Altercation (22 page)

C
arl twirled the pen between his fingers and scowled at the blinking computer screen in front of him. All he wanted was answers. So simple. Why couldn’t the FBI give them to him? “Can you at least tell me where this mafia originated? His family has a right to know.”

“Detective.” Agent Horton’s voice on the other side heaved a frustrated sigh. “I can’t tell you any more than I already did. We believe we know Rivera’s whereabouts, and we intend to take him into custody.”

“But you can’t tell me where?” Carl pressed.

“What good would it do?” the agent growled. “You can’t go get him.”

But I might be able to let him know what you’re up to.
The thought crossed his mind, unexpected. It surprised Carl. Was that why he wanted to find Rivera so badly? To warn him?

Carl had already been told not to try and contact Rivera. He couldn’t use the email address anymore because the FBI was monitoring it. But Carl still had the nagging need to understand why Rivera felt he had to fight this battle. “Maybe I might see a pattern of where he’s been. Maybe I can tell you where his next step is.”

“We have all the information you have, Detective.” Now Horton sounded annoyed. “If there’s a pattern, we’ll find it.”

Carl tried a different approach. “What about the other man the girls mentioned? The one The Hand tried to sell them to?”

“We don’t know anything about him,” the voice admitted. “Their description doesn’t match any known criminal on our radar.”

“I can promise you this,” Carl said. “You find that guy, and you find Rivera.”

A pause and then, “You think that’s his next step?”

“Certain of it,” Carl said, leaning forward. Finally. He had Horton’s attention. “Whatever else might be on his agenda, Rivera will take out that man. You can bet on it.”

“Well.” The agent sounded dismissive again. “He won’t get the chance. We should have him within the week. We know his next move.”

“Which is?”

“We’ve told you all we can, Hamilton.”

Not even a courtesy “detective” this time. Carl winced. His time had expired. “All right. I guess I’ll find out when the family does.”

“You might.”

Carl hung up the phone, still twirling his pen. He knelt by the mini-fridge under his desk and pulled out a jar of dill pickle spears. He hoped Rivera found his man before the FBI caught up with him.

T
he jet landed at the Shelley Idaho airport. The FBI agents shepherded the teenagers past any passengers and into a small conference room.

Jaci recognized Agent Banks. He must’ve been in the cockpit or something. She felt a surge of relief at the familiar unibrow. She sat down in a soft chair and clenched her hands in her lap.

Banks started speaking as soon as the door closed behind them. “In a moment you will be reunited with your families. This could be as much a shock to you as to them. You may stay here as long as you like.” He paused a moment, looking around the table. “You are safe now. You have nothing to fear.”

The door opened and sets of anxious parents piled in.

Jaci’s eyes set on her mother. The woman who had always carried herself with such confidence and grace seemed to have shriveled inward. Her shoulders hunched forward, her sunken cheeks and eyes betraying how much weight she had lost. She clutched her purse in her hands, her dark hair falling over her shoulders.

“Mama,” Jaci whispered. She reached her hands out.

“Jaci!” Mrs. Rivera rushed forward, knocking her leg against a chair.

Seth bolted up and wrapped his arms around their mother. He guided her over to Jaci.

“Jaci.
Mija.
” The woman collapsed in a chair next to Jaci, dissolving into tears. She pulled a tissue out of her purse with shaking hands. “Let me take you home, baby.”

Jaci looked around the room, at Sara and Amanda, both involved in their own tearful reunions. An ache formed in her throat. Callie.

“Jaci, sweetheart?” Mrs. Rivera tugged on her hand.

Jaci took a deep breath. She gave a smile, trying to be strong for her mother’s sake. “Yes. Let’s go home.” She looked at Seth, saw in his expression that he had also noticed their mother’s neediness. She was a broken woman.

“Jaci.” Ricky touched her wrist, stopping her as Seth opened the door. “I’ll call you.”

“Give me some time, Ricky,” Jaci whispered.

He took a step backward, giving a quick nod of his head. “Sure. Of course.”

Though Seth offered it to her, Jaci didn’t want the passenger seat in the car. She hunkered down in the back, trying to keep her head low.

“Do you want to stop for food?” her mom asked, glancing at Jaci in the rearview mirror.

Jaci shook her head. “No. Just home.” Her heart pounded at the mention of the word, her stomach churning with anticipation. Could she really be going home? Was this really over?

They drove up the long gravel drive and parked in the driveway. Seth helped Jaci out of the back. She gripped his hand and stared at the familiar redbrick house in front of her. She followed her mom into the house, breathing in the incense that drifted from the kitchen. She trailed her fingers over the fabric on the back of the couches.

“Mom?”

Mrs. Rivera slid the deadbolt over and looked up. “Yes, Jaci?”

Jaci knotted her hands together in front of her body. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” She stole a look at Seth. “Alone?”

Her mother’s expression softened and she placed a hand on Jaci’s shoulder. “Let’s go to my room.”

Jaci waited on the quilted bedspread while her mother closed the double doors to the bedroom.

“Now.” Mrs. Rivera sat down cross-legged in front of Jaci. “What is it?”

