by Mark Romang
“She’s fine. We’ve even made up.”
“Tell me about Officer Barrett. What was your conversation about?”
“I don’t like cops, Roy.”
“But you used to be a cop. Once you’re a policeman you’re part of a brotherhood, Jon.”
“I know. But I thought Officer Barrett saw Colette lying on the floor with the arrow sticking out of her arm. I was afraid to let him go.”
“I have to be up front and honest with you, Jon. There is a SWAT team out here that’s just itching to break down the door. But sometimes I can convince them to stand down. But you need to first do me a favor, Jon, for that to happen.”
Arcadias stopped pacing. He leaned against the foyer wall, against King Saul. “I’m listening.”
“Release the hostages. You’ll buy yourself some time. And I’ll be able to talk with you some more.”
Arcadias glanced back toward the parlor. Time was running out on him. “I would be willing to release two of them. But a condition has to be met first.”
“I can’t guarantee your condition will be met, but if it’s reasonable, why not? In fact, I encourage you to come up with a list of demands.”
“I want all law enforcement, along with their cars, to move to the end of the driveway near the road. And move the portable light towers back too.”
“Emergency vehicles have to have access, Jon. We can’t block the drive.”
“Then leave a space for them to get through. If you want me to release hostages, then back everyone up. And I don’t want any law enforcement behind the house either. Everyone must be in the front near the road where I can see them.”
“I’ll talk it over with the sheriff, Jon. I don’t have much authority.”
Arcadias grinned. His hands no longer shook. His voice no longer quavered. “As soon as I see everyone backed up I’ll let Colette and the old man go. Goodbye, Roy. It’s been nice talking to you,” he said, and hung up.
Arcadias reentered the parlor. He looked at Ned Hoxley. The old man slumped in his chair, but his dark eyes still flashed with life. “I’m going to release you, Ned, you and Colette.”
Ned shook his head defiantly. “Let Annie take my place. I want to stay here and see you get your comeuppance. One of those SWAT boys is going to come in here and put a bullet in your pea-sized brain.”
Arcadias grinned smugly. “They won’t shoot me. They’ll shoot Jon. They think he’s the hostage taker.”
Ned burst out laughing. Belly laughs shook his skinny frame. “Oh, that’s rich, Arcadias. Do you really think that? You’re the one holding a gun. And Jon here, he’s all tied up to the sofa. I think those SWAT boys are going to know exactly who to aim their guns at.”
“Ned is right, Arcadias. It didn’t do you any good to hide your identity. If you want to ensure your safety, lay down your gun and trade places with me,” Rafter said gently.
Arcadias glared at Rafter. “You are staying right where you’re at, Jon. I’ll take my chances with the SWAT team.”
Chapter 43
With several sets of eyes locked onto him, Roy Nixon killed the connection on his negotiating phone. He turned and looked at Sheriff Tubbs and Lieutenant Kyle Brock—his commanding officer. “You were right, Sheriff, this is a domestic violence case that has taken a bizarre turn. Jon Rafter is the hostage taker, and Josiah Barrett isn’t the only victim.
“One of the guests tried to stop the violence between Jon and Annie. Rafter didn’t like the interference and shot the guest—a woman by the name of Colette—with a longbow. When officer Barrett came by, Rafter was afraid Barrett would see the wounded Colette. So he shot and killed Barrett.”
“Those were his words exactly?” Newton Laskey asked, incredulous that Jon Rafter possessed such a murderous bent.
Nixon nodded. “I may be paraphrasing a bit, but that’s pretty much it.”
Lieutenant Brock asked the next question. “How would you assess Jon Rafter’s current mental state?”
“He’s calm, but still dangerous. However, I think I can work with him. Rafter is willing to release two hostages on the condition we all back up to the end of the driveway. He also wants our vehicles and light towers moved back. And he doesn’t want any officers behind the house. When he sees that we’ve all moved back, he’ll release the injured woman and Ned Hoxley, the old man.”
