Chapter 6 - Cornered at the Docks
My phone buzzed violently on the console.
The caller ID showed Detective Hayes.
"Marcus, we located Margaret Vance," Hayes barked, the sound of howling harbor wind filling the background.
"Where is she?"
"She abandoned the car at Pier 42 and tried to board an offshore commercial tugboat. Our tactical team has her boxed in against the shipping containers, but she's threatening to jump into the freezing channel."
I shifted the SUV into drive, tires spinning against the wet gravel.
"Keep her pinned. I'm three minutes away."
"Mr. Whitaker, wait!" Emily said, leaning forward. "Take me with you."
"It's dangerous, Emily. Margaret is backed into a corner."
"I spent three weeks watching Margaret interact with your son," Emily said firmly, her voice carrying the quiet authority of an experienced nurse.
"She isn't a hardened criminal, Marcus. She's desperate and terrified. If your police rush her, she'll drown in that water, and you'll never get the testimony you need to put your brother behind bars."
I looked at the determination in her eyes and nodded.
We sped toward the waterfront, the sirens echoing against the brick warehouses.
Pier 42 was lit by the harsh halogen floodlights of three tactical police cruisers.
Margaret stood on the edge of the wooden pier, clutching a sodden trench coat around her shaking frame, the black, churning waves of Boston Harbor roaring ten feet below her boots.
Officers had their sidearms drawn, shouting commands over the wind.
"Step back, all of you!" I yelled, stepping out of the car into the biting gale.
May you like
Margaret snapped her head toward my voice, her eyes wide with hysterical panic.
"Mr. Whitaker... please, don't let them shoot me!" she shrieked, backing another inch closer to the edge.
