by Harris, Lisa
Heading for the parking lot, he redialed Rafael’s number on the off chance he might answer. Still nothing. He was used to cases that fed on one’s adrenaline, but when they became personal, it always felt like an extra blow.
Mason’s phone rang as he unlocked his truck with the click of a button. If it were Rafael or Emily … He glanced at the caller ID, then hesitated.
Calvin.
He slid into the driver’s seat, his stress level rising another notch. Whatever his baby brother had to say, it wasn’t likely going to be good news.
“Calvin?”
“Hey, bro. Just got your message. Please don’t tell me you’re really not coming.”
“I can’t. Not now anyway.” He’d used work as an excuse for years, but this time was legitimate. “I know it’s bad timing, but it’s a hostage situation and I can’t just walk away.”
“You might have to. I just finished talking to the doctor about Dad.” Calvin’s voice cracked. “Hospice is coming to the house this afternoon. They’re only giving him a few more days.”
Mason eased into the eastbound traffic, searching for the right response. Calvin would never completely understand why he wasn’t ready to reenter the door their father had firmly closed so many years ago. His brother had been too young to remember the drunken brawls along with the seizures, hallucinations, and severe depression Mason had been forced to cope with. It had changed their relationship from father and son to Mason being the caregiver. Continuing the charade of having a relationship with the man he’d eventually rescued his brothers from had long ceased to be a priority.
But if nothing else, he needed to be there for Calvin and Craig.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. I promise.”
Because he did care. But facing a man who had walked out of his life years ago and was suddenly acting on his deathbed as if nothing had ever gone wrong between them tore at his gut and left him feeling vulnerable.
Mason’s stomach clenched as he hung up.
He punched in Rafael’s number again. He needed to focus on the crisis at hand and deal with his father later. His father might be dying, but it was too late to develop the relationship he’d once craved. As for Rafael, he knew how hostage situations worked. The captain wouldn’t hesitate to give the order to take him out if given the opportunity. Both situations he faced were losing battles.
The room spun in slow motion. Emily watched Rafael hold the gun against Tess’s temple and dug for courage to take control of her emotions. Her niece stood frozen in front of him, her head tilted back, eyes wide in terror. No matter what he did, she felt like she was gambling with her niece’s life.
Emily took a deep breath, looking from Tess to Rafael. “Tess, I want you to do exactly what he says. Rafael, I know about your brother. I know you’re afraid, but this isn’t the way to fix things. Let go of Tess. She’s no threat to you. She’s not going anywhere.”
Rafael’s phone started ringing again. Mason was probably calling, wondering why they’d lost the connection. Emily pressed her palm against her chest as fear closed in, threatening to strangle her. Saying the wrong thing could push Rafael over the edge, but not saying anything didn’t seem to be an option. As soon as she’d locked the door, Rafael had ordered one of the students to close the blinds. Which meant they couldn’t see what was going on outside the school.
God, I know you’re here, but I don’t know what to do. Please … please resolve this before someone gets hurt … or worse.
“You’re going to have to answer the phone eventually,” she continued. “They’re going to want to know your demands.”
He stared at her for a few seconds. “I’ll talk to them when I’m ready.” Rafael turned toward the other students, forcing Tess to move with him. “For now, I want all of you to move to the back of the room and be quiet.”
Emily hesitated. Like Mason, she too had missed something. Rafael had always been her prize pupil. One she thought she knew. But now … His reaction didn’t make sense.
“I spoke with Mason Taylor this morning,” she began. “He was looking for you. Said you hadn’t shown up for your meeting with him.”
“Mr. Taylor can’t help me. Now move to the back of the room and sit down. All of you.”
He swung the gun upward until it was pointing at Emily, then let Tess join the other students. Besides the sound of someone whimpering in the back of the room, the only thing Emily could hear was the pounding of her heart in her ears.
Emily walked slowly in front of Rafael to where the students sat, fighting to keep her mind clear. A few months ago, all the teachers had been required to take a class on the school’s emergency procedures, including a discussion of gunman scenarios.
Evaluate the situation, determine how many are involved, what kinds of weapons, don’t try to play the role of hero, try to call for help, and most of all, remain calm …
Calm? Right.
She’d memorized the school’s emergency procedures. An all-school lockdown would now be in effect. Entrances would be sealed, no one allowed outside the classrooms until the “All Clear” was announced. Classroom doors would be locked, lights turned off, blinds and windows shut. Students and staff would sit against an interior wall. Status cards placed in the windows. Green for okay. Red for emergency assistance needed.
Emily tried to slow her breathing. It had been easy going over a scenario in a classroom with a PowerPoint lesson, catered barbecue on the back table, and a room full of her colleagues. Dealing with a gun pointed at her niece—and a dozen of her students—changed everything.
The problem was, she knew more about the American Revolution and the Italian Renaissance than how to negotiate a hostage situation. But until the police were able to take over, negotiating with Rafael might end up being their only way out. She glanced around her orderly classroom, searching for the right words. Desks and chairs were lined up in neat rows the way she liked it. Enlarged photos depicting scenes from ancient Greece to current events in the Middle East hung on the wall above history books she’d collected over the past few years. But details of the room weren’t what she saw at the moment.
