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The Negotiation

Page 5

by Tyler Anne Snell


  “So what you’re saying is that you stepping out of your office to do guard duty isn’t on your normal roster of daily activities?”

  Dane had to look over again. If only because of the humor he heard in her response. She was no longer distant. Dane was surprised. He thought talking about their pasts at any length would bring out the flash of anger he’d already seen several times in the past twenty-four hours.

  “No, it’s not something I typically do,” he admitted. “I guess I just needed to hit my abnormal quota before the year ran out.”

  Rachel snorted.

  Silence followed. It settled in the cab of the truck like pollen to the ground on a summer day. Dane kept his gaze forward as he navigated an older neighborhood. Darby wasn’t the smallest town in the county, but it wasn’t the largest, either. This was one of the three neighborhood clusters within the town limits. It was also the oldest. All the strings of houses they passed revealed their age. Almost all of them showed disrepair, while some showed signs of renovation. It was also typically a neighborhood that housed a mostly older generation of residents. Not a popular children’s or young family’s neighborhood, if Dane wasn’t mistaken.

  “Does Lonnie live with his grandparents?” Dane asked. “I wasn’t there when he was picked up and can’t remember if I ever knew what his relation was to his guardian other than that his parents are gone.”

  “I don’t know much about their family life, but I know he lives with his uncle, Tucker. His parents passed away when he was a toddler.” Rachel’s voice held a whopping dose of concern as she continued. “If you believe the gossip at school, his uncle views him more as an obligation than family.”

  He could tell Rachel didn’t like what she was saying.

  Dane didn’t, either.

  He kept quiet, though, and turned onto Amber Street. Henry’s car was parked curbside in front of the house. Dane pulled up behind it and cut the engine. He didn’t get out right away.

  “I probably should have mentioned this before, but Henry’s wife, Cassie, the one with the flu?” he started. “She’s the one who took you back to the school yesterday.”

  Rachel sighed.

  “That’s just what I need on top of everything else,” she muttered. “The flu.”

  Dane tried on another apologetic look and went out to talk to Henry. Deputy Ward was one of the newest additions to the department but, Dane had to admit, one of his favorite people to work with. Not only did he make Cassie, a friend and coworker happy, but he was a nice guy with a good sense of humor. Especially when it came to being a husband and a father.

  “Sorry again, Dane,” he said through his rolled-down window. “Cassie’s sister is out of town...with my brother.” He gave Dane an exasperated look. “The first time they decide to go on some romantic getaway together and my house breaks out with, as my lovely wife put it, ‘exorcist-style vomiting.’” He ran a hand down his face. “If there was anyone else to help out, I’d call them in, but—”

  Dane cut the man off with a wave. “Don’t worry about it. Deputy Medina said she was more than happy to switch.” Henry’s eyebrow rose. Dane cracked a grin. “She got tricked into helping with courtroom duty, and we both know how much she hates being in there. For her this is an ideal way to spend the day.”

  “Glad I’m not putting her out, then.” Henry motioned to the house. “As for why I’m here, no one has showed up or left the house since I followed them here last night. In fact, you’re the only movement I’ve seen all night and morning. Anything interesting happen at your place?”

  “No, just the same.”

  Henry’s phone buzzed in his cup holder. Dane spied his wife’s name on the Caller ID. He laughed and tapped the top of the car twice.

  “Go ahead and get out of here,” he said. “We can handle it.”

  Henry nodded and was gone by the time Dane walked back to his truck. Rachel was standing next to it, a smile on her face and a container of cookies in her hand. When she looked at him, Dane felt like he was putting his feet back into that ice-cold water.

  This time, though, it was different.

  Soft blue eyes that had a life of their own met his.

  For a moment they tricked him into believing that nothing had changed between them. That they were still close friends. That he hadn’t dropped out of her life on purpose for years. That he hadn’t been the reason her husband had been killed.

  That, even if he tried to deny it, there wasn’t something inside him that seemed to open up when around her.

  But just like that, Dane remembered everything.

  He remembered finding his best friend’s body.

  He remembered feeling Rachel quake in anguish against him after he’d told her the news.

  He remembered the guilt that took root in his soul and had only grown through the years.

  And most of all, Dane remembered Rachel wearing a yellow sundress, trying to change a tire a year after the funeral.

  She hadn’t seen him, but he’d seen her.

  That was when he’d known he needed to keep the distance between them.

  No matter what.

  “Ready?”

  Dane nodded and, despite his resolve, he followed.

  Chapter Six

  The two-story house was a mixture of dark and faded wood with a missing porch step and a patch of shingles in disrepair. The whole building seemed to be sagging, pulled downward and tired, but that might just have been an illusion from the way the entire lot sloped toward the road.

  Rachel held the container of cookies to her stomach. She felt oddly nervous.

  Traumas had a way of changing people.

  She hoped Lonnie was okay.

  “You might want to take the lead,” Dane said, falling back by her elbow. “After what happened, Tucker Hughes might be more inclined to open the door to a friendly face.”

  Rachel shored up her shoulders and knocked. She wondered, belatedly, if Lonnie and his uncle had slept in—it was barely nine in the morning—but then she heard movement in the house.

  “Someone just peeked through the blinds,” Dane said after a moment. “I’m guessing Lonnie, since it was toward the bottom.”

  A few seconds later the sound of locks turning came through. The door opened slowly but only an inch.

  “Ms. Roberts? What you doing here?”

  Lonnie’s nose peeked through the crack in the door, followed by a suspicious stare.

  Rachel shook the container in her hand.

  “I was wondering if you had a sweet tooth like me,” she hedged. Coming right out and admitting she was worried about the boy might make him defensive. She didn’t want him to shut the door in her face. “It’s the least I could do for helping me yesterday.”

  Lonnie eyed the cookies a moment before slowly opening the door the rest of the way. Rachel immediately knew two things.

  One, the boy hadn’t slept. Or, at least, hadn’t slept well. His eyes, like the house, sagged. Second, she wasn’t leaving until she talked to his uncle. For whatever reason she wanted—no, needed—to make sure he was okay. With an ache in her heart, Rachel realized it was the closest thing she’d ever felt to maternal.

  “What kind of cookies?”

  Rachel forced a smile. “Chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin. Both from scratch. My great-grandma’s secret recipe, too.”

  Dane leaned in. “And let me tell you, they’re awesome.”

  Lonnie looked between them. He seemed sold. Dane stepped forward enough to bring Lonnie’s attention back to him.

  “How about you go get your uncle?” he asked. “Then Ms. Roberts here can wow you with some of the best cookies I’ve ever had.”

  Lonnie shrugged. “He’s not here.”

  Out of her periphery Rachel saw Dane tense. She probably didn’t fare much better. When he spoke she could te
ll he was holding back.

  “He brought you home last night, though, didn’t he?”

  Lonnie looked bored, but he nodded. “Yeah, but then he said he had to leave and took off.”

  Rachel took great pains to hide her surprise. “Did he have to go to work?” Her voice was not as calm as she wanted it to be. She felt Dane’s hand press lightly on her back. “Did he say when he was coming back?”

  “Nah. He said he was going out of town and that was it.”

  Lonnie didn’t seem to notice that both adults in front of him had gone from worried to angry in the drop of a hat. At least, that was what Rachel was feeling. Anger mixed with a hefty amount of confusion.

  “Hey, Lonnie, why don’t you take those cookies inside and we’ll come in in a minute to have some, too?” Dane said. “If that’s okay with you?”

  Lonnie shrugged again. “Whatever.”

  Rachel handed the container over and then let Dane steer her off the front porch and onto the lawn. He didn’t speak until the front door closed behind them.

  “I’m going to hunt that man down and ask him why the hell he isn’t here.” He was fuming, his voice low. He pulled out his phone. “We still have his number on file.”

  “How did he get past Deputy Ward? Didn’t he follow them home from the department last night?”

  Dane ran a hand through his hair while the other scrolled through his contacts. “Yeah, Henry followed them here.” He hit a number and gave her a severe look. “Henry has a keen eye and doesn’t slack off.” He pointed over her shoulder to the side of the house. An old truck was parked next to it. “And if I’m not mistaken, Henry told me last night that that was Tucker’s truck. So if both of those things are true—”

  “Then Tucker must have snuck off last night,” she finished. “But why?”

  Dane had straight steel in his voice when he answered. “I don’t know, but I’m sure about to find out.”

  * * *

  RACHEL TRIED TO keep an open mind as she went inside while Dane did whatever he was doing. Surely if Tucker had left Lonnie alone, there had to be a good reason. Maybe it was work-related. There had been many times when her mom had had to leave her for work when she was young, even when her mother hadn’t wanted to. It came with the territory of being a single, working parent. Not every boss was understanding and not every parent or guardian could cross a boss who didn’t understand.

  But then Rachel was in the house and her open mind started to close.

  It was a nice house. Sparse. Run-down but clean. She went through the foyer and the living space, and then into the kitchen, where she found Lonnie. Even before she saw him eating a cookie, she felt like something was off. It wasn’t until she took a cookie in her own hand that she realized what felt wrong.

  The house felt empty.

  Sure, it had furniture, but that was the end of it. There were few to no pictures in the foyer and living room and just as many knickknacks. All the small details that made a house feel like a well-lived-in home weren’t there. It just felt empty. Certainly not a place where a child lived.

  A shell of what should be a home.

  “I’m not dumb, you know,” Lonnie said around a bite of oatmeal raisin. Rachel immediately feigned innocence. Was her worry and anger that apparent?

  “I know you’re here to check up on me.”

  Rachel quirked an eyebrow but didn’t deny it.

  “You didn’t have to. I’m fine. Just like I said I was yesterday a billion times.” He took another large bite of his cookie as if to prove his point.

  Rachel leaned against the counter opposite him. She tried to look nonchalant.

  “Maybe I just wanted to hang out with someone who knows how I’m feeling,” she tried. “I mean, you said you’re fine, but maybe I’m not. Yesterday was definitely scary.”

  Lonnie’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t take the bait. “I think you just came with that cop because he had to switch with that other one that was outside all night.”

  Rachel motioned to the cookies, surprised the boy had been so observant.

