Fatal Exchange (4 page)

“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 rising 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.

M
ason 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.

But somehow all of that had changed in the last six months. He still had a long way to go, but he was learning that following Christ wasn’t about religion; it was an intimacy with his Creator that had him constantly hungering for more. Moments like this made him thankful he didn’t have to forge ahead on his own strength.

Mason shifted his thoughts back to the issue at hand. He knew enough about hostage situations to realize that the initial forty-five minutes were the most dangerous. There was a good chance that more than one of the students was panicking. Emily’s role as an authority figure was going to be key. While he’d never spent a lot of time with her despite his friendship with her brother, he had seen her confidence, sincerity, and heart to make the world a better place—particularly through her job.

She would need to get past the fear in order to realize the importance of her position, draw on any emergency training she’d taken, and do what she could to ensure Rafael—and the hostages—stayed calm. The fact that she knew Rafael should play to her advantage.

He took another deep breath and redialed the number.

He might never have handled formal negotiations, but his instincts had brought him through dozens of “unofficial” negotiations, and there was no reason why he couldn’t do the same here.

The phone rang five times before Rafael finally answered.

Mason nodded at the captain. “Rafael, it’s Mason Taylor. I know about the gun and the hostages. I want to help put an end to this, so no one is hurt. Tell me how you’re doing.”

“Me? I . . . I’m fine.”

“Good. Is there anyone who needs medical attention?”

There was a long pause on the line. “No.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I know it’s been an emotional morning and you’re worried about your brother, but I’ve asked to work as the negotiator so I can help you get through this without anyone getting hurt.”

Mason was greeted again by silence. He glanced up at the captain. He needed to make some progress to prove both to him—and Charlie—that he was capable of doing this.

“Talk to me, Rafael. This morning you seemed resolved to let me help you. There are other ways to get your brother back without resorting to a hostage situation. You know I’ll help in any way I can if you give me the chance, but this way . . . this isn’t the answer.”

“Things changed. I can’t get the money they want, which means they’ll kill Eduardo, and time is running out.”

“I know you’re worried about your brother, but I promised my help earlier, and I have no intention of backing out. We’ve already got a team trying to find out where he’s being held. If you put an end to this before someone gets hurt, it will be easier for me to help you.”

“It’s too late. I brought a weapon to school, and I’m holding a bunch of students hostage. What do you think I’m already looking at? Twenty-five . . . fifty . . . life?”

“I don’t know, but I do know that if we can put a stop to this now, things will work out better for you, which is what we both want.” Mason’s jaw tensed. Any idea he’d had that it would be easy to talk Rafael down had been completely wrong. The boy was clearly determined to go through with this despite the consequences. “If you won’t walk away, what’s your plan? Tell me what you need to put an end to this.”

Rafael hesitated. “First of all, nothing heroic. Don’t send anyone in, or I’ll shoot one of the hostages.”

Hostages, not students. Not friends or fellow classmates.

“What else do you need for this to be over?” Mason continued.

“Two million dollars.”

“Two million? That’s a lot of money, Rafael. The ransom’s gone up quite substantially since we spoke this morning. You told me they’re demanding two hundred and fifty thousand for your brother.”

There was a long pause on the line. “The only way to get out of this is with enough money to not just pay off the ransom, but to give my brother, my mom, and me a second chance somewhere else.”

Mason frowned. For an intelligent boy, he wasn’t thinking clearly. It was going to be virtually impossible for him to escape this without facing serious repercussions. To think he was going to somehow disappear and sidestep the law was foolish.

“Stop for one moment,” Mason said. “Do you really think that’s going to happen? You don’t want to spend the rest of your life running. And even if you could initially escape, where are you going to go to avoid the authorities breathing down your necks?”

“That isn’t your problem.” Rafael’s pause added to the tension. “I need you to help me get the money . . . If I don’t get what I want . . . I will shoot someone. I’ve got eleven students . . .Their parents won’t miss a couple hundred grand out of their fat bank accounts . . . especially when it’ll save the lives of their children.”

Mason tried to swallow his irritation. He’d never heard Rafael sound so cold and aloof. “I’m going to need a list of the names of everyone in the room with you so we can contact the parents.”

“Fine . . . Miss Hunt will do that.”

The captain shoved a note in front of Mason.
Sign of good faith from his side.

Mason nodded. “You also need to realize, Rafael, that it’s going to take some time to get the money together. Give me a sign of good faith, and I’ll see what I can do about your demands.”

“Like what?”

“First of all, let me talk to Miss Hunt.”

There was another long pause on the line, before she answered. “Mason?”

“Emily. Are you okay?’

“Yeah. For now.”

“What about your students?”

“I’ve just got one girl . . . her heart is pounding, she’s shaking . . . can’t breathe.”