Every Second

“Any idea of trouble, stress? Or if anyone would want to harm them?”

“Absolutely not,” Ward said.

“What do you think happened?”

“We wish we knew, so we could help,” Violet said. “All we know is what police told us.”

Kate’s radar locked on that as Ward shot his wife a cautionary glance. But Kate remained casual. She was skilled at extracting information.

“That Dan robbed his own bank this morning,” Kate said, “and that there was supposedly a hostage situation at his home,” she added, inviting the Selways to elaborate. “It’s so troubling, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Violet said. “Especially since they all had bombs strapped to them.”

Kate shot a look to Violet then Ward.

“Really?”

“According to police,” Ward said.

“Did they give any indication of who’s behind it?”

“No. And now they can’t find Dan, or Lori, or Billy!” Violet sobbed into her hands and Ward put his arms around her. “I pray they’re okay!”

“I’m sorry,” Ward said. “This is too upsetting. We’ll have to end it there.”

After thanking them, Kate and Gabe returned to the street. Kate exhaled, stopped to check her notes and her recording.

Gabe, who’d stepped back during Kate’s interview, angled his camera to her, displaying the pictures he’d taken, favoring one of Violet Selway, anguished face buried in her hands, Ward’s arm around her, Sam at their feet looking up at them with big eyes.

“Distraught neighbors and the Fultons’ dog,” Gabe said.

“It’s good,” Kate said, noticing that down the block the situation had changed with the cat lady. “Let’s talk to her.”

The woman was now out of the patrol car, leaning against it, holding her cat. The officers with her had moved off to consult other cops at a van nearby.

Kate approached, smiling once the woman noticed her.

“That’s a pretty cat,” she said. “What’s her name?”

“Lacey Lou.”

“Very cute.” Kate, bearing in mind the officers were near, kept her voice soft. “I’m Kate Page, and this is Gabe Atwater. We’re with Newslead. Some neighbors of the Fultons’ have been sharing their thoughts with us. Can we talk to you briefly?”

The woman looked around as if seeking permission.

“It’ll only take a second.” Kate opened her notebook and shrugged. “You could summarize what you told police, like the other neighbors did.”

“Well, I guess it would be all right.”

“What’s your name?”

“Charlene Biddle.”

Kate took down the spelling.

“Charlene, do you know the Fultons?”

“No, I don’t. I live around the block.”

“What did you tell police?”

“Well, last night Lacey didn’t come home at her usual time. I waited and waited until I got worried. So I got up and looked for her around the block because I thought that’s where she’d gone.”

“What time was this?”

“Oh, about two or two-thirty, I’m not sure.”

“You went alone?”

“This is a good neighborhood. I wasn’t afraid.”

Gabe nudged Kate. Two men in suits had left the Selway house and were heading up the street, staring directly at Kate and Charlene Biddle.

“What happened when you went looking for Lacey?” Kate asked.

“When we got near the house there, Lacey was in the yard beside it. I called her, and she wouldn’t come—this stubborn cat has a mind of her own. I tiptoed into the yard to get her. When I did, I saw a van parked in the driveway.” Charlene nodded to the Fultons’ house. “And people were getting into it. It looked like two men were sort of...pushing a woman and smaller person into the van. It was all quiet and quick and then they drove off.”

“Do you recall—” Kate glanced at the approaching men “—do you recall any details, like a license plate?”

“I didn’t see anything clearly. It was dark. I know it was odd, but I thought it was people going home from a party, and a few of them were drunk, kidding around. I got Lacey and went home. Then this morning police came knocking on everyone’s door to move us out because of something happening, and so I told them what I saw. They wanted me to wait right here so I could talk to the detectives.”

“Okay, thanks, Charlene.” Kate closed her notebook, turned to leave.

“Hold up there!” A big-chested man, the older of the two, stepped into Kate’s space. “Who’re you?”

“Kate Page, Newslead.” She held up her ID. “This is Gabe Atwater, Newslead.” Kate tried to read the badge hanging from the older man’s chain. “Who’re you guys?”

“Detective Tilden, NYPD.”

Kate glanced at the younger man, who had a Brad Pitt thing going.

“Nick Varner, FBI. Over here, please.”

The two men took Kate and Gabe aside to talk privately.

“What’ve you got?” Kate opened her notebook, pen poised.

“We’ve got a problem,” Tilden said.