Concrete Evidence

by Rachel Grant

  A young African-American girl in a pretty sundress decorated with embroidered daisies sat with her mother facing Erica. The girl made faces at her reflection in the window as the train sped through the dark tunnel, and Erica watched her play, wondering if this would ever blow over.

  She couldn’t imagine a time when this would just be an event from her past. Over and done with. Would she ever again be just another anonymous rider on the Metro? Could she someday take a daughter or a son to visit the White House or one of the Smithsonian museums? She couldn’t imagine how she’d get through today, let alone believe she had a future.

  The train stopped, and a man boarded. Holding a newspaper in front of his face, he made his way down the empty aisle and chose a seat that blocked her view of the girl. She dropped her gaze to her own paper and studied the picture of Lee and herself, heartache welling up again.

  “How old is your daughter?” she heard the man say, and she looked up sharply. “She sure is pretty.” That voice had haunted her nightmares. Marco.

  “Six,” the mother said, and Erica gave the woman credit for her wary tone.

  “You in first grade, bonita chica?” Marco said. His eyes flicked in Erica’s direction, and fear surged through her.

  The girl looked in confusion from her mother to Marco. The mother gave her daughter a protective squeeze. “I’ve taught my daughter not to talk to strangers. I’m sure you understand.”

  “Good call. She could talk to some psycho who’ll slit her pretty little throat.”

  The woman jumped up, grabbed her daughter, and tried to pull her into the aisle, away from Marco, but he moved quickly and blocked their escape. He looked directly at Erica and spoke in Spanish. “You hit the button, the little girl gets hurt.”

  She dropped her hand from the emergency call button and said, “Leave them alone.”

  “Cooperate and I won’t hurt them.” He spoke English now.

  “What do you want?”

  Marco’s smile gave her the creeps. It always had. “You fucked things up in Mexico, and you’ve fucked them up here. Now it’s time for you to disappear.” Without warning, he lunged and grabbed the girl by the throat. The mother screamed.

  Two of the other passengers—a man sitting alone reading a newspaper at the opposite end of the car and a woman in a middle row—looked to see what was going on.

  “Nobody move,” Marco said, “or I hurt the girl.”

  A black teenage boy wearing headphones and sitting with his back to the unfolding drama moved his head in time to music only he could hear. Marco must have decided the boy wasn’t a threat, because he turned to the girl and caressed her chin. “¿Cómo te llamas, chica?”

  The girl’s eyes were wide with fear.

  “What’s your name?” He was angry now; his fingers tightened on her chin.

  The girl’s mouth opened, but she made no sound.

  “Daisy,” the mother said. “Her name is Daisy.”

  The train operator announced the next stop.

  “Stand and grab the upper railing,” Marco announced. “No one gets off, or Daisy dies.”

  The mother let out a sob.

  Erica slipped her arm through her tote strap and gripped the overhead handrail. The man, woman, and Daisy’s mother did the same. The teenager continued to keep time with the music. Marco tightened his grip on the girl and dragged her down the aisle until he could reach the teen. He lashed out with one arm, whacking the young man on the back of the head.

  “Hold the rail so I can see your hands!” He pulled a gun and aimed it at the boy.

  The teenager’s eyes widened. He pulled his headphones off and said, “What the fuck, man?” But he stood and grabbed the overhead railing like everyone else, convincing her he’d heard every word Marco had said. “This is AU. My stop. I wanna get off.”

  “No one gets off here. Hold the rail and do as I say.” Marco slipped his gun back into his pocket. He pulled Daisy onto his lap and sat down. Daisy’s mother held the rail while silent tears trailed down her cheeks.

  The train stopped. Nobody moved. Nobody said a word.

  Jake Novak stepped into the car.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  LEE RAN TO THE WINDOW and scanned the street below. Erica was gone. “Where is she?”

  Agents Pratt and Silver both talked softly into their headsets.

  “Where is she, dammit?”

  “She’s entering the Metro station,” Pratt finally answered.

  “Call it off. There’s no reason to use her as bait!”

