Chapter 56
“Tell me again why a forensic psychologist went inside that house,” the officer demanded. He glared at Oscar, red and blue lights twisting and reflecting around them. “I know that you have told me twice already, but I am still confused why you allowed a civilian to enter an active scene, Detective Harrison.”
“He is a consultant,” Oscar corrected. He was despising the rain as it relentlessly continued to pour. Pounding rain made everything more difficult. Everything. But it was beginning to let up a little, or so it seemed to him. Of that he was finding himself grateful. And that was the only thing that the detective was presently finding himself grateful for.
“Well, I will be damned,” the officer said, sarcastically throwing up his hands. “My mistake.”
“I don’t have time for this, officer…?” Oscar pretended to forget the man’s name, like it was irrelevant to anything that was taking place. “Wiles. Right. I don’t have time for this shit, Officer Wiles. What is going on inside that house is far more complex than you or anyone out here could fully understand in the little amount of time I have to explain it.” He pointed at the police cars, marked and unmarked, and at the group of officers that was steadily growing. “And I am not going to spell it out for you, officer Wiles…letter…by…letter. I won’t. You need to just listen and follow my lead. I know that this is your town…but that is my boy in there and he is trying to save his boy. I need to have point on this.”
“Scott Walters?”
Oscar grunted.
“You mean the suspected murderer and kidnapper?” Officer Wiles asked. “I thought I was here because of him…not to help save him. I figured we were coming to save the man that was kidnapped, abducted against his will. Not the abductor. I’m sorry if that sounds a little…nuts…to me. Nuts? Yes. That is the word I want. Nuts. And who is this?” He pointed to Amber Barrett’s body. “Who did we have to put down? Amber Barrett, the current occupant of this residence? And why was she pointing a gun at my men? Is she involved with Scott Walters? Or was she trying to help her father, the person believed that have been taken? This is a Barrett owned home, I have to add. Does any of this make sense to you, sir? Because my head hurts badly.”
Oscar sighed.
Oscar replied. “Yes. Sort of. What I am trying to tell you is that Lucky is the captive but his own personal hit squad has shown up to save their boss. They located his whereabouts somehow and they have come into your town with the seriousness of a lightning bolt. There is no longer black and white…there is all kinds of gray going on here. You need to see that.”
Wiles put his hands on his finely trimmed blonde hair. Oscar watched as the officer’s bravado melted away, like a block of ice under a heated lamp. The seriousness of the scene might have finally washed completely over the Oak Hill police officer. He wordlessly conceded. “And you say there are two armed men lying in the back yard of the house? And that you are sure that there are more armed men inside of the structure? But you can’t say how many?”
“No doubt.”
“In case you didn’t know, even us slow town, sleepy eyed cops have heard of Lucky Barrett,” the young officer stated. He sighed deep and long. “I believe you. Damn it. I still don’t get it, though. But I think that it is possible that you are right. Which only makes this shit worse. Much worse and much more volatile.”
“You are going to cease with the busting of my balls, then?” Oscar exploded. “We don’t have to whip em out and measure.”
“None of this makes sense in my small part of the world,” Wiles clarified.
Oscar felt his frustration lessening to a bearable level. “Think of it like this,” he began. “It will make it easier to digest. My best friend and partner is in there, right now, trying to save his son, a young man who has lost touch with what is real and what is not. He is confused. He is blind and scared. But he is also being manipulated. My partner just wants to bring his son out of that house in one piece, alive. I see the ring on your finger, detective. Either you have kids or you will someday. Put yourself in Ashe Walter’s shoes. Walk around for a second. What crazy shit would you do to save your child…from others…and himself?”
Wiles rocked back onto his heels. He then twisted his neck and popped a handful of joints at its base. “I’m not sure how to proceed.”
“You are the lead officer here. Am I right? We need to make to put together our strategy,” Oscar replied. “This is much more than a simple kidnapping turn hostage situation. You understand? I can tell that you do.”
“We have a hostage negotiator on the way,” the Oak Hill Officer informed.
Oscar shook his head. “No time.”
