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His foot slipped off the gas entirely, though, when he heard the dispatcher’s voice coming through the speaker. He recognized the address, or thought he did, but that couldn’t be right. He snatched the mike off the cradle and pressed the button. “Dispatch, repeat the 20,” he demanded but turned the wheel and took the next cross street, just in case. The dispatcher repeated the source of the call. Caleb shook his head, unable to understand it, but didn’t want to waste valuable time questioning it. He slammed the mike back down on the cradle, flipped on the lights and sirens, and hit the gas hard. The cruiser rocketed forward and he spun the wheel to keep control of the car.
He flew past Maria’s bar, taking a hard left at the stoplight. He passed a car that wasn’t slowing down enough and nearly collided head on with a pickup truck coming straight at him. He avoided the head-on collision by yanking the wheel back to the right and cutting off the Camry behind him. He turned onto the now-familiar street and pulled up against the curb, squealing the brakes. He threw the cruiser into park and jumped out the door. The car was still rocking back and forth as he exited.
The rookie was on-scene again, standing on the front porch with another, older, man in uniform. Caleb recognized him, but couldn’t recall his name. From the looks of it, things had already spiraled out of control. With one hand the rookie was holding the screen door partially open, but wouldn’t cross the threshold. With his other hand he was gesturing wildly to the man next to him, who looked to be radioing for more backup.
For one brief yet horrifying moment, Caleb thought perhaps they were all too late. Chilling images of limp bodies and faces plastered with blood-matted hair swam in his vision, but he shook them off as he ran across the lawn. As he neared the house, he heard the impossible sound of the asshole who lived here shouting from inside. But that couldn’t be right, because the asshole was cooling his heels in lockup and there was no way he’d scraped together enough cash to bail out.
Caleb mounted the steps as the rookie turned to face him. A look of surprise registered on the younger man’s face as recognition set in.
“You shouldn’t be here,” the rookie told him.
Caleb ignored him and reached for the door.
“You can’t go in there!”
The rookie tried to push the edge of the door out of Caleb’s grasp. “He’s got a knife. He’s bashed up the place,” the younger man informed him breathlessly as he jerked his head to the second uniform. “We’re calling HRT and we’re supposed to—”
“Fuck Hostage Rescue,” Caleb snapped and grabbed the door firmly. He chanced a look inside and what he saw confirmed the rookie’s report. Furniture was overturned. Stuffing from the couch was scattered all over the floor, the first victim of the knife the asshole had in his grip. At least Caleb hoped so.
Moira was a few feet away, her back pressed against the living room wall. The kid was nowhere in sight.
“They could be dead before Hostage Rescue even rolls out,” Caleb told the rookie in a hushed tone. He yanked on the door, opening it wide.
“You can’t—” the rookie tried to argue, but Caleb disappeared inside.
The asshole’s gaze barely tracked Caleb’s entrance as he moved farther into the living room. Judging by the way he swayed on his feet, he was drunk or high or both.
Caleb glanced around the living room. The kid wasn’t here. His door in the adjacent hallway was closed. Caleb hoped he was cowering under his bed.
“ ‘S you,” the asshole slurred, glaring at him. “Look, Moira. It’s your boyfriend. The one you were fawning all over. ‘Yes, Officer,’ ” he said mockingly, “ ‘come in, Officer. Let me get you a glass of water, Officer. Oh and here’s Mike’s one-hitter over here on the table and get a closer look at my lip, also courtesy of Mike for fucking nagging him so goddamn much!’ ”
Caleb glanced at Moira, who had already retreated mentally from the situation, as he suspected she’d done a thousand times before. Caleb noticed that while said lip was healing, her left eye was a deep purple and nearly swollen shut. She didn’t appear to have any other injuries. The knife looked clean and Caleb supposed that was a good sign, under the circumstances.
“Where’s the boy?” Caleb asked.
“Fuck you! And you,” he snarled, jabbing the blade in his direction. “You got a big mouth, too. Telling me I’m not a fucking man. Bullshit I ain’t! Go to work, come home, just want some fucking peace!” He turned his gaze to Moira, then took a step toward her.
