Ripple Effect

Chapter Eighty: ...Hail Marys.

Henry

11:21 AM

"All units dispatch immediately to..." Agent Hayes half-shouted down the phone as he read out the address of the clinic from the back of business card Russell had kept stashed in his wallet. The instructions that he gave his colleagues he half-shouted too, whilst he paced back and forth in front of the window beyond the kitchen table. The rain hammered against the glass and the gloom outside seeped in. The fronts of his black woollen overcoat flapped with each stride and each pivot on his heel. "Suspect was last seen driving a Silver Ford Focus outside Fredericksburg. Suspect may have access to a homemade explosive device..."

Henry shook his head and hit redial. He shot Russell a look as he raised his cell phone to his ear and paced behind the back of the couch. His heart thundered against his ribs as hard and as heavy as the rods of rain against the windows. "If he's already in Fredericksburg, they'll never get there in time. And don't tell me there are agents on the gate. They didn't so much as glance at me when I pulled up, just let me drive straight through." The call went straight to answerphone again. He scowled at the screen. "And why the hell don't her agents have satphones?"

"Because she's in Virginia, not Outer Mongolia, for crying out loud." Russell gave him a dark look and raised his own cell phone to his ear again. He turned away and faced the back door, where the net curtains ruffled in the draught. "Come on...come on..."

Henry hit redial again. His jaw tightened whilst he raised his cell phone to his ear and waited for the familiar patter of the answerphone message. "You knew there was no signal. You should have done something about it. Not just leave her stranded. If something happens to her—"

"Then that's on you." Russell spun around. His expression twisted into a snarl. "If it weren't for you sending her brother there with a goddamn tracker on his car—"

"I didn't know."

"—and if he hadn't gotten it into her head that she needed to stay there rather than coming home when she was supposed to, then none of this would be an issue."

"I was trying to help her."

"Well, you can put that on her goddamn headstone."

"Will the two of you just stop?" Stevie shouted. She, Alison and Jason clustered at the end of the kitchen island, each pale-faced and pinch-browed as they too went through cycle after cycle of hitting redial, raising their cell phones, lowering their cell phones, hitting redial...

Stevie had stopped with her thumb poised over the screen. Her gaze shot back and forth between Henry and Russell, her expression fixed in a scowl. "The two of you arguing over who's to blame isn't helping, and it doesn't matter anyway, so just stop it and focus on trying to get through."

She continued to scowl at them. In the background, Agent Hayes's half-shouts down the line to the local police department competed with the roar of the rain.

Stevie hit redial again, and still scowling at Henry and Russell, she raised her phone.

Henry cradled his cell phone in his palm and watched the kids whilst they continued to place call after call. The swarm of nausea that thickened the pit of his stomach roiled. They shouldn't be involved in this, they shouldn't be frantically and futilely dialling number after number in a bid to warn DS that someone was only minutes away from trying to kill their mother, he should have...

He should have what? He couldn't tell them everything would be okay and ask that they wait it out in their rooms; he couldn't lie and say, 'Of course Mom's safe. DS will protect her.'; he couldn't hide them from what was happening or offer them words of comfort.

Elizabeth's note to Stevie burned in the back pocket of his jeans. He'd forgotten about it until now. He hadn't passed it on because he thought it would bring them more worry than comfort. But what if that's all they had left? I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you... For each birthday, each Thanksgiving, each Christmas. I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you... For each graduation, each wedding, each birth. I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you.

His gaze flicked back to the screen, he scrolled down to the clinic's number and hit dial again. When he lifted the phone to his ear, the beep, beep, beep of the engaged tone taunted him. He hit dial again—beep, beep, beep—and again—beep, beep, beep. They had to get through.

"It's ringing." Jason grabbed Stevie's arm. "Uncle Will's phone's ringing."

Everyone turned to Jason and froze. No one dared take a breath. The only sound came from the rain pummelling against the doors and windows. Jason's face had ashened and his eyes had taken on a faraway glaze, whilst his fingertips dug so tight into Stevie's wrist that her skin blanched.

Forever could have passed in a matter of seconds. A lifetime compressed into a dot.

"Well?" Russell said.

Jason's throat bobbed. He shook his head. "He's not picking up." He lowered the phone and stared down at the screen, as though asking it what he had done wrong. His hand fell away from Stevie's arm. "Why's he not picking up?"

Henry pivoted to Russell. "Try Dr Sherman. If they're in the same room—"

But Russell had already lifted his phone to his ear. He met Henry's gaze. Fear lurked in the whites of his eyes. It was at once so honest and so unsettling. "She'll have it on silent... That's if she has it with her at all."

Yet he was trying anyway. Was that what they were down to? Hail Marys.

A moment later, Russell shook his head. His chest deflated. "Answerphone."

Agent Hayes edged past the chairs that stood between the kitchen table and the shelving unit behind. He cast a sideways glance to the kids, who had resumed jabbing at their touchscreens and lifting their phones to their ears, though their frowns had deepened now, their movements more jittery than before. He lowered his voice as he turned to Russell and Henry, his hands on his hips beneath the fronts of his overcoat. "Critical Incident Response are en route. The pilots can handle the rain, but even so, they're fifteen, maybe twenty minutes out." He gave a shrug that spoke more of nerves than nonchalance. "Local PD are on their way too. If they get there first, they'll get word to the secretary's detail."

The patter of rain thrummed through Henry's veins. It displaced his pulse. "Do we have fifteen minutes? Given where the gas station is compared to the clinic?"

"Five minutes ago, maybe. Now...?" Agent Hayes drew in a sharp breath and shook his head. He avoided Henry's gaze. "It's going to be close. If we can't get through and warn her detail, and if he has a bomb, and a potentially volatile one at that—"

"Hello?" Alison said.

Agent Hayes stopped. He twisted around to face Alison.

Alison stood halfway between the kitchen island and the table. Her cell phone was pinned to one ear, the first two fingers of her opposite hand pressed to the other. "This is Alison McCord, Elizabeth McCord's daughter... I know she hasn't given permission for you to talk to me, but... If you'd just... It's important..."

Russell charged forward, and Agent Hayes jumped out of the way. Russell snatched the phone from Alison, clutched it to his ear, and turned his back on her whilst she held her hands up in either shock or surrender, or both. "This is Russell Jackson. I need to speak to a member of Secretary McCord's security detail now—. I said: Now."