“We will just have to make time,” Wiles insisted. “This is Oak Hill, Detective Harrison. Not Youngstown. Or Cleveland. Or Warren. We are a suburb. Wholesome. Quiet. Plain. Outside of the influence of men like Lucky Barrett and his hit squads. We need a negotiator from the city to take the reins on this one. This is madness,” he said, pointing around to all the officers and all the flashing cars.” Oscar agreed with the young officer. It was madness. And the amount of officers on scene, all helter-skelter like, was chaotic, to say the least, proving to the seasoned detective that the small and its inexperience force was ill-equipped to handle the current situation. “I am out of my league, here,” Wiles added. “We all are.”
“May I? Let me be the master and you can be the apprentice.”
Wiles reluctantly agreed. “Only until the negotiator arrives.”
“Good,” Oscar breathed. “But I am not in charge in any known capacity. I am an outsider and your men will never follow me. The orders have to come through you. From me…through you. We clear?”
The young man understood.
“How did you become lead officer on this mess anyway kid?” the homicide detective inquired. “You seem a little green behind the ears.”
“The night crew is made up of all new recruits mixed with those with only a couple of years of experience,” Wiles answered. “Unlike where you’re from, nothing ever happens here after 8 p.m. more drastic than an old lady mistaken a stray cat to be horny prowler. I have the most time put in on. Just lucky, I guess.”
“How much time?”
“Almost four years…give or take,” the officer said. “Mostly take.”
“Damn, son,” Oscar declared. “You are in over your head, aren’t you? Don’t worry. I am here with you. And I have enough experience down in the muck for both of us. And one year of my city experience counts for three of yours, sorry to say.” Oscar laughed. It was a joke, but only half of one, because part of it was true.
“I agree.”
“Hostage negotiations are all about strategy,” Oscar explained over the roar of the rain. “I have some experience with it.” He ignored the look on the officer’s face when he used the word…some. “It is all about…I…C…E…R…pronounced ice-ER. Isolate. Contain. Evaluate. And report. Got it? Okay. Let’s get to work, young padawan.”
Detective Harrison paused to collect his thoughts. He wasn’t sure how he was going to word the details that he was about to dictate to the young officer. He would have to push Officer Wiles quickly to the end results, skipping or skimming over the middle mess. It would simply take too long to explain every little detail. He had to divulge as much as he could, though, because it wouldn’t do the young guy or the situation at hand any good by keeping secrets or half-truths. It would be hard to understand and even hard to fully believe, the detective was sure. It had taken a few specific steps, specific bread crumbs to get there himself.
“I need to get you up to speed on everything that is going on here,” Oscar said. He then began to dictate the events. It took a few minutes to speed through important points and when he was finished he was shocked to see the young officer simply nod, like a well-trained soldier would nod to the ramblings of
his command.
The kid had potential.
“You still with me?” Oscar asked.
“I am.”
“I need to speak with someone in there…A…S…A…P,” Oscar grunted. “I need a line into that house…several minutes ago.”
The officer began shouting banter into his mobile phone. Other officers were moving and things were being done. It was like a frantic anthill. Wiles turned around and grabbed the first uniform to come within arm’s reach of him. The uniform appeared even younger than Wiles, if that was possible. The young uniform became startled at suddenly being under someone’s grasp. Wiles spoke over the pounding water. “Do we have the phone number yet?” he barked at the clutched uniform. The young uniform didn’t reply soon enough. “Go and get it! Now! I want it in my hands in less than a minute! Go! Get it!”
The young officer ran off. In less than a minute, as ordered, the same young man returned with a slip of paper in his hand. The slip was rapidly getting wet in the rain. He handed it to Wiles who in turn passed it to Detective Harrison.
“We found the registered landline, sir. It is under the name Amber Barrett,” the young uniform stated before running off on another crucial mission.
Oscar slid into the passenger side of the nearest open patrol car, using the roof of the vehicle for protection against the falling water. He managed to decipher the jotted down phone number before pulling out his cell phone, even though the ink on the paper was rapidly turning into pointless black streaks. He dialed the number and attempted to make contact.