Even though Galloway kept the telephone receiver to his ear, he gave Russell Dendy his full attention. He suspected that Dendy was tight. He'd been sipping at the flask throughout the evening. He appeared extremely upset, on the brink of losing control of his emotions. He was no longer being a belligerent pain in the ass.
"I'm listening, Mr. Dendy." 'Just get them out of there safely. That's what's important now. Tell Sabra she can keep the baby. I won't interfere.
That videotape of my daughter…" He rubbed the back of his hand across leaking eyes. "It got to me. Nothing else matters anymore. I just want to see my daughter safely out of there."
"That's my goal too, Mr. Dendy," Galloway assured him.
"Agree to any of the boy's terms."
"I'll negotiate for him the best deal I can. But first, I've got to get him to talk to me."
The telephone continued to ring.
"Ronnie?"
The young man didn't realize that Doc was in possession of the pistol. Evidently, in all the confusion, Ronnie had forgotten about Cain's secreted weapon. Doc raised his hand, and, seeing the gun, the younger man flinched.
Donna let out a squeak of fright before clapping both hands over her mouth.
But Doc palmed the short barrel and extended the grip toward Ronnie. "That's how much faith I have in you to make the right decision."
Looking terribly young, uncertain, and vulnerable, Ronnie took the gun and stuffed it into the waistband of his jeans. "You already know my decision, Doc."
"Suicide? That's not a decision. That's a chickenshit copout."
The boy blinked in surprise over the blunt language, but it served to shake his resolve, which Tiel surmised was Doc's intention. "I don't want to talk about it. Sabra and I have made up our minds."
"Answer the phone," Doc encouraged in a calm, persuasive voice. "Tell them what happened in here. They heard the shots. They don't know what the hell is going on, but they're probably thinking the worst. Allay their fears, Ronnie. Otherwise, at any second a SWAT team may come barging in here, and somebody will wind up bloody, possibly dead."
"What SWAT team? You're lying."
"Would I lie to you after handing you a loaded gun?
Hardly. I saw men taking up positions while you were distracted by tying up those Mexican guys. The SWAT team is out there, itching for a signal from Galloway. Don't give him reason to activate them."
Ronnie glanced nervously through the plate glass, but he could see nothing except the growing number of official vehicles that had converged on the area and created a traffic jam on the highway.
"Let me answer the phone, Ronnie," Tiel suggested, stepping forward to take advantage of his indecision.
"Let's hear what they have to say about the video. Their reaction to it might have been very positive. They could be calling to agree to all your conditions."
"Okay," he muttered, motioning her toward the telephone.
She counted it a blessing to stop the infernal ringing.
"It's Tiel," she said upon lifting the receiver.
"Ms. McCoy, who fired those shots? What's going on in there?"
Galloway's brusqueness conveyed his concern. Not wanting to keep him in suspense, as succinctly as possible she explained how Cain's pistol had come to be fired. "It was hairy there for a minute or two, but the situation is now under control again. The two men who caused the fracas have been contained," she said, using Doc's euphemistic terminology.
"You're referring to the two Mexican men?"
"That's correct."
"They're secure?"
"Correct again."