  “She was on the boat Sunday morning. She can identify Marco, place him on the boat, and testify he fled with Novak.”

  He was frantic. His claim he hadn’t recognized the scuba diver wouldn’t protect her anymore. “But she never admitted to being on the boat. She lied, so her testimony won’t be worth shit. Call it off. Take her into protective custody.”

  Pratt’s eyes narrowed. “I knew you lied to protect her. This is our one chance to nail a key member of the Delgado family. I’m not screwing it up now.”

  Lee took a swing at the agent, but JT caught him and pulled him back before his fist connected. “That won’t help Erica.”

  “Let me go after her.” He started for the door, but Agent Silver blocked his way.

  “Don’t be stupid. Delgado won’t go near her if you’re there,” she said.

  Pratt held up a hand, indicating he was getting information from his headset. “She’s on a train. Damn. The agent following her hung back too far, and Kesling ran for the train.”

  Lee felt sick. “The agent missed the train.”

  Agent Silver’s eyes were devoid of expression. “Yes.”

  He wanted to break something. “She’s on her own.”

  “She’ll be okay,” Silver said. “We know where she is and can get an agent on board down the line. As long as she’s not approached while she’s on the train, we’ve got her covered.”

  Agent Pratt continued listening, his eyes suddenly flashed with alarm. “Another agent got a visual on Marco Delgado. In Bethesda, he boarded a different car in the same train as Ms. Kesling. At the next stop, he stepped onto the platform then boarded the car Kesling is in.”

  ERICA HANDS WERE SLICK and sweaty on the overhead rail. Jake approached her. She gripped the bar tighter until her knuckles ached. He stopped only inches in front of her and stood with his back to the rest of the passengers. He spoke in a low voice that wouldn’t carry beyond her ears. “You stupid girl. You just had to take pictures, didn’t you? You may as well have put a gun to your head. You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

  “Siccing Marco on a little girl is vile.” Her voice shook with fear and anger.

  “I didn’t,” he whispered. “He’s done listening to me. He’s a sadistic bastard who feeds on fear, and right now he wants to hurt you.” Jake caressed her cheek. “I warned you. I tried to protect you, but you had to fuck it up by looking for the artifacts.”

  “Protection. Right. You trashed my apartment and tried to kill me in the Thermo-Con house.”

  Jake shook his head. “That wasn’t me. I protected you on the Andvari because it was my fault you were there in the first place. But the situation got out of my control the moment Marco saw you with Tommy Riversong.” He glanced at Marco, then back at her. “Sorry, but I’ve got to make this look good.” Jake raised a hand and slapped her across the cheek.

  Her head snapped back and she tasted blood, but she didn’t lose her grip on the overhead rail. She remained on her feet. Barely.

  “Again,” Marco said.

  Jake’s blow was harder the second time. Her fingers slipped from the bar, and she fell backward, into the rear door of the car. Her ears rang as she slid down the panel.

  Jake loomed over her. “He’s the boss, Erica. He’s always been the boss.” He crouched down, bringing his face level with hers.

  She pressed the back of her hand to her throbbing mouth and asked, “Why?”

  His voice
was low. For Marco and the other passengers, his words would be lost to the motion of the train. “The DEA was closing in. I needed an archaeologist and a permit, so I hired you. In the end, Marco agreed to let you go because the DEA would pounce if you went missing. But then he saw you with Tommy and figured you’d zeroed in on him because the fool had blabbed about his involvement with our organization. He killed Tommy to shut him up.”

  “Jake!” Marco barked. “Grab the bitch and let’s go.”

  Jake yanked her arm, pulling her to her feet. She struggled to break his hold; then she saw Marco stroke Daisy’s cheek. “Don’t fight Jake.”

  She wanted to puke. “Let Daisy go. I’ll cooperate.”

  “We don’t trust you, Cream Puff.” Jake took her cell phone from her bag and shoved it in his pocket; then he pushed Erica toward the exit nearest where Marco sat with Daisy on his lap.

  Marco wrapped one of the girl’s many braids around his fingers, much as he’d done to Erica a year ago. He held Erica’s gaze as he twisted the dark strands tighter and tighter. “You will do everything I say.”