Instead, she saw Tess, sharing a seat in the back with one of her senior girls, Izzie Johnson, who had a protective arm around her younger niece. Philip Marx, a basketball player, sat beside them, his jaw tense. Amie Wright, sobbing quietly, sat to his left. She’d been through more than her fair share of trauma over the past few months after losing her best friend in a car accident. Shani Wells, Kevin Hunter, Lexi Valentine … She’d known some of them for years.
She lifted up another short prayer, then turned back to Rafael. “Mason told me about your brother, Rafael. He told me that they grabbed him from your house and are holding him for ransom. I’m so, so sorry.”
“I am too, but being sorry won’t keep him alive.”
Emily tried to read his expression. He looked in control, but also clearly scared. As if he were fighting with his emotions. Which might be good. If he was hesitant at all about what he was doing, she might be able to gain the advantage and convince him to stand down. ”Tell me what you want, Rafael.”
“It’s simple. They have my brother. If I don’t get them what they want, they’re going to kill him.”
“Who are they?”
He tugged on the bill of his baseball cap. “Someone working with the Mexican cartel or maybe a local gang … Does it really matter? They’ve made their demands, and now I’m going to make mine.”
Emily forced herself to keep her voice calm. “Mason mentioned you thought it was a case of mistaken identity.”
“I know my brother. He might not be perfect, but he’s not in debt to some drug lord. Which means there’s no hidden stash of cash laying around my house.”
“That might be true, but you know this isn’t the way to get what they want. You can put a stop to this right now before it’s too late. Before someone gets hurt.”
“You’re wrong.” Rafael shook his head, his voice r
ising in volume. “What would you do if they took your sister or your niece and threatened to kill them? What choice would you have?”
“You always have a choice, Rafael—”
“That’s easy to say in your position, but because I don’t have what they want, my brother is as good as dead.” His gaze narrowed. “Tell me honestly what you would do.”
All the pat answers people had thrown at her after Michael died came flying back at Emily. Everything happens for a reason … I know exactly how you feel … You’re going to have to move on and put his death behind you … Most had left her angry enough to scream. And as much as she wanted to find an easy fix to Rafael’s dilemma, she knew it wasn’t possible. There was no pat answer she could give him.
“I don’t know what I would do, but not this. You have your whole life ahead of you. Don’t throw it away by panicking and doing something you’ll regret. Think about it, Rafael. You already know there are people willing to help you.”
Rafael blinked and she caught a hint of conflict in his eyes. If she could convince him to walk away …
“Rafael?”
“You’re wrong.” He shook his head slowly before answering. “Do you really think the police are going to hand over a bunch of money so they’ll let my brother go?”
“No, but they might be able to find him—”
“And if they don’t?”
Emily pressed her lips together. Sirens blared in the background. Communications would be set up by now, with negotiators and snipers moving into place … and they’d all be there with one goal in mind. To end the situation before any innocent students got hurt. And if Rafael went down in the process, that loss would be considered acceptable.
6
Mason hurried across the Dogwood Academy parking lot toward the outer barrier the local uniforms had established to keep onlookers at bay beyond the police safety line. The information he’d passed on to the dispatcher would have already been evaluated at the scene to determine the number of students involved and the actual threat they were facing.
Guilt resurfaced as he replayed his conversation with Rafael earlier that morning. He’d missed something. After years of experience in reading people, he’d never imagined Rafael to be one who’d snap. If he’d caught something—anything—he might have been able to stop what was happening right now.
Captain Quinton Peterson exited his unmarked vehicle a dozen yards from them, clearly in charge as he approached the on-scene commander. With twenty-plus years on the force, Captain Peterson knew exactly what he was doing. Which somehow managed to make up for his brusque personality.
Lieutenant Green, blond crew cut, midthirties, stepped forward to shake the older man’s hand. “Captain Peterson. It’s good to see you.”
“You as well, Lieutenant Green. I’ll be taking over as the Incident Commander in this situation.” The captain was direct and unapologetic for it. “This case is going to become high profile as soon as the media runs the story, which means while we might not be able to stop the press, we are going to need to wrap this up quickly and without any incidents.”
“Yes sir.”
Mason could feel the tension in the air. The last thing they needed right now was another Newtown. Maybe the fact that Rafael wanted something more than simply revenge would play in their favor.
Captain Peterson took off his sunglasses and rested them atop his kinky salt-and-pepper hair. “Tell me what you’ve done so far.”
Lieutenant Green nodded at an older man who looked as if he’d just downed too much caffeine. “This is Vice Principal Tuttle. Principal Farley gave the order to lock down the school. We’ve just given the all clear to send the middle school students to the gym, which will be used as the designated reunification site where parents will be told to pick them up using the separate parking lot.”
“And our gunman, Mr. Tuttle?”
“Unfortunately we have little information. We understand that senior Rafael Cerda is currently holed up in the east wing of the campus inside a high school classroom with an undisclosed number of students and the school’s history teacher, Emily Hunt.”
“Captain Hunt’s daughter?”
“Yes sir.”
