Fatal Exchange (7 page)

She was gaining. Ten yards, six . . .

He miscalculated the sharp curve in the trail and slipped in the mud. Avery landed on top of him, hard, then heard his body slam against the ground beneath them. His elbow jabbed into her ribs as momentum carried her forward. Shoving his shoulder against the ground, she ignored the throbbing pain in her side.

He tried to push her away, but she pressed her knee into his back to hold him down as Griffin pulled out his handcuffs.

“Don’t even try to move!”

It was over.

“Guess you didn’t need us, boss.”

“It’s about time the two of you showed up.”

Avery looked down at her pants, now caked in mud, and frowned. At least she’d gotten him. “He could have picked a day when it wasn’t raining outside.”

Avery turned the guy over and pulled him up onto his feet. “What’s your name?”

He turned away, jaw clenched.

“He was carrying this.” Tory unzipped the bag. “Dropped it a few feet back.”

Griffin let out a low whistle at the pile of cash inside.

“Not enough to pay off the ransom demand, but still, not a bad start.” Avery turned back to their runner. “Apparently you had the same idea we had. Except you don’t have a search warrant.”

She pulled a wallet out of the man’s back pocket and found his license. “Ben Jacobs?”

Avery’s heart quickened at the memories the name evoked. This was the man she’d been looking for the past five months. The intruder who’d broken into her house. If it weren’t for Jackson and her former partner, Mitch, who’d insisted on protection duty outside her house all night, she could have been seriously hurt. Ben Jacobs had escaped but had left DNA on a piece of broken glass—DNA that connected him with her brother Michael’s case. And with the cover-up surrounding his death.

“Ben Jacobs.” She looked at him. “What were you doing in the Cerda apartment?”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

“Oh, I think you have a lot to say. Starting with your connection to the Cerda family, a kidnapping—”

“Kidnapping? Wait a minute. I might admit to breaking into that apartment, but you’ve got it all wrong if you think I’m involved in a kidnapping.”

“I don’t think so, and I’m not even finished yet. Add to that ransom demands, drug dealings . . .” Avery gave him a penetrating look. “And the death of my brother, Michael Hunt.”

E
mily glanced up at the clock on the classroom wall and watched the second hand move in slow motion. Each minute that passed felt more like a day. She slipped off the sweater she’d exchanged earlier for her coat, draping it over the back of the chair where she sat. Despite the cool weather outside, the room felt muggy. Humid. She wished she were out shopping with Grace. Drinking hot chocolate in front of the Christmas tree with her family . . . anywhere but here.

But like so many instances in life, there was no escaping this moment.

Or the feeling that she wasn’t doing enough.

Her gaze shifted to the red-stained tile halfway down the row of desks where Philip had fallen. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could ignore the reminder, but instead, the scene replayed again and again through her mind like it had over and over the past thirty minutes. She’d watched the medics walk cautiously through the door, while Rafael pressed the barrel of the gun against Tess’s head. She’d seen the terror in her niece’s eyes, while she sat helpless to do anything. The message was clear. Rafael might not have meant to shoot Philip, but he would shoot Tess if he had to.

She’d wanted to pass on information to the medics. Com
municate something to Mason and the others that would help, but nothing she could think of was worth risking Tess’s life.

All she’d done was watch.

How many times had she sat through a cop show on television or the movies and imagined how she might react? She’d always fantasized that she’d end up being the hero of the day, but reality was proving to be completely different. Forget brave and heroic. She was terrified. If it weren’t for the students and the fact that she was the adult responsible for their safety, she’d have already lost it.

But she was out of options. Unless Mason and his team could find out who was behind Eduardo’s kidnapping, bringing a resolution to this was completely out of her hands. All they could do now was wait for the demanded ransom money to be transferred and pray that things resolved without anyone else getting hurt.

God, I
’ve never felt so out of control. Never felt so
helpless. All I can do is sit and wait and
pray that you somehow turn this mess around.

Izzie nudged Emily’s shoulder from behind her, pulling her from her thoughts. “Miss Hunt?”

Emily nodded at her to continue.

“I meant what I said earlier to Rafael. This isn’t like him.” Izzie hesitated before lowering her voice. “Something seems . . . off.”

Emily shifted around in her chair to face Izzie. She’d felt the same thing all morning, but had finally decided she was trying too hard to make excuses for Rafael. She wanted to believe that somehow he was an innocent player in all of this. It certainly wasn’t true. Still . . . “What do you mean?”

“Rafael has always been nice, Miss Hunt. He smiles at everyone. Says hi to me in the hall . . . I don’t understand how he could do this.”

“I don’t either, but he is. And as much as I’d like to think there’s somehow another explanation, he’s ultimately responsible for what’s happening in this classroom right now.”

Izzie played varsity volleyball, ran track, and had been on the homecoming court this fall. Nothing in life prepared you for something like this.

“I know, but he’s not like the loners you see on the news who end up blowing up all the kids who ignored them.”

Izzie was right. Emily had been racking her brain for the past couple of hours, trying to remember anything in Rafael’s past behavior that would explain his snapping like this. His going to Mason had proved that he had started off in the right direction. But something had happened to make him believe that this was his only option. The question was, what?

“Last week these boys from my third-period class were bothering me,” Izzie continued. “Rafael stood up for me. That’s not the kind of person who threatens to shoot you.”