Sheriff Tubbs turned to Lieutenant Brock. “What do you think, Lieutenant? Can we trust Jon Rafter? Should we deal with him?”
“My men are raring to go, but if we can free the hostages without raiding the house, I’m all for that. But before we all move back, I need visual intelligence. I have to get a camera inside the house. I want to get a feel for the interior layout. If we have to go in, I don’t want my men going in blind.”
“But Kyle, if Rafter discovers the camera scope under a door, he most likely will renege on releasing any hostages,” Nixon said gently, still in his negotiating mode.
Newton Laskey stepped forward. He couldn’t hold his frustration in any longer. “Sheriff, my men have discovered evidence you should probably consider,” he said firmly.
Sheriff Tubbs’s eyes rolled under hooded lids. “What have you got, Newton?”
“My men performed some social media research and found something interesting that puts in doubt what may have happened here. Arcadias and Josiah Barrett are Facebook friends. Both Charbonneau brothers attended the same high school as Barrett. And Arcadias and Josiah graduated the same year.”
“A strange coincidence, but probably nothing more than that,” Tubbs drawled.
“I don’t think so, Sheriff. The fact that Officer Barrett knew the Charbonneaus might explain why he turned his back. He trusted the Charbonneaus.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense, Newton. The Charbonneaus are paying guests here. Why would they shoot an old high school buddy?”
Laskey shook his head. “I don’t know, Sheriff. But it makes me think there is some kind of criminal operation going on here. What sort of crime I don’t know.” Laskey paused as he tried to connect the dots. “Maybe Barrett knew about tonight all along. Perhaps he was just supposed to look the other way. But then he got the call about a missing old man that may have wandered up here. And when he answered the call, Barrett got into a heated discussion with one of the Charbonneaus, and that led to his death.”
“You have to admit, that’s quite a stretch, Newton,” Tubbs said.
Laskey nodded. “But it’s also a stretch that Jon Rafter would shoot a cop. He’s the most virtuous man I know.”
“We talked about this before, Newton. Rafter is capable of violence. His recent past is proof.”
“But only when violence is warranted.” Laskey turned his attention away from Sheriff Tubbs and to Roy Nixon. “When you talked to the person inside did you notice any kind of accent?”
Nixon shook his head. “No, I didn’t, but I concentrated more on assessing his emotional state than listening to his inflection and enunciation.”
“Rafter is originally from New York. He has an east coast accent. It’s slight but it’s there. If you’ll allow me to talk to the hostage taker the next time you have him on the phone, I’m confident I can tell whether it’s really Jon Rafter.”
Nixon shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr. Laskey. I’ve already established a rapport with him.”
“I understand and agree. But what if I give you a list of questions to ask, questions only the true Jon Rafter could answer. Would you ask them for me?”
“Sure, I don’t see why I couldn’t mix them into the conversation,” Nixon said.
Laskey turned to Lieutenant Brock. “The hostage taker will be distracted when Roy is talking to him. You might want to slip your cameras under the doors then.”
Brock nodded. “I thought the same thing just now. I’ll tell my men.”
“Hold up, Kyle,” Nixon said. “We have to make a show of backing up first. And you don’t want to put your cameras under the door when the hosta
ges are coming out. Let’s allow the release to happen first.”
“Okay, Roy. We’ll give you some more time to do your magic.”
Lester Tubbs put two fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly. Everyone outside the house turned to face him. Tubbs motioned all law enforcement personnel to come in. When they all were within earshot he spoke. “I want every car and light tower moved back near the road. We’re going to operate from there now. This may be only temporary. But for now we’re going to move back. So let’s get this done ASAP.”
Chapter 44
Josiah Barrett and his mother sat in stone chairs on a patio. Unspoiled nature surrounded them on all sides. The greatest national park on planet earth paled in comparison.
Barrett couldn’t stop smiling as he took in his sprawling backyard. Mammoth trees grew straight and true up from verdant, weed-free grass. The trees soared into the sky and provided ample shade. Heavenly light beamed through the leaf canopy and splashed everything in a golden hue.
