A Maidens Grave

directly toward Potter’s face. (And his reaction? To scream to her, “Get down!” And fling his arms around her to protect his new love, as bits of her skull snapped against his skin.)
    Have you ever wanted to do something bad?
    Be  . . .
    Yes, Lou, I have. If you must know.
     . . . forewarned.
    Potter was unable to say anything for a moment, afraid to offend Handy, afraid that he’d hang up. Almost as afraid of that as of Handy’s killing the girl. “Listen to me, Lou. I tell you in good faith we’re working on this chopper and I asked you to tell me something that you’llaccept to buy another hour.” Potter added, “We’re trying to work out a deal. Help me out here.”
    There was a pause and the confident voice said, “It’s thirsty work, here.”
    Ah, let’s play a game. “Diet Pepsi?” the agent asked coyly.
    “You know what I’m talking about.”
    “Lemonade, made out of fresh Sunkist?”
    LeBow hit several keys and showed the screen to Potter, who nodded.
    “Glass of mother’s milk?” Handy sneered.
    Reading Wilcox’s profile, Potter said, “I don’t think liquor’s a real good idea, Lou. Shep has a bit of a problem, doesn’t he?”
    A pause.
    “You boys sure seem to know a lot about us.”
    “That’s what they pay me my meager salary for. To know everything in the world.”
    “Well, that’s the deal. One hour for some booze.”
    “Nothing hard. No way.”
    “Beer’s fine. ’S’ more to my liking anyway.”
    “I’ll send in three cans.”
    “Hold up there. A case.”
    “No. You get three cans of light beer.”
    A snicker. “Fuck light beer.”
    “That’s the best I can do.”
    Frances and Budd were plastered against the window, watching Shannon.
    Handy’s voice sang, “This little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed home . . . .” Moving the gun from one of the girl’s ears to the other.
    Stillwell came on the air to ask what he should tell the snipers.
    Potter hesitated. “No fire,” he said. “Whatever happens.”
    “Copy,” Stillwell said.
    They heard the whimper of the girl as Handy pressed the gun against her forehead.
    “I’ll give you a six-pack,” Potter said, “if you let me have that girl.”
    Budd whispered, “Don’t push it.”
    A pause. “Give me a reason why I’d want to do that.”
    LeBow dropped the cursor to a paragraph in the evolving Biography of Louis Handy. Potter read, then said, “ ’Cause you love beer.”
    Handy had been reprimanded by one of his wardens for whipping up some home brew in prison. Later, his privileges were suspended after he’d smuggled in two cases of Budweiser.
    “Come on,” Potter chided, “what can it hurt? You’ll have plenty of hostages left over.” Potter took the chance. “Besides, she’s a little pain in the ass, isn’t she? That’s her reputation at school.”
    Angie’s eyes sprang open. It’s a risk to refer to the hostages in any way because it gives them more value to the taker than they already have. You never suggest that they have some liability that might irritate or endanger him.
    A pause.
    Now, set the hook.
    The agent said, “What’s your favorite brand? Miller? Bud?”
    “Mexican.”
    “You got it, Lou. A six-pack of Corona, you let that girl go and we get another hour for the chopper. Everybody’s happy.”
    “I’d rather shoot her.”
    Potter and LeBow glanced at each other. Budd was suddenly standing close to Potter, his hands in his pocket, fidgeting.
    The negotiator ignored the young captain and said to Handy, “Okay, Lou, then shoot her. I’m tired of this bullshit.”
    From the corner of his eye he saw Budd shift and for a moment Potter tensed, thinking the captain was going to leap forward, grab the phone, and agree to whatever Handy wanted. But he just kept his hands in his back pockets and turned away. Frances gazed at the negotiator in utter shock.
    Potter hit buttons on the phone. “Dean, he may shoot the girl. If he does, make sure nobody returns fire.”
    A hesitation. “Yessir.”
    Potter was back on the line with Handy. The man hadn’t hung up but he wasn’t talking either. Shannon’s head swiveled back and forth. The black rectangular pistol was still visible.
    Potter jumped inches when Handy’s staccato laugh shot into the van. “This’s sorta like Monopoly, ain’t it? Buying and selling and all?”
    Potter struggled to remain silent.
    Handy growled, “Two six-packs or I do it right now.” Shannon’s head bent