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“For Tommy’s sake.” Lucy took a step closer, and Niall inhaled the scents of baby powder and something slightly more exotic that didn’t have anything to do with the infant she was pushing into his arms.
“Since I’ve convinced you that we’re on the same side now, would you feel comfortable watching him for about ten minutes? That’s all the time I’ll need to freshen up and change so we’re ready to go.”
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“I’ve got no shot,” Duff yelled, pushing to a crouching position as the shooter dropped his spent rifle and pulled his pistol. Niall heard Keir’s succinct voice reporting to dispatch. With a nod from Katie that she was all right and assurance that her husband was circling around the outside aisle to get to her, Niall climbed to his knees to assess the casualties. He caught a glimpse of Duff and a couple of other officers zigzagging down the aisle through the next hail of bullets and charging out the back of the sanctuary. “Get down and stay put!”
Niall squeezed his father’s arm. He was okay. He glanced back at the minister crouched behind the pulpit. He hadn’t been hit, either. The man in the balcony shouted no manifesto, made no threat. He emptied his gun into the sanctuary, grabbed his rifle and scrambled up the stairs toward the balcony exit. He was making a lot of noise and doing a lot of damage and generating a lot of terror. But despite the chaos, he wasn’t hitting anyone. What kind of maniac set off this degree of panic without having a specific—
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