  The train operator announced the next station. She felt Jake’s gun press into her spine.

  “This is our stop,” Jake said.

  She wondered if others on the train saw the gun and knew she was being coerced. They must have seen Jake hit her, but that didn’t prove she wasn’t an accomplice. She hoped someone would tell Lee, and he’d understand she was innocent. She didn’t want to die with him believing she was guilty.

  Jake pushed her toward the doorway.

  “You’re getting off?” the teenaged boy asked. “I want to get off at Vann Ness too. You already made me miss my stop.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Marco said. “The girl and Erica get off with us. The rest of you stay on the train. Anyone talks, anyone comes after us, and Daisy is one dead chica.”

  Erica caught the teenager’s intense gaze. He wanted her to know something. His lips moved, almost imperceptibly. She realized he was whispering. Talking to himself?

  Understanding dawned. She saw exactly what she’d failed to notice in Lee: the boy wasn’t as young as he appeared. He had to be FBI.

  He’d twice said the name of the station as the train neared a platform. Was he broadcasting the information to other agents?

  Marco stood with Daisy in his arms and waited for the door to open.

  “You don’t need the girl. I’ll do whatever you want if you leave Daisy here,” Erica said.

  “She stays with us,” Marco said.

  No matter what awaited them in the station, her life was forfeit. Marco intended to kill her, she had no doubt about that. If it wasn’t for Daisy, she’d make a stand here, now. But she couldn’t risk the girl’s life. She looked in the mother’s eyes. “I’ll protect her,” she said. “I promise.”

  “Don’t hurt my baby!” the woman wailed.

  The doors slid open, and Jake pushed her onto the platform. Seeing it was empty, she wondered if the FBI had enough time to clear the station. She glanced over her shoulder. The doors of the train slid shut. Through the window, she saw the black man with the headphones run to Daisy’s hysterical mother. He spoke urgently into his collar as the train pulled into the dark mouth of the tunnel.

  Jake, Marco, Daisy, and Erica were alone in the cavernous train station.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  “AN AGENT WAS POSITIONED at Medical Center station,” Pratt said. “As soon as he heard Kesling was moving toward the Bethesda station, he took a chance and caught the next train. He was in the end car, and we caught a lucky break—Kesling jumped in the last car—the same one the agent was already on. When Delgado switched cars and made contact, the agent couldn’t radio without blowing cover, so he opened his mic.”

  Lee was at the keyboard, frantically trying to hack into the Metro security-camera system. “Is Erica okay?” he asked.

  “Delgado and Novak took a girl hostage and are using the girl to control Kesling.” He held up a hand as he received more information. “They’re getting off at Van Ness.”

  His fingers flew over the keyboard. In seconds, he opened the Van Ness camera feed.

  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see you do this, Scott.”

  He ignored the agent and watched as a train pulled into the station. Only the doors on the rear car opened, telling him the FBI was in contact with the train operator. Three people stepped onto the platform, one of them carrying a small girl.

  “He’s got a gun to her back,” he said, pointing to the grainy scene as Novak pushed Erica toward the escalator.

  “The agent on board said both men have guns.”

  The escalator was broken. Sweat broke out on Lee’s brow as he watched the foursome slowly climb the stairs. They paused, and Jake pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to Erica. A phone? They spoke for a moment; then she held the item to her ear.

  His stomach dropped when his cell suddenly rang.

  DAISY CRIED FOR HER MOTHER, and Marco shook her. “Shut up.”

  Erica reached for her. “Please, let me carry Daisy.”

  “No,” Jake said, pressing the gun into her spine. “Get moving.”

  She approached the escalator to the mezzanine level, which was broken and wondered if it had been shut down to slow their progress out of the station. Was the FBI on the next level?

  Jake held out her cell phone. “Call your boyfriend. Tell him to meet you at the DuPont Circle Starbucks in twenty minutes with cash and a car.”

  “He won’t do it. He thinks I’m working for you.”

  “He’ll do it.”

  “How are we going to get to DuPont Circle in twenty minutes?”

