The Negotiation

by Tyler Anne Snell

  “Turn your radio to channel 93.7,” Mills insisted. “Now!”

  Rachel put the truck in Park while Dane pushed the seek button on his dash. Each channel that scrolled by on the radio’s small digital screen felt like a stab in his gut. A few of the pieces to the past forty-eight hours were starting to come together.

  “What is it?” Rachel asked. “What’s going on?”

  Before Deputy Mills could answer, Dane remembered what Chance had said earlier that day.

  “It’s a broadcast,” he proclaimed, guessing. “One I don’t think we’re going to like.”

  Sure enough, the first thing the three of them heard froze Dane’s blood in place.

  “—is finally here,” a man’s voice boomed through the truck’s speaker. “It’s time to pay the consequences, Riker County. Once and for all.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “For those of you fine lawmen and women just now tuning in, I want to say a good ol’ ‘how do you do?’ The sun is shining, the heat is cooling, and just because we have a bone to pick with you doesn’t mean we can’t be civil. So, let’s remember that going forward.”

  Rachel stared at the radio like it could show her who was behind the broadcast if she looked hard enough. It was the third time the recording had played, fashioned on a loop. They’d been quiet while listening to the first one, but Dane and Deputy Mills had gone into action by the second. Now, on the third, Rachel was alone in the truck while the two talked together outside with Mills’s cell phone on speaker between them.

  “The time is finally here,” the man continued. Like he was preaching gospel. “It’s time to pay the consequences, Riker County. Once and for all. But what does that mean? What does that mean for all of you who have been singled out? Well, I’m here to tell you. Today a man, a good man, was killed in cold blood. His name? His alleged crime? None of that matters. But what does matter is the reason behind why the man pulled the trigger.”

  He paused. Rachel had already heard it before, but still she leaned forward in her seat.

  “Power.”

  The skin of her arms erupted in goose bumps. Whoever the man was, he knew how to speak well.

  “This power came with a badge and ended with a bullet in a good man, and I’m here to tell you that we’re fed up with it. And we’re fed up with those who stand behind that man and that badge. This isn’t the first time this has happened, but it will be the last.”

  Now to the part that tightened Rachel’s stomach.

  “At least, it’ll be the last for Riker County’s very own Captain Dane Jones.”

  The broadcast extended long enough to hear the man’s laughter erupt and then end. Shortly after, the loop started from the beginning.

  Rachel looked out through the windshield at the man of the hour. Dane had his hands resting on his hips, attention on the phone between him and the deputy. His eyes had a hawk-eye intensity to them. He was focused, no doubt, and the look she’d just talked about was back in full force.

  This time, she didn’t blame him.

  This time, Rachel couldn’t help copying that same look.

  She was no stranger to knowing how to feel when people she cared about were in danger. It made you re-evaluate what you felt. Put things in perspective. Rachel turned the volume down on the radio and really looked at Dane.

  Back around the time when Rachel had wrangled Dane into the car at the oral surgeon’s office, they had been several years younger. Dane had been a new deputy then and on the wrong side of cautious. He listened to his gut before he listened to the rules and was more prone to jump into the fray than to stand back and make a plan. It was a series of traits that could have been career-killers or -makers, depending on how they were used.

  Dane? He decided to turn his potential weaknesses into strengths.

  He’d risen through the ranks until the idea of running for sheriff hadn’t been so far out of reach.

  By that time Rachel had easily called him a close friend.

  But then everything had changed. One day Rachel had looked around and not only was David gone, but Dane was, too.

  There had been many sleepless nights, unasked and unanswered questions, and feelings of abandonment on her part between then and now. Rachel wasn’t stupid and she wasn’t completely unsympathetic. David and the hostages had been executed during Dane’s plan to storm the gate, so to speak, and try to save them. It had been his plan, his decision, and it hadn’t worked.

  But never once had Rachel blamed him for it. Never once had resentment or anger colored her thoughts of the man or the department that had backed him up.

  The only person she had ever blamed for her husband’s death was the man who had shot her husband in the head.

  Rachel balled her fist.

  She’d told that to Dane every time she saw another part of him draw away from her. She’d told them all that her sorrow wasn’t their fault. A lot of them had felt it, too. But that hadn’t been enough for Dane.

  So Rachel decided one day to be patient. To let him distance himself until he could face her without feeling the undeserved guilt he obviously was drowning in.

  Yet once he was gone, he never came back.

  That is, until Rachel had called him in trouble. There had been no hesitation to try to help her. Though she couldn’t say it was the same Dane she remembered. He was older now, and with that age had come experience. He had become captain instead of sheriff. He spent his days mostly behind a desk, only going into the field when needed. She would bet his gut still spoke to him, but he was more wary when it came to listening. And she’d be remiss if she didn’t note the physical transformation was just as different. He’d definitely taken a shine to the gym. Even through his button-down she could see the cut of his biceps and the firmness of his chest. When he’d helped her off Tucker Hughes’s roof and guided her to the bathroom, she’d even felt the strength in his hands. The steadiness.

  It made her wonder how the rest of him felt, too.

