Eighteen minutes in all, if everything went exactly as Andrea had guessed. The call to Laura had ended at 11:59. The soonest someone could get here would be 12:17.
“Heads up,” Ricky slid the tequila shot down the length of the counter.
The glass stopped shy of Star’s pointy elbow.
This was clearly part of the game that Ricky played with Nardo. She couldn’t cross the red line. Star wasn’t only there as an audience. She was there to serve him.
“Let’s go, girl.” Nardo rapped his knuckles on the table. “You need to lift those spirits.”
Improbably, Ricky laughed. She was watching Star with a look of sick satisfaction on her face. The sound of her knife hitting the cutting board turned into a staccato as Star went through the slow mechanics of delivering the drink to Nardo. Her yellow dress swayed back and forth on her angular frame. Her bare feet sounded like a whisper as they brushed across the floor.
Andrea’s eyes found the mirror again, but this time she wanted to see outside. The blue truck was the only vehicle in the street. She looked at the clock again. Only a minute had passed.
“Waitress,” Nardo called to Ricky again. “Where’s my dessert, old girl? Maybe I should speak to the manager. The service here is atrocious.”
Ricky rolled her eyes for Andrea’s benefit, but she followed his order. She used a chef’s knife to cut off a large chunk of chocolate cake. Then she dropped the plate on the counter for Star to retrieve.
Andrea clenched her teeth as Star haltingly traversed the room. Silently, she ran through the timeline again. Laura to Mike. Mike to Compton. Compton to the surveillance team. They wouldn’t rush into the building. They would see three potential hostages. They would assume that Nardo was armed. Like Andrea, they would assume it was a SIG Sauer P365 with ten opportunities to take out three different hostages.
Andrea couldn’t do anything about Ricky or herself, but Star was inches away. She was reaching for the plate with Nardo’s slice of cake. Her chapped lips were parted. Andrea could smell the sickly, medicine odor of her breath.
Andrea said, “I talked to your mother.”
Star said nothing.
“She misses you. She wants to see you.”
“Hon,” Ricky told Andrea. “I know you’re trying to help, but—”
The plate dropped from Star’s hand. The thin china broke in two. The cake rolled off the edge, smearing across the counter.
“Fucksakes.” Ricky reached for a bar rag to clean up the mess.
Nardo asked, “What happened over there?”
“Your fucking Skeletor broke a plate is what happened.” Ricky turned around to wet the rag at the bar sink. “Jesus, Nardo. Why can’t you just leave?”
Star’s head was bowed. Her eyes glistened with tears that would not fall.
Andrea told the girl, “Go down the hall. Walk out the back door.”
“Walk out what, you say?” Nardo was pushing himself up from the table. “Star, heel. Back to your spot. Be a good little doggie.”
Andrea could not stop Star from returning to her place at the end of the counter. She watched the woman slowly spin around on the stool to face the blank tile wall again.
“Come now, southern gal.” Nardo slowly walked across the room. “I’ve only taken dear Star out on loan. She’s expected back in one piece.”
Andrea stood up. She wasn’t going to be sitting when Nardo reached her.
“Keep it cool, Robocop.” Nardo showed her his hands, but he kept walking. “Star’s the best girl on the farm. Didn’t you hear? She won a-trophy.”
Andrea had no time to form a response.
Two things happened in quick succession.
Ricky started laughing.
Jack Stilton walked through the door.