Barrett’s gaze followed the property lines. The trees eventually opened up into a meadow supporting a small vineyard. He realized then that he possessed incredible vision. The vineyard stood at least two-hundred yards away, yet he could see the vines hung heavy with grapes. A crystalline brook, complete with a waterfall intersected the back edge of his property. Overhead, songbirds whistled happy songs to the Creator. Barrett felt like breaking into song along with the birds.
“How do you like your place, Josiah?”
Barrett turned and looked back at his home, a house hewn from what looked to him like jasper and quartz. The house was an architectural marvel—ingeniously designed and symmetrically perfect. Barrett noticed for the first time the stone walls were inlaid with precious gems, and even veins of gold. Somehow the jasper and quartz and gemstones and gold dust all melded tastefully together to form a beautiful building material.
Flowering vines covered the house on one side and helped the home blend in with the bucolic setting, complimenting it. Barrett shook his head. Arcadias is searching for treasure on earth and will probably never find it, while I’ve found treasure in heaven, even though I wasn’t looking for it. “I love the home, Mama, but I like the grounds even more. I don’t even feel like I’m living in a city. I feel like I’m way out in the country. I even have a vineyard.”
Susan Barrett smiled. “Heaven is a big, big place. There’s plenty of room for everyone,” she said, and grabbed an apple from a bowl sitting on a table. “I see the welcoming committee has been here. You should try these apples, Josiah. They’re not just any apples. They’re from the Garden, from the Tree of Life.”
Barrett took an apple and bit into it. The fruit tasted better than any fruit he’d ever eaten. “It’s luscious, and satisfying.”
Susan Barrett nodded knowingly. She pointed to the brook. “And you can drink from the brook. The water originates from atop the holy mountain. It’s living water.”
Barrett paused from eating the apple. He looked at his mother. “Where is Pop? I haven’t seen him.”
“He’s not here, son. He never accepted the Gift. Your father never wanted anything to do with God. He rejected Jesus—the only sin that can’t be forgiven.”
Barrett shook his head. “Pop was a good man. He was honest and hardworking. He never complained. He did volunteer work and helped strangers in need. He was everything I wasn’t.”
Susan Barrett touched her son’s knee. “But all his good works didn’t allow Xavier entrance into heaven. But you, my precious son, recognized your need for forgiveness and believed Jesus would save you. And he did.”
“I waited so long to ask Him to forgive me, almost too long.”
“But when it counted the most you stepped into the Light. And now you are here with me. I couldn’t be happier.”
“Mama, can you see the people down on Earth?”
“Of course I can. All saints can. But why concern ourselves with a dying planet? This is our home now. Earth holds nothing for us now.”
“Can you show me how to do it, how to look at those below?”
“Why do you want to look back at Earth? That planet is going to eventually melt away along with the heavens. After the fire burns it up, God will renew Earth back to its original state.”
“I want to see if Jon and Annie Rafter and Ned Hoxley are okay. It’s my entire fault their lives are in danger. I knew what Arcadias and Damien were planning to do. I had the power to stop it from happening. But I did nothing.”
“I never did approve of the Charbonneau boys. I feared they would lead you down a wrong path, a journey you didn’t have to take. But I wouldn’t say you did nothing in your mortal life. You went from villain to hero there at the end, Josiah.”
“Too little too late, I should’ve done more.”
Susan Barrett took his hand. “We all could’ve done more to love our fellow man. But we didn’t. So the best thing we can do now is pray. Jon and Annie and Ned Hoxley are Christ followers. We should lift them up in prayer and ask our Father to move his angels into position. Every believer has their own guardian angel.”
Barrett squeezed his mother’s hand. “You start, Mama, and I’ll finish.”
Chapter 45
Arcadias still held the cordless phone in his hand. And when it rang he nearly jumped out of his skin. He looked at the caller ID number on the screen even though he already knew it would be Roy Nixon, the hostage negotiator outside.