  The thought sprang up so fast that Rachel had to take a few seconds to process it. Had she really just thought of Dane’s body? Dane’s body against hers?

  Heat traveled up her neck and pooled in her cheeks.

  Rachel shook her head.

  The man’s voice on broadcast continued to ramble on.

  Now wasn’t the time to puzzle over her past or her future with Dane Jones.

  All at once, Rachel made up her mind. She opened the truck door and walked over to the captain and deputy. They were ending their current call. It was easy to see that both men were a mile past concerned. Which only strengthened Rachel’s new resolve.

  Dane raised his eyebrow as she approached.

  Rachel didn’t let it sway her. Mirroring his stance, she placed both hands on her hips and hardened her jaw.

  “So,” she started, “what’s the plan?”

  * * *

  “I DON’T LIKE this plan.”

  Dane was one of many in the briefing room at the sheriff’s department. After the broadcast, they’d changed course. Since Dane was being singled out, there was a good chance going to his house was what their unknown broadcaster might want. Sure, he believed his house was safe, but that was before he had become a target. Now? He wasn’t about to roll the dice.

  However that didn’t mean he was okay with the new plan Billy had come up with.

  The sheriff gave him a knowing look. “Everyone in this room has, at one point during their careers, not liked a plan,” he pointed out. “Especially when it involves them taking a step back.”

  A chorus of agreements swept through the room. Dane knew for a fact that some of them had complained about the same thing when their personal lives had been threatened. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

  They wanted to not only bench him but hide him in a safe house. Or, really, hide them. Rache
l sat next to him, back ramrod-straight. It wasn’t exactly protocol to have her there, but sometimes the department had gotten flexible when loved ones were thrown into the mix.

  Dane didn’t even have the patience to think on the fact that he’d automatically lumped Rachel into the category of his “loved ones.”

  Billy held up his hand to stop any more guff.

  “Let’s refocus here,” he said. “We need to put all our cards on the table and try to figure out who is holding what.”

  Dane nodded. He was right.

  Billy leaned forward on the podium at the head of the room. He motioned to the whiteboard. Dane was already up and moving toward it.

  “It’s almost like we have three cases running parallel to each other. Let’s do facts only first and then we’ll do theories.” Dane picked up a marker and drew two lines next to each other. He started working on the first one. “Three men in a van show up at Darby Middle yesterday morning. They approach Rachel and Lonnie before chasing them into the school. Rachel gets creative, makes the men think they’re gone, and the men leave. As a precaution I watch Rachel’s house and Henry watches Lonnie’s, following him and Tucker from here straight there.” He paused to finish writing everything he’d just said. Everyone remained silent, waiting.

  “The next morning—God, I guess today—” it felt like a lifetime away “—Rachel and I go to Lonnie’s to relieve Henry and wait for Deputy Medina. That’s when we find out that Tucker Hughes isn’t home. In fact, he’s packed up his things and snuck out in the middle of the night, leaving Lonnie alone.”

  This time there were grumbles from behind them. Half of the people in the room were parents. They were saying without doing so out loud that they would never have left their kids.

  “While I go across the street to talk to a neighbor, a black Lincoln pulls into the driveway and out comes Tucker, beaten black and blue,” Dane continued. “He tells me he wants to know where Lonnie is before we’re interrupted by Knife Guy.”

  They still hadn’t found out the now-deceased man’s identity. Rachel had said she called him Sandy Hair because of his hair color, but Dane wasn’t about to refer to the man as that.

  “He doesn’t like Tucker and is pissed Tucker tried to leave town. He says a man named Levi had given Tucker a second chance and that he couldn’t believe Tucker was in charge of keeping Lonnie safe. Then he gives Tucker a choice—tell him where Lonnie is or Knife Guy kills him. That’s when I enter, but so does a second, unknown man.”

  “Overalls.”

  Dane turned around.

  Rachel cleared her throat. “He was wearing overalls when he tried to grab us. So I call him Overalls.”

  Dane would have given her a smile under normal circumstances—the name was cute—but the thought of the man trying his best to take her left a sour taste in his mouth. Still, he wrote “Overalls” on the whiteboard.

  “Knife Guy doesn’t waste any time in going at Tucker while I fight with Overalls.” Dane decided to purposefully omit the close call of Knife Guy nearly gutting him or Overalls nearly shooting him with his own gun that had been knocked out of Dane’s grip. “I manage to get a shot in on Overalls’s shoulder as he flees. Then I run upstairs to neutralize Knife Guy.” Dane didn’t miss how his knuckles turned white as he gripped the marker. “Before that he tells Rachel that Lonnie was their endgame and she was just a bonus.”

  More grumbles went through the room behind him as he made another note. This time it wasn’t just the parents. “Tucker is then hospitalized and, while he’s out of the woods, he’s still not conscious, so he can’t tell us anything. Though, to be honest, I wouldn’t be inclined to believe what he said anyways.”

  Dane was at the end of the first line on the board. He switched to the second and wrote his name next to it.