The captain turned back to the officer. “Who do you have for the negotiator?”
“Charlie Bain’s already been called in and should be here in the next …” The officer glanced at his watch. “Five, ten minutes tops. He’s the best we’ve got.”
Mason stared at a narrow crack in the parking lot where he stood while the lieutenant continued the brief.
“A command post is being set up in the main office, and the tactical team is being situated outside the classroom in case negotiations fail, making a forced entry necessary.”
Mason drew in a breath of frustration along with the sweet smell of alyssum that always brought back memories of his aunt’s garden. Beads of perspiration formed across his forehead despite the cool weather. Rafael was an eighteen-year-old kid who knew nothing about drug dealers, let alone a ransom situation.
“Captain?” Mason stepped forward.
Captain Peterson scowled at the interruption. “What is it?”
“I know Rafael.”
The captain stopped and caught Mason’s gaze. “You know the target?”
“He’s not a target.” Mason moved in front of the captain and handed him his phone with the photos of Rafael’s brother. “What he is doing is inexcusable, but he’s an eighteen-year-old boy in a panic over his brother being held for ransom. He’s not a criminal.”
Captain Peterson studied the photos. “Where did you get these?”
“Rafael sent them to me this morning. They’re proof-of-life photos. They’re demanding two hundred and fifty thousand dollars by two o’clock this afternoon to pay back a drug debt.”
“So this is tied to the cartel?”
“Cartel or maybe someone on a lower level. Rafael’s convinced his brother’s kidnapping is a result of mistaken identity.”
“Do you think he’s capable of hurting the kids in that classroom?”
Mason caught the skepticism in the captain’s voice. “No sir, I don’t. When I spoke to Rafael this morning, he was agitated, but there were no signs of him being out of control. Clearly, I missed something, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t believe he is capable of shooting anyone.”
Captain Peterson looked at the photos of Eduardo as a car pulled up, and Charlie Bains exited the vehicle. Even today, Bains looked like he’d be more at home in a country club than a precinct. It was easy even for Mason to see why Emily had once agreed to marry Charlie.
“I want you to put together a profile of him,” the captain said. “I want to know everything there is to know about him, from what toothpaste he uses to what he likes to eat for dinner. And get his mother in here.”
Captain Peterson turned to Charlie to begin the briefing, but Mason wasn’t finished. Anyone could come up with a profile of Rafael. Charlie wasn’t going to be able to connect with him the way he could.
“Captain, excuse me, but if you let me talk to him, I think I can convince him to end this peacefully.” Mason tried to ignore the gnawing feeling that his insistence was trying to make up for his failure earlier that morning. But even if he’d missed something, he was still the best person for the job. “I know Rafael and could establish contact with him now without waiting for time on briefings and research. He trusts me, which could give us a huge step forward in the negotiations.”
Charlie frowned. “From what I’ve been told, there are a bunch of scared teenagers locked in a classroom with a student in possession of a weapon. Just because you know Rafael doesn’t mean you know anything about tactical intervention, psychological strategies, or crisis resolution. You could get everyone in there killed.”
“Really? I’ve met with drug dealers face-to-face and negotiated my way out of dozens of hostile situations, which means I’ve had to learn to read people. I know how to negotiate with my
own life on the line. There’s no reason why I can’t do the same here. Rafael knows and trusts me.”
“We don’t have time to argue this. Mason, you just got your wish.” Captain Peterson turned back to them, hands locked behind him, feet spread slightly apart. “Keep trying to get ahold of him. Charlie and I will be here to run the secondary roles, but this is your game now. Our goal is to convince Rafael to end this on his own.”
The captain turned back to Lieutenant Green. “Call Detective North and have her team find out whatever connections they can between the kidnapping of Eduardo Cerda and the Torres case they’ve been working on. I want this boy’s mother brought in, and search his house, in case finding where the brother is ends up being the only way out of this.”
Mason dialed Rafael’s number and let it ring. Still no answer. He stared out across the perfectly landscaped lawn to where Rafael was holed up inside a classroom with a gun in his hand and a bunch of scared kids. Rafael, no doubt, was feeling that same, overwhelming frustration. Not that that excused his actions, but at least he could understand the boy’s desperation to save his brother.
Memories of his own brother swam through his mind afresh. Sometimes life didn’t play favorites. Sometimes evil gained the upper hand. He might not have been able to save his brother, but he could do everything he could to save Emily and the students in that room.
God, the lives of these kids are on the line as well as Emily’s. I need the right words to say to him …
Mason took in a deep breath. Michael’s death had forced him to look at life—and death—differently, which was why praying was a new habit he was trying to form. Funny how the older he got, the more his aunt’s words had come back to haunt him. He’d spent his life running from any structure and authority, and religion fell smack-dab in the middle of them both.
When he’d showed up on her porch with his two younger brothers, she agreed they could stay, as long as they followed her rules. She’d insisted on church three times a week, no drinking or swearing, and piano lessons for the three of them. Despite his rebellious tendencies, her unconditional love and bottomless bowls of peach cobbler had managed to make up for the altar calls and music recitals he couldn’t avoid.