Arcadias hit the talk button and walked to a window in the parlor. He pulled the drapery back an inch and peeked out. He dare not move back any more drapery than that. Rafter had warned him about snipers positioned in hidden places, expert marksmen who wouldn’t miss their target.
They’re actually doing what I asked, Arcadias thought. Most of the squad cars had moved to the end of the long driveway. And the rest were heading in that direction, as were the deputies. He could see the lawmen walking toward the road. “Hello?”
“Your first demand has almost been met, Jon. Now you need to send out the hostages like you promised.”
“You sound surly, Roy.”
“I’m sticking my neck out for you, Jon, and I’m taking some heat. The SWAT team out here wants to raid the house. And they have legal authority. They have search and arrest warrants. But I convinced them to give me more time. I told them you were calm, and that I thought I could work with you. So live up to your promise, Jon, and I’ll get you some more time.”
“I will release Colette and Ned Hoxley within the next ten minutes. You needn’t worry, Roy.”
“If you want to assure your own safety, I think you should release them within the next five minutes.”
“Okay, but I have one more demand before I do so.” Arcadias could hear the negotiator sighing through the phone.”
“What is it?”
“I want the electricity to the house to stay on.”
“That’s a reasonable demand. I’ll pass it along. But we need to work on your surrender now. The sooner you surrender the quicker you can get your life back.”
Arcadias laughed bitterly. “I will never get my life back. We both know that.”
“You will likely do jail time, Jon. But if you behave yourself you can make parole.”
“I killed a cop, Roy. The lawyer in here says I’ll be charged with capital murder and get the death penalty if convicted.”
“Jon, I need you to calm down. Take a deep breath. The lawyer is only trying to scare you. I can almost guarantee you that if you release the hostages and surrender peaceably, and cooperate with us to the fullest extent and tell us everything that happened tonight, you’ll not receive a lethal injection.”
Arcadias mulled over Nixon’s words. For a short moment he considered laying down his Glock and giving up. But the moment was brief…very brief. “I’ll think about it,” he lied.
“That’s great, Jon. Gabriel Schofield would want you to do that. He cares a great deal for you. He’s worried sick now that he knows what’s ha
ppened to you.”
Gabriel Schofield? I wonder who that is. Arcadias scrabbled for an answer. He suspected Nixon dangled the name as bait, hoping he’d bite.
“You remember Gabriel, don’t you? He was your captain in Brooklyn, in the 16th precinct. He’s retired now, but I understand he was a hardnosed police captain, an ex-Army Ranger.”
“Of course I remember Gabriel. How could I not? He’s unforgettable.”
“Gabriel says you’re like a son to him. He wants you to give yourself up so you don’t get hurt,” Nixon said.
“I’ve disappointed Gabriel, I know. But he’s in my past, and I can’t go back.”
“Think about your parents, Jon, and the pain they’re going through now. You can put an end to their worries by simply giving yourself up. It’s what they want.”
“I’ll give it serious thought, Roy. Tell my parents I’m sorry. I have to go now.”
“Okay, we’ve talked for three minutes, Jon. That leaves you seven minutes to release the two hostages. I expect you to honor your word.”
“You’ll see the front door open in seven minutes, I promise. Goodbye, Roy.”
Chapter 46
Roy Nixon killed the phone connection. He turned and looked at Newton Laskey. “I think you may be right, Mr. Laskey. Someone is only pretending to be Jon Rafter.”
Sheriff Tubbs spat on the ground. “What gives you that impression, Roy?”
“The hostage taker drew a blank when I mentioned Gabriel Schofield. He recovered quickly, but never corrected me when I gave false information about Schofield. I said Schofield was his captain in Brooklyn’s 16th precinct. But Jon Rafter was a policeman in Manhattan’s 17th precinct. I also said Schofield was an ex-Army Ranger. That wasn’t true either. Schofield was a Navy SEAL. The true Jon Rafter would’ve known I had it wrong.”
“Maybe he chose to say nothing,” Tubbs suggested. “Maybe Rafter didn’t care you had it wrong.”