Jaci pressed her hands against the bed. Her heart pounded. Could she really bring this up? Could her mom deal with anything more? “Did you know about Dad?”

Mrs. Rivera sucked in her breath. She bowed her head as if praying, and then met Jaci’s eyes. “Know what about him?”

“I mean,” Jaci said, trying to keep the accusations from her voice, “how could you not know? He’s your husband. You shared everything with him.”

Mrs. Rivera touched her lips with her fingertips, tears trailing down her face. “Detective Hamilton said you saw him. What did he say to you?”

Her mother’s obvious emotion broke something in Jaci. Her throat ached. She inhaled, then again, suddenly thirsty for air. She rubbed her chest, trying to relieve the tightness. Her eyes burned, and she couldn’t stop the sobs from erupting. “How could he do this to us? How could he lie to us?”

Her mother’s arms went around her, and Mrs. Rivera cried with her. “I don’t know, Jaci. But he loved you. I know he loved you.”

Jaci pulled back, brushing angrily at the wetness on her cheeks. “That’s what he told me to tell you. That he loves you. And he’s sorry.”

“Your father is not a bad man.”

Jaci nodded. “I know.” The tears started up again. “But why him? Why couldn’t we just be a normal family like we pretended to be?”

“There were times,” her mother murmured, “when I thought he was lying to me. There were times I thought he was having an affair.” A rosy color crept over Mrs. Rivera’s face. “But he always had a good explanation, a healthy laugh. And I wanted to believe him. Who knows?” She shrugged. “Maybe he was.”

“No.” Jaci shook her head. She couldn’t believe that. She could believe that her father was a vigilante, trying to right the evils of the world one bad guy at a time. She could believe that he rubbed shoulders with wicked men and paid the Riveras’ mortgage with illegal money. She could even believe that he would walk away from his family and never appear in their lives again. But she could never believe he would be unfaithful to her mother. “It’s not like that. I’m sure of it.” And she was. She had seen it in his eyes, the longing for his wife and family.

Her mother squeezed her eyes shut. “Could I have a moment to myself, Jaci?”

Jaci nodded, feeling guilty for making her mother talk about this now. “I’m going to go lay down for a bit.”

“Happy birthday, Jaci!” Mrs. Rivera kissed Jaci’s cheek. “Sweet sixteen,
querida.
”

Jaci rubbed her arms, aching to get back to the piles of schoolwork in her room. The past four days at home had been a whirlwind of activity and emotion. Thank goodness someone from the school administration had come by with a packet of schoolwork to get her back on schedule. Jaci had dived into it, grateful for the focused distraction. She would spend all of November and December catching up so she could go back in January, like a normal student.

“Mama.” She tried to smile at the pink cake with sixteen flickering candles. “You shouldn’t have.”

Mrs. Rivera got the ice-cream out of the freezer. “I wanted to have a celebration.”

Seth grabbed Jaci, holding her in his big bear hug. “Jaci. Sixteen only happens once.”

“But I had a big party for my
quinceañera
,” Jaci said, referring to her fifteenth birthday celebration. “I don’t need one now.”

César was already cutting the cake, dipping his fingers in the thick icing.

“
Querida
.” Mrs. Rivera gave Jaci a tender look. “You said no party. Okay. You didn’t say no cake. This is a big day.”

Jaci didn’t want a big day. She didn’t want to celebrate anything, especially not a birthday. They were kidnapped at Callie’s fifteenth birthday party. She blinked quickly, trying to hide the tears that threatened. She had done nothing but cry since she got home.

“Here.” Seth handed her a card. “This is from me.”

“Okay.” Jaci stared down at the card, fingers trembling as she pried it open.

“Never mind.” Seth took it away from her. “It’s supposed to be funny, but you won’t get it. Anyway, I’m going to teach you how to drive. All right? Then we’ll get your license.”

Since that was Dad’s job. Teaching us how to drive.
Jaci gave a nod. “Thanks, Seth.”

The doorbell rang. Jaci gripped the stool under the bar, reminding herself that she didn’t need to jump at every little sound anymore.

“Oh, I got it,” Seth said, hurrying away.

Amanda strolled in, shaking her brown hair out of a purple and silver knit cap. “Hello!”

Jaci smiled, feeling the tension in her chest lighten. “Amanda.”

“Jaci.” Amanda dropped her snow-covered jacket on the couch and crossed the room. She gave Jaci a quick hug and handed her a wrapped gift. “Happy birthday.”

Jaci shot a glance at her mother.

“No parties.” Mrs. Rivera nodded, eyes solemn. “Just one friend.”

Amanda was the only person who knew how Jaci felt. Jaci didn’t mind her being there.

“Hi, Mrs. Rivera.” Amanda helped herself to a slice of cake.

Jaci gripped Amanda’s present under her arm. “Mama, we’re going upstairs.”

Her mother blew a kiss at her. “Happy birthday, dear.”

“Thanks.” She hurried out of the kitchen and up the stairs, Amanda close on her heels. She closed the door to her bedroom and turned to face Amanda, letting out a sigh of relief. “Thank heavens you’re here.”

