Fatal Exchange (6 page)

She was responsible.

She swallowed hard. She couldn’t give in to the fear threatening to overwhelm her. She had to find a way to stop this.

“Izzie, I need you to help Amie relax like I showed her. Rafael, I need you to call Mason.”

Rafael’s phone began to ring before he had a chance to respond. They’d heard the shot.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” Rafael picked up the phone, but didn’t answer the call. “He shouldn’t have come at me like that.”

“I don’t care if you planned for this to happen or not. It did happen.” Emily pressed harder against the wound with one hand while fumbling to find Philip’s pulse with the other. “Only you can put a stop to this, Rafael, but now it might be too late.” She rocked back on her heels to begin CPR. Her body shook. “I think Philip’s dead.”

P
ick
up
your
cell
phone
,
Rafael
.
Come
on
 . . .

Mason pushed redial and listened to the phone ring. It had been an hour and a half since he’d heard Emily say “
He’s got a gun
.” Fifteen minutes since he last spoke with Rafael. Sixty seconds since they heard a shot fired.

He stared out the window of the school’s main office where they’d set up the command post. The tension of the morning continued to close in around him like the heavy dark clouds moving in across the city carrying today’s predicted rain. The weather mirrored his mood. Frustrated. Drained. Emotional.

He ended the unanswered call for a third time and turned to the captain. “He’s not answering.”

Mason pressed redial, then tugged at a loose thread on the bottom edge of his T-shirt. When he wasn’t on the phone, Charlie and the captain had continued to prep him on a string of basics from Negotiation 101. Make the hostage taker work for what he wants. If you do give in to a demand, ensure you get something in return. And all of this while avoiding a violent confrontation. They’d been right when they said it was all about psychology. His role was to somehow convince Rafael to release his hostages without anyone getting hurt.

And now there was a possibility that someone had just been shot.

But when it came down to it, no hostage situation played out strictly by the book. Like in working undercover, he was going to have to go with his gut as well as with the so-called rules.

What’s going on in
there, Rafael?

While rushing negotiations in a hostage situation could prove costly, they were ready for an assault. He’d watched the other teams in action as they’d set up the command post. A team had swept the school for secondary shooters and had found nothing. Which meant everyone was focused on Rafael. The Special Response Team, the tactical team, the negotiation team. Men crouched behind ballistic riot shields, snipers waited for their orders—

“Call him again.”

Mason nodded at the captain’s order. Ten seconds later, Rafael picked up.

“I shot him.”

“Okay. Tell me what happened.” Mason felt adrenaline rush through him. If they had a dead body in there . . .

“It’s Philip. I didn’t want to shoot him, but he gave me no choice.” Rafael’s words came rapid and uneven. “He came at me. Grabbed my arm. The gun went off.”

“Rafael, I need you to slow down.” Mason knew it was crucial for Rafael to stay calm. Even if the shooting had been accidental, he was clearly agitated. That could, in turn, up the chances that someone else would get hurt. “I understand you didn’t mean to shoot him. Is anyone else injured?”

“No. Just Philip.”

“I know this is difficult, and sometimes things happen that none of us can anticipate, but I need you to let me help you. We need to ensure that no one else gets hurt. Tell me Philip’s condition. Is he breathing?”

“I don’t know. I think he’s dead. He . . . he’s not moving. He’s just lying there . . .”

Rafael sounded like a scared little boy. Alone. Panicked. They needed to get him out of there.

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t know.”

There was a long pause on the line.

Mason signaled to the captain. “Get the paramedics in there with a gurney on standby outside the classroom and have them wait for the go ahead.” He turned back to the phone. “Rafael? I’m going to send in some medical help for Philip.”

“I know what’ll happen if someone comes in here and takes him. There are snipers outside this room. If I let anyone in, they’ll kill me.”

“Rafael, you know I don’t want that to happen, but Philip needs medical help. I’ll do everything I can to help you as well. But I need your cooperation on this.”

“Why? I told you I was serious. Maybe now you and the others will believe me.”

“I understand your frustration, but I need you to do something for me. Let me speak to Emily, so I can find out how Philip is. Can you do that?”

Again silence.

“Rafael. Please. Let me speak to Emily. I need to understand how serious Philip’s injury is. If you’ll just let me speak to her for a moment.”

“Fine. I’ll put it on speakerphone, but don’t . . . don’t try to send any coded messages. I’m right here listening.”

A moment later he heard her voice. “Mason?”

“Emily.” Mason let out a slow breath of relief. “Rafael said Philip is dead.”

“I thought he was, but he’s not. His pulse is weak, and he’s lost a lot of blood. He hit his head when he fell. I’m using a
sweatshirt to put pressure where he was shot, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“You’re doing fine, Emily. Stopping the bleeding is the first thing you have to do.” He tethered in his own emotion, knowing the importance of keeping his voice calm. Feeling the strong desire to protect her and everyone in that classroom. “What about you and the other students? Is everyone else okay?”

“For the moment. The kids are scared but not hurt.”

Mason caught the edge of alarm in her voice, but the determination was still there, which was good. She wasn’t giving in to the fear or giving up.

The captain leaned against the office counter where he was listening in on the conversation and leveled his eyes on Mason. “You need to get that boy out of there.”

“I know.” Mason turned back to the phone. “Rafael, I need you to listen to me. I’m sending in a stretcher and two paramedics. If Philip doesn’t get the medical help he needs, he could die. I know you don’t want that to happen.”

“No . . . I can’t. No one is going anywhere.”

“Rafael, listen to me. As a friend. I don’t want Philip to die. You don’t want him to die. Right now the DA can charge you with felony kidnapping. You don’t need murder added to that. This isn’t who you are.”

Rafael’s breathing sounded forced and rapid. “I didn’t mean to shoot him. You have to understand that. I didn’t mean to . . . but I will do whatever it takes to get the money and save my brother.”

“I understand you didn’t mean to shoot him, but you don’t need to make things worse by letting him die.”

“Fine . . . I’m willing to let Philip go so he can get help, but I expect some things in return.”

“What do you want?”

“Anyone in the hallway needs to be moved outside so when I open the door no one rushes in.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll have someone standing in front of me the whole time. If anyone tries to take over the classroom, I’ll shoot them.”

Mason’s jaw clