safe. “Bravo Two, hold your position. I’m going to try to get a closer visual from the backyard.”
“Copy Bravo One, holding,” Tara says as she crouches down below the kitchen window, staying out of view from anyone in the Riley house.
I quickly move behind a large floral bush. Out of Marcie Claire’s line of sight, I hold my breath as she erratically waves the gun toward Vivian sitting beside her. Something upset Marcie Claire as she quickly points the gun at her husband, still speaking with her hands including the one holding the small handgun. I swiftly move closer to the back of the house and briefly make eye contact with Clark Riley. I’m not sure what his involvement is in all of this but by the way he’s keeping his hands open and up, he doesn’t seem to be on the same page as his wife. Marcie Claire turns to talk to Vivian, at the same time turning to point the gun at her.
I worry for a moment that Clark will draw attention to me or possibly tell his wife I’m outside on the patio. He looks back at me while his wife speaks to Vivian and gives me a sideways glance, before slowly nodding his head. As quietly as I can, I whisper just loud enough for my earpiece to pick it up. “Bravo team, be prepared to breach on my command. I think Clark Riley is going to force our hand.” Clark takes another small step toward his wife, and this is the third time I have noticed him doing this. He takesyet another small step and sits down on the couch next to his wife with his head in his hands.
“That’s a good copy, Bravo One, waiting on your signal,” Tara responds in my ear.
“This is Halo 2, moving into position and ready to breach on your signal, Bravo One,” the local SWAT leader confirms in my earpiece as well. We don’t have to wait long before Clark lunges up off the couch, reaching for the gun to take control and overpower his wife.
“Go, go, go!” I bellow, racing toward the house. A gunshot rings out sending my stomach pummeling as I reach the patio doors that easily open when I throw my shoulder into them.
“FBI, get your hands up!” I holler as I enter the room with my gun drawn and my eyes sweep to see if anyone was shot. My blood goes cold as I see Vivian on the floor with blood pooling around her. Tara enters the room from the doorway connecting to the house and swiftly subdues Marcie Claire before she can get another shot off.
