My Killer Vacation

“I’m not buying your attempts at psychology.”

“That’s fine, man. But the mayor needs to speak with you.”

“What?” He lowers the gun in surprise, but raises it back up just as quickly. “She’s not here. She’s in custody.”

But he’s splitting his attention now between me and Taylor. Good.

Just have to keep chipping away until it’s all on me and she can escape.

I bring the phone to my ear. “Mayor Robinson?” I say into the receiver.

“Yes,” she responds, briskly, but with an underlying weariness. “I didn’t know about Kurt. I didn’t know—”

“You were briefed by Wright?” I cut in.

She sighs. “I was, yes.”

“Good.” I swallow hard, inhaling and exhaling through a wave of dizziness. “Please. I need you to talk him down. He’s holding a gun on my girlfriend. If something happens to her…”

“I understand. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt over this. Put me on.”

The sudden confidence in her tone doesn’t make me feel better. Nothing is going to make me feel better until Taylor is out of the line of fire. Praying to a maker who I haven’t spoken to in a very long time, I hold the phone up to the bullhorn.

Rhonda’s voice carries down to the beach, accompanied by an opening squeal of feedback. “Kurt?”

The assistant’s head whips around. “Mayor?”

She can’t hear his response. Not yet, anyway. But she continues as if he’s listening. “I knew the day I hired you that it was one of the best decisions I ever made. And you have never let me down. Not once. There is no one on my staff that I trust more. No one that believes in my vision for this county and has the tools to help me execute it.”

“I had to do it!” he calls back, thinking Rhonda can hear him. “Stanley would have killed our chance at being reelected.”

I drop the phone away from the bullhorn, bringing the speaker to my mouth. “Kurt, the mayor has some things she would like to say to you in private. For your ears alone. Are you okay with me bringing down the phone?”

I hold my breath. Come on.

He’s torn. His attention shifts from the staircase to Taylor, back to me. “Leave your weapons up there. All of them. Or I’ll fucking shoot her, I swear to God.”

No.

Not going to let that happen, sweetheart. Have faith in me.

“Okay.” I set down the bullhorn and the phone, taking my gun out of my waistband and putting it on the ground. I lift both of my pant legs to show him I have nothing. “I’m unarmed, all right? I’m coming down.”

This guy might be book smart or politically savvy, but he’s an idiot to let me come within ten feet of him. I just have to hope he doesn’t realize that as I get closer. Holding up the phone like a peace offering, I travel down the steps slowly, heart ricocheting in my ribcage. Kurt is not stable. The closer I get, the more obvious that becomes. He’s muttering to himself. Every once in a while, he punctuates the air between him and Taylor with the muzzle of the gun, as if to remind her who is in charge. The tide could turn at any second.

Please just let me make it over there.

“Are you ready to speak to the mayor, Kurt?”

“Toss me the phone.”

I’m down on the beach now. It’s high tide, so I’m only about twenty yards from where they stand and I’m continuing to inch forward slowly, over the crunching seaweed and pebbles. “You’re pretty close to the water, man. I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Breathe. Breathe. She’s right there. Don’t think about how terrified she looks or you’ll lose it. “How about this? You let Taylor head back up the stairs and point the gun at me, instead. That way I can come over there and hand you the phone safely.”

“No. No way. I don’t know.”

“The mayor told me you would never hurt an innocent woman. She’s right, Kurt. I know she’s right. And she has a lot more to tell you. Let’s just let Taylor go home.”

“Myles,” she whimpers, shaking her head.

“It’s okay,” I rasp. I can’t look at her. I can’t look at her, even to reassure her. There’s still a gun pointed at her and I’m not good. The longer it’s trained on her, the more rapidly my sanity deteriorates. “Kurt?”

When he points the gun at me, I’m nearly felled with relief. “Go, Taylor.”

She hesitates.

“Go. Please.”

With a sob, she starts to run. Thank God. Thank God. I don’t move a single step until I hear her footsteps fade on the wooden planks of the stairs. Until I hear Jude’s exclamation and the flurry of police movement. Safe. She’s safe.

I hold out the phone in my right hand, the palm of my left hand visible.