Emily looked back at Rafael, who was on the phone again with Mason. Every fifteen minutes the detective called in an attempt to make headway in the negotiations and give Rafael an update.

She turned back to Izzie. “Sometimes stress does things to people. Sometimes when people feel trapped, they do things they wouldn’t normally do. He’s scared and not thinking properly.” Emily listened to her own explanation, not wanting to justify Rafael’s actions, but simply trying to make sense of what was happening.

“I noticed something else,” Izzie continued. “Maybe I’m imagining things, but . . .” She lowered her voice again. “Have you noticed how he pauses before saying something?”

“Yes, but he’s scared.”

“What if it is more than that? What if someone is telling him what to say?”

Emily felt her heart skip a beat. Izzie was speaking out loud the same thing that had been running through her mind. Except she’d dismissed the idea, thinking it was too outlandish to be true.

But if it were true, what kind of leverage would it take to have made him do something like this?

She turned to watch Rafael. His reactions, his mannerisms, his expressions. He shifted the hat on his head and continued to pace, jaw tensed. What had they missed?

“Maybe it’s just my imagination,” Izzie said, “but what if someone is forcing him to do this?”

Rafael hung up the phone and walked toward them, interrupting their conversation. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m just making sure everyone is okay and stays calm.” Emily kept her voice steady. If Izzie was right, there had to be a way to find out the truth. “They’re scared, Rafael. You know that. I don’t want anyone to get upset and panic like Philip did.”

He shoved his phone into his pocket. “As soon as I get the money, all of this will be over.”

Emily stood slowly, weighing her options. There had to be a way to test their theory. “What did Mason say?”

“He asked if everyone was okay. Told me they’re working on getting the money. That I need to be patient. That it was going to take more time. Nothing has changed. I reminded him he was running out of time.”

“It takes awhile to get that kind of money. You’re asking for a lot.” She moved down the aisle between the desks, closer to him. “I’m worried about you. This isn’t like you at all.”

“We’ve gone over this before. It’s too late to stop this.”

“I’m not talking about that right now. I know you’re worried about your brother. You know I’m here to help.”

“Go back and sit down with the rest of the class.” The
irritation was back in his voice. “As soon as I know that the money’s been transferred, this will all be over.”

Emily hesitated. The kids sat silent, tears on the faces of some of the girls, worry mixed with fear on the boys’. If there was an outside person, they would need a way to communicate with Rafael. Could they hear him? See what was going on in the classroom?

The room was wired to communicate between her classroom and the office, but she’d know if they were using that. The school administration had discussed putting in video monitors as extra security but in the end had felt it wasn’t necessary. Still, there were definitely other options. The technology was readily available. She knew Avery wore a wireless earphone in certain cases. A video camera could easily be placed in a hat.

She looked back at Rafael. No. The anger and defiance were clear in his expression. She had to be imagining things. She’d had students in the past who she’d believed would make it until they’d gotten involved with drugs or the wrong crowd. Rafael wasn’t any different. They all wanted to believe he couldn’t do something like this, but it wasn’t true. With his brother’s life on the line, he’d made the decision to save him at any cost. Even if it meant losing everything he’d worked for. As much as she wanted to believe he was somehow innocent, deep down she knew it couldn’t be true.

But if there was any chance Izzie—and her gut—were right, she couldn’t let fear stop her from helping him.

“Rafael?”

He shook his head. “Stop talking.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re only going to make things worse. Why can’t you just accept that I’m going through with this and nothing you can say will change my mind?”

“I just want to help.”

“You always think you can fix things. After-school job openings . . . a scholarship to Penn State . . . Do you think any of that is really going to make a difference in the long run?”

A scholarship to Penn State?

She must have heard him wrong. Rafael had been offered a scholarship from the University of Georgia. She caught the intensity of his gaze, the slight shake of his head, the tensing of his jaw. She blinked. Was he trying to tell her something?

She shifted her eyes to the desk in the front of the room where Rafael had left her phone when all of this started. If she was reading him right, she needed to get a message to Mason. If she was wrong, any attempt to communicate would get her—or one of her students—shot. Avery would know what to do. She, on the other hand, was a schoolteacher trained to prepare students for tests on medieval history, not in psychological profiling or how to handle a ransom situation.

God, so much is at stake here. Show
me what to do . . .

She cleared her throat. Her students were depending on her. Tess was depending on her. Her sister . . . “Rafael, there’s a box of tissues on my desk. Do you mind if I get some? Some of the girls could use them.”

“Fine.” He caught her gaze. “Just remember that I’m watching and listening to everything you say. Because everyone in this classroom—and I mean everyone—will die if the money isn’t transferred on time.”

Watching . . . listening . . . everyone in this classroom.

Everyone including Rafael?

The words gnawed at her as she walked toward the front of the room. What if he was trying to tell her something? What if someone else
was
listening? Watching. What kind of leverage were they using?

Whatever it was, they were threatening the lives of everyone
in this classroom. And if they were, she had to get a message to Mason. All she had to do was get her phone.

Emily slowly slid the box of tissues toward her, her eyes locked on the phone. If she was right, this might be her only chance. With the tissue box hiding her movements, she palmed the phone and slipped it into her pocket.