Free High Noon by Nora Roberts Page A

didn’t say Mr. Gradey didn’t have the balls, he said ‘you asshole.’”
    Phoebe looked at Dave as Tracey began to shred one of her tissues into bits of fluff. “And so Mr. Gradey, he told the cop to come on in and get him, and he’d shoot him, and us, too. How he needed his money. He had to sell his car, and he didn’t have anywhere to live, and the cop’s saying he’ll be living in a cell and won’t need a car. After a while, it seemed like a long while, more cops came.
    “Do you think Brad’s here yet?”
    “I’ll go find out in just a minute. What happened next, Tracey?”
    “Well, Mr. Gradey, he got more upset. I thought, I really thought he was just going to shoot us and get it over with. I started crying again, loud I guess. He told me not to worry, it wasn’t my fault. Cops and lawyers, he said. It was cops and lawyers, and they always fucked over regular people. I think…”
    “What do you think?” Phoebe prompted.
    “I think he was going to let me go on out. I just got the feeling. Me, not Jasper. ’Cause he asked if he let me go out, would I tell the cops about the money, and I said I would. Sure I would. Then the phone rang. That cop Meeks yelled for Jasper to answer. ‘Pick up the phone, you son of a bitch.’”
    Tracey let out a sigh. “I know it sounds stupid, but that policeman scared me about as much as Mr. Gradey and the gun.” She swiped at her eyes. “I wish he’d just shut up. I wish he had because I think Mr. Gradey was going to let me go, and maybe he wouldn’t’ve shot himself in the head right in front of me. I don’t know.”
    “Okay, Tracey. All right now,” Phoebe soothed as Tracey began to sob.
    “It was so awful to see. He said how I could sit up when he was asking me if I’d tell the police about the money. So I was sitting there on the floor when the phone rang and all. I couldn’t hear what the other guy said, but I was watching Mr. Gradey. I was watching and thinking if he lets me go, I’m never coming back to this office. I’ll go back, take some more business courses, get me a better job. Mr. Gradey didn’t say much, but he looked sad. Scared. Sad and scared like I was, and he hung up the phone. Next time it rang, I didn’t think he was going to answer. Then he looked at me and said how he was going to put it on speaker so I could see how y’all treated people like us. So I could see how we didn’t have a chance. There was a woman on this time. It was you,” Tracey said after a moment. “Sure, it was you. So you know what happened next.”
    “Yes. I know what happened next.”
    Phoebe waited until they were outside, away from people, in the balm of spring air. “He incited the suicide. He risked the lives of two hostages with his posturing. He ignored procedure, trampled over every guideline of negotiation. And for what?”
    “Not every police officer has negotiation skills, or understands how to handle a hostage situation from that standpoint.”
    She rounded on it, couldn’t stop herself. “Goddamn it, Dave. Are you defending him? Are you, for one second, defending what he did?”
    “No.” Dave held up a hand. “And I’m not going to argue with you, Phoebe. Not when you’re right. Officer Meeks will be debriefed.”
    “I’ll be debriefing him. It’s my purview,” she said before Dave could deny.
    “And you and Arnie Meeks already have considerable friction. You were on the line with the subject when he terminated.”
    “If I don’t debrief Meeks, it undermines my authority. He didn’t call it in for nearly two hours. Right there, he’s earned a rip. This isn’t a matter of him having a problem with me. It’s a matter of him being a problem, with a badge.”
    “You be careful it doesn’t smell like payback.”
    “A man’s dead. There’s no paying it back.”
     
    Phoebe took her time, in fact took the rest of the long day, to gather statements, information, to write up her notes and complete the incident report.
    Then