Amanda sat on the floor and used her fork to cut the cake. “I haven’t seen you in two days. Of course I came.” She grinned at Jaci.

Jaci ran a hand through her short hair. Yesterday her mom had taken her to a stylist. They had dyed it brown and layered it into a cute bob. It still felt foreign to her. “Your hair looks nice.” Amanda’s had also been styled, though she had left it the chestnut brown color.

“Thanks. It’s a whole new me.”

“Everything’s new,” Jaci said, sinking onto the floor next to her.

“Everything,” Amanda echoed. She put down the cake. “So it’s official.”

“Your parents?”

Amanda nodded. “Divorced.” She said the word like she was pronouncing a death sentence, eyes set in hard lines, voice grim. “And the house sold. Mom’s taking her half and moving back to California.”

A stab of fear went through Jaci’s heart. “Are you going?” She tried to say it calmly, but her voice choked up at the end.

Amanda lifted her eyebrows. “Only if you’re coming with me.”

Jaci inhaled and let it out slowly. “You’re going to live with your dad?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Maybe our parents should get married.”

Jaci laughed out loud. “We would just fight if we lived together.”

“Yeah, you’re right. What’s your mom going to do?”

“I have no idea.” Not a word had been said about Mr. Rivera since Jaci had spoken to her mom. But she still wore her wedding ring.

Amanda cleared her throat. “You saw Ricky?”

Jaci tensed at the name. This would be the one topic between them that would be polemic. She shook her head. “No. You?”

“Yeah.” Amanda finished off her cake. “I went by Sara’s house yesterday.”

Jaci ignored the sliver of apprehension that ran through her. “How’s Sara?”

Amanda gave a slight frown. “Neal said she’s been in a pretty bad depression since they got back. I didn’t get to talk to her. She wouldn’t come out of her room.”

“That doesn’t sound good. I should go see her.”

“Have you gone by to visit Callie’s parents yet?”

Jaci took in a shaky breath and leaned her head against the desk. “No. I keep telling myself I’m going to, and then I don’t. It’s so hard to believe she’s gone.” They had been friends forever, after all.

“I don’t think I could face them.” Amanda pulled her knees up to her chest.

“Why?”

“You know. It was because of me.”

In a way, that was true. But Jaci had quit blaming her a long time ago. “Nobody thinks that.”

“I do.”

Jaci bumped Amanda’s shoulder. “You can’t keep thinking that way.” She felt hypocritical for saying it, since she carried as much guilt around as Amanda did. Jaci cleared her throat and changed the subject. “Did you decide to tell the police about the necklace?”

Amanda picked at a bare thread in the carpet. “What necklace?”

“Why keep it a secret, Amanda?” Jaci whispered. “Do you really think not telling the cops is helping anything? They already know about the bar, or whatever that was. So tell them that’s where we hid the necklace.”

Amanda took a deep, shuddering breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jaci studied her friend. Didn’t she? Or had Amanda effectively blocked that part of their kidnapping?

Not that it mattered. She decided to tell the police herself, the next time they spoke.

Seth knocked on the door. “Jaci? Phone.”

Jaci pushed to her feet. “I’ll be right back.” She took the cordless phone from Seth and went into his room. “Hello?”

“Jaci, it’s Ricky.”

“I know.” The words came out in a whisper. “You’re the only person who calls me.”

“Am I? Well, I wasn’t invited to your party. So, just wanted to say happy birthday. Even if I wasn’t invited.”

Jaci pressed the phone against her ear, closing her eyes. “Thanks. How’s Sara?”

“I guess she’s not that great. She just wants to be alone a lot. You should come see her.”

“Yeah.” Jaci nodded. “I will.”

“Listen, Jaci, I want to see you. Can you meet me somewhere? Like the library? You can even get a book while we’re there.”

“I don’t think so, Ricky.”

“Why won’t you see me?”

“It’s just not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

She shook her head. Not fair that she should be alive. That she should be happy. “I can’t.”

“Well, if you change your mind, I’ll be at the library at two-thirty. Okay?”

“Don’t, Ricky. I won’t go.”

“I’ll be there every day until you do.”

“It’s not worth the effort, Ricky.”

“Jaci. Don’t make me come over there.”

Why was he doing this to her? “I’ll see you when school starts, Ricky. Bye.” She hung up and left the phone on Seth’s dresser.

Two weeks since Jaci had returned home, and every day she told herself to go visit Callie’s house. And each day ended with no attempt to do so. She tried to tell herself that she was in shock, too traumatized by the ordeal. But she was a coward. She couldn’t bear to see the pain in their eyes. She couldn’t bear to face the fact that Callie died while she lived.

Not today. Jaci opened her eyes, hugging her jacket tight around her. She stomped her feet, though it only made a slight indention in the snow-packed steps.
Do it now.

Taking a deep breath, Jaci reached her hand up and pressed the doorbell.

The door opened before Jaci could change her mind. The aroma of pumpkin pie and vanilla floated out on warm air. Mrs. Nichols’ nostrils flared and her eyes widened.

“Jaci.” She wrapped Jaci up in a hug, holding her tight. “Come on in.”