Page 127 of Tasting Fire
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Cash eased openthe classroom door and peeked out to check for the transport medics. What he caught sight of instead was Mrs. Southerland and Emmy hurrying in the direction of the gym. A glint of metal in Mrs. Southerland’s hand flashed in the fluorescent lighting.
The gun.
Oh, hell. They were arrowing toward an exterior door. If the woman forced Emmy off school property, it was likely a death sentence.
Cash spoke into his radio. “Kingston checking in. Suspect and one hostage are en route toward the exterior door on the southwest side of the building.”
“Affirmative. Jenkins and Taylor, move to intersect.”
Cash patched himself through to the approaching medics, gave them a quick rundown on the kid’s condition. Then he made a decision that would probably cost him his job. His professional future.
But not his dreams.
He told the teacher, “I’ve done everything I can for this student. Transport medics are less than sixty seconds out, and they’ll get him to the hospital.” Then he slipped out of the classroom and ran toward the door Emmy had disappeared through.
Cash burst outside, the heavy metal exterior door swinging wide. He caught it before it crashed against the brick building and spotted Emmy and Mrs. Southerland walking into a barrier of evergreen trees. The school district had planted them a few years ago because the man who owned all the acreage behind it was known for his so-calledcollecting.
Hoarding was more like it.
Cash took several long breaths and compelled his heart rate to steady. This would demand all the detachment he could pull together. He had to take down a woman who’d apparently lost all grip on right and wrong. Cash slipped through the tree line, but remained in the shadows of the cedars and pines.
Up ahead, Mrs. Southerland and Emmy made their way into wild shrubs and weeds taller than either of their heads. No telling what else was in that jungle.
Even at that distance, he heard Emmy say, “The farther we go, the better. This property intersects with the highway. Once you’re done with me, it’ll make your escape easier.”
Even though her calm getaway instructions made Cash’s chest tight, he knew she was doing the right thing, keeping Mrs. Southerland engaged and busy for as long as possible.
How could everyone in town have missed this? Missed the signs of Karen Southerland becoming unhinged?
How couldhehave missed it?
Now it might cost Emmy her life.
You deal with life-and-death shit every day.For some reason, Way’s matter-of-fact advice always came to Cash during times like this.You can handle this.
Youwillhandle this.
And Cash couldn’t forget that Emmy was a grown woman, well-trained, smart, and levelheaded. Cash followed them, every step a careful placement to avoid making noise and stepping on something that would either bite him or break his leg.
After a half mile or so, Mrs. Southerland grabbed Emmy by the braid and pulled so hard that her back bowed. “This is far enough.”
“But…But it’s still a mile to the highway.”
“Get over there.” She used the gun to gesture toward an ancient refrigerator.
Emmy walked over and braced her back against the fridge with her feet spread aggressively. “Mrs. Southerland, let’s talk this out.”
“No. It was your persuasive little mouth—and I guess your golden squeeze box—that caused all this in the first place.”
Squeeze box?
Un. Hinged.
Emmy’s eyes flashed wide and she bit down on her lips as if holding in laughter. How the hell could she find anything about this funny?
Finally, Emmy let it loose, and thank God her chuckles came across as incredulity instead of mocking. “Are you telling me that you think I have a spellbinding vagina?”