  “Call.”

  She dialed while Jake prodded her up the stairs. If the mezzanine was also empty, Marco would realize the station had been evacuated because the FBI knew they had taken Daisy hostage.

  “Erica?” Lee said, his voice an urgent plea.

  She stopped and closed her eyes, the sound of his voice ripping through her. “Lee.”

  “Move,” Jake said.

  She didn’t dare take another step. She was terrified of what Marco would do when he discovered the next level was empty. “I’m innocent,” she said into the phone.

  “I know,” Lee said. “I’ve always known. Listen, the FBI has snipers at the top of the street-level escalators. If you can, get yourself and the girl out of the way.”

  How did he know what was going on?

  Jake reached for the phone, “Put it on speaker.”

  She jerked away from him and said into the phone, “I love y—”

  Marco ripped the phone from her hands and spoke to Lee. “We need a car, and we need money. Meet us in front of the DuPont Circle Starbucks in twenty minutes. For every minute you’re late, Erica loses a finger. Tell anyone and she’s dead.” He closed the phone and threw it onto the empty train tracks below. “That should keep him and the FBI busy. Stupid fucks.”

  “We aren’t going to DuPont Circle?” Erica asked, stalling.

  Jake shoved her up the stairs. “Hell no.” The station was eerily quiet. The mezzanine level was empty and all the faregates open.

  “What the fuck?” Marco said, looking around. “Where is everyone?”

  Jake grabbed her hair and pulled her head backward. Her scalp burned with pain. “How the fuck did you do it?” He ripped open her shirt, then twisted her arm behind her back. “Are you wearing a wire?”

  “No.” She couldn’t help it, she whimpered in pain.

  Daisy began to scream, her yells echoing in the vast empty space.

  “You stupid fuckwit,” Marco snarled at Jake. “She set us up.”

  “How did they know to evacuate the station?” Jake asked as he twisted the bun at the nape of her neck and tightened his grip on her arm, ratcheting up the pain by slow, intense degrees.

  She sucked a breath and managed to say, “The kid with the headphones. On the train. I think he’s FBI.”

 
; He threw her down.

  She hit her chin on the floor and tasted more blood.

  “The punk must’ve already been on the train when she boarded,” Jake said.

  “Fuck. We’re trapped down here.”

  Jake and Marco couldn’t see her hands as she climbed on all fours to get up. She pulled the heart-shaped rock from her bag and held it in her palm so it wouldn’t be obvious to either man. Her middle finger fit within the V of the heart, giving her a firm grip on the smooth stone.

  Jake yanked her to her feet, then pulled her back against his chest. Pressing the gun to her temple, he bit her earlobe.

  She took shallow breaths as they inched toward the long escalator to street level. They passed through the open faregates and reached the bank of escalators, all of which were stopped.

  A voice came over the public-address system: “Jake Novak, Marco Delgado, Erica Kesling, release the girl and climb the escalator with your hands up. Every exit is blocked, and armed agents are in the tunnels.”

  Jake tightened his grip around her waist. “They think you’re one of us, Cream Puff. Your only hope now is to flee with Marco and me to Mexico.”

  She jerked away from him. “No!”

  He slapped her across the cheek so hard she spun in a circle and nearly dropped the rock.

  Marco tucked his gun in his waistband and held Daisy against his chest in a two-handed grip. “We’ll go up single file, the chica in the lead.”

  The bastard intended to use Daisy as a shield.

  Jake took his position behind her. He groped her breasts, then ran the barrel of the gun across her temple. He slipped the weapon into her mouth. “This is what I wanted to do to you when I realized you were screwing Scott. I saved your life in Mexico, but you fucked him.”

  The gun tasted like blood and fear, and a strange acceptance settled over her. The nightmare was over. Her breathing slowed, evened out. She closed her eyes and waited for Jake to squeeze the trigger.

  She hoped Lee had heard her say she loved him, and wished she’d said the words more—to him, to her mother. Had she ever told her mother she loved her? Needed her? Or had she locked that part of her away when her father died? Another regret. One among thousands.