  “Or maybe I couldn’t sleep last night, so I made some cookies and thought you might like some,” she countered.

  The idea seemed laughable to him that someone might have thought about him unprovoked. That was clear in the look of disbelief he gave her. It pulled at her heartstrings. She decided to tell him the truth.

  “You deserve more than a box of cookies,” she continued. “Even though I never want you to put yourself in danger like that again, yesterday you showed a whole lot of courage when you attacked that man when he had a hold of me. Not everyone would try to help in the same situation, especially if it meant they had to put themselves in harm’s way. It was selfless and brave. And I wanted to sincerely thank you for it.”

  Lonnie looked like he wanted to say something sarcastic. However he seemed to change his mind. He didn’t acknowledge what he’d done, but he didn’t lash out, either.

  “Does your arm still hurt?” He eyed the bandage at her wrist. He seemed genuinely curious. “Is it still bleeding?”

  “I don’t know, actually. Want to find out?”

  Like with most little boys, Lonnie’s intrigue tripled. He closed the gap between them to watch her unwrap the bandage. It wasn’t bleeding, but it still seemed to impress him.

  “That was cool what you did with the window,” he said after they inspected the healing cut. “I thought you were crazy when you punched it.”

  Rachel laughed.

  “You weren’t the only one.” They both turned. Dane was standing in the doorway. He had a smile on his face but it wasn’t right, just like the house. It was empty. Off. “Lonnie, could I use your bathroom?”

  He shrugged, keeping his eyes on her cut. “I don’t care,” he answered. Rachel lowered her arm so he could get a better view. It gave Dane the perfect opportunity to mouth a message at her.

  Keep him in here.

  * * *

  DANE WENT PAST the bathroom and up the stairs as quickly and quietly as he could. Then he was in the master bedroom and trying his best not to curse too loudly. Tucker Hughes had been a mystery to him before because he’d had no reason to know the man.

  Now?

  Now he wished he had done his homework on Tucker.

  Unlike the rest of the house, his room was chaotic. Like someone had ripped through it looking for something.

  Dane stepped over discarded clothes and went to the closet. It was partially open and mostly empty. With a sinking feeling he did a cursory sweep of the rest of the room. He came up empty. Nothing pointed him to any answers as to why Tucker Hughes had up and left his nephew the way he had. Nor why he had seemingly packed most of his belongings. There was no empty luggage or bags that Dane could find.

  He left the bedroom and went to the one across the hall. It was Lonnie’s bedroom and while it was a little messy, it didn’t look like Tucker had started or even attempted to pack up the boy.

  It would have made more sense to leave with Lonnie than to leave him behind.

  Though, again, neither course of action made sense.

  Dane’s cell phone went off in his hand. He hurried out of the room and back down the stairs. He nodded to Rachel as he passed the kitchen. Lonnie didn’t stop talking.

  “Captain Jones,” he answered on reflex, closing the front door behind him.

  “Cowboy Montgomery,” Chance replied with a grin in his voice. Dane rolled his eyes.

  “I’m not in the mood,” he warned. It worked to snap the man out of any follow-up jokes or sarcasm.

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  Dane paced himself right off the porch. Last time he’d talked to Chance was yesterday after Suzy had left him alone in the break room. He had wanted to tell Chance what had happened at the school. It was too much of a coincidence to have t
wo pieces from the past surface, just as Suzy had said. Not that Dane believed it wasn’t just coincidence one hundred percent. But, just in case, he’d told the man. They hadn’t talked since.

  “Just more things not adding up,” Dane replied, skirting clarification. “Why? What’s up with you?”

  “Remember that guy I was waiting to call me back about the radio equipment that was stolen? Just got off the phone with him. Apparently what was stolen is specific only to someone who’s trying to broadcast.”

  “You mean like air their own show?”

  “Yep. They already have the means. Now all they need is the know-how. Then they can get on their own frequency, depending on how much they actually know. They can say whatever they want.”

  Dane didn’t like that.

  Why would thieves need to broadcast? “And you still have no idea where these guys are?”

  “No. According to my contact in Birmingham local PD, the only lead they have is the van and Tracy Markinson. You know, the same van that could have been at the school yesterday.”

  Dane gritted his teeth.

  “Just because two crimes happen around the same time doesn’t mean they’re connected,” Dane reminded him.

  “And just because two crimes don’t make sense doesn’t mean they aren’t connected,” Chance countered.

  They were both right.

  “Speaking of not making sense, I’d like to hire you as a consultant on something,” Dane announced. “You interested?”

  “Is it connected to what happened yesterday?”

  “I don’t know, to be honest, but it’s definitely a mystery we need to solve ASAP.” Dane could hear movement on the other side of the phone.

  “Okay, got a pen and paper. Hit me.”

  Even though Dane was outside, he kept his voice low and walked farther down the sidewalk that led to the curb. As if Lonnie could hear him. He just didn’t want to spook the boy. He’d already been through enough.

  “I want you to find someone for me. Tucker Hughes. H-u-g-h-e-s.” He waited a beat for Chance to write it down. “He’s Lonnie’s uncle. The boy from yesterday.”

 

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