  “A few hours after we leave Tucker’s house, Dispatch gets a call saying to turn to channel 93.7 and then hangs up. It’s a lovely broadcast that talks about a man with a badge killing a good man and then point-blank calls me out.” He paused and turned to look at Detective Foster. He had his notepad out. “And the call was traced to...?”

  “The only damn pay phone still in service in downtown Darby,” Caleb answered. “Detective Ansler is there now canvassing the area for any possible witnesses or working security cameras that might have gotten a good look at the caller.”

  Dane nodded and added the pay phone to the board. He hadn’t asked about the call earlier because he’d already known that whoever had put the broadcast on the air probably wasn’t stupid enough to call from a personal cell phone and keep it on them.

  He would only be so lucky.

  “We also are still working on finding the location of the broadcast,” Caleb added. “Our friends at the local FBI office are spearheading that.”

  Dane drew a third line. He put four notes along it before capping the marker and turning to explain.

  “Consultant Chance Montgomery approached me yesterday morning, before the incident at the school, and told me he was following a case about a series of thefts that occurred at the same time in Birmingham. Three warehouses reported missing shipments of dog crates, bubble wrap and radio equipment. Radio equipment capable of broadcasting. Chance followed it to Riker County because the van used to steal the bubble wrap had a plate that belonged to a deceased resident.” He stepped aside to make sure everyone could see the name he’d written. “Tracy Markinson.”

  Rachel’s eyes widened, but she didn’t stop him to ask any questions.

  “Last time I talked to Chance, he was still trying to figure out where that van went after Tracy passed.” He looked to Billy. “He’s also retracing Tucker’s steps as best he can from where he fled last night.”

  Billy nodded.

  Dane put the marker back in the whiteboard holder.

  He didn’t have to look at the notes. They’d already been blaring through his head since the broadcast. “Those are the facts as we know them, folks. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that all cases are connected. We just need to know how. So, now it’s time to start asking questions.” He smirked. “And I can’t believe I’m saying this, jumping to conclusions.”

  Suzy kicked the group off.

  “It sounds like Levi is pulling the strings,” she said. “He’s not just after kids. He’s after Lonnie specifically. Considering Tucker, as far as we know, isn’t the richest guy and Lonnie’s only family to boot, I think we can rule out ransom. Since Levi also mentioned Tucker’s job was to keep the boy safe, that could also mean we rule out any obscure revenge-type plans. And this certainly doesn’t seem random. To be honest, it sounds like this Levi guy might be sentimental about the kid.”

  “You killed Knife Guy and then the broadcast happens a few hours later,” Caleb interjected, picking up the conversational thread. “But if Chance is right, then they were planning to broadcast way before you even knew about him. Even before they showed up at the school. He either anticipated someone was going to take one of his guys out or you doing it made him change his message.”

  “Why need a message at all?” Billy asked. “A question that leads us right back to why Levi wants Lonnie in the first place.”

  “And why Rachel was a bonus,” Suzy added. “Did they mean because she just happened to be with Lonnie both times? Or was she on the list with him, just not the ‘endgame’ as Knife Guy said?”

  Dane wished he could answer any of the questions. Instead he looked to Rachel. She hadn’t stopped staring at the whiteboard. Her expression was blank. A fresh wave of guilt went through him. She’d almost been killed less than a few hours ago and now there they were, talking about the unknown men, their intentions and their targets like it was just another day.

  Which, sometimes for the Riker County’s Sheriff Department, it was.

  Still, he shouldn’t have agreed to her coming into the briefing room. He should ha
ve let her take a break in his office. Dane was about to offer that spot in his office when she beat him to getting up.

  “Can I write on the board?” she asked, hesitating for only the briefest of moments.

  He nodded and stepped aside. “Yeah, sure.”

  Everyone quieted as she approached the board.

  She took the marker and moved to the corner. She wrote quickly. Dane couldn’t see it as she turned around on the spot.

  “The gospel,” she started simply, addressing the room as a whole. “The man on the broadcast gave his message like it was the gospel.” Then she was looking just at him. Blue eyes almost too perfect to be real. “Dane, who else have we heard that sounded like that?”

  Rachel stepped to the side. She’d drawn another line. Next to it read one name.

  Saviors of the South.

  Chapter Twelve

  “The Saviors of the South effectively died with Marcus,” Detective Foster said. “And even if it was some of the stragglers left over, that still doesn’t answer why they want Lonnie.”

  Dane hadn’t said a word. It was like Rachel had hit the mute button on the man. The sheriff was right there with him while Suzy and Caleb tried to disprove what she said. They were several minutes in and had gotten nowhere fast. Rachel hung out at her spot next to the whiteboard, trying to quietly piece together what the group was trying to put together aloud. After a volley of more questions between them led only in circles, she finally had an idea.

  “If they are a part of the Saviors, then their interest in me is probably from what happened years ago,” she pointed out. “The Saviors made me a widow and now this man Levi has, at least, some interest in getting me. Maybe Lonnie is somehow connected to what the Saviors did back then, too.”

  The silence that followed Rachel’s words was swift and calculated. No one disputed her, but no one agreed, either. But Dane had asked for questions, theories, and even jumping to conclusions. Rachel believed her thoughts fell somewhere in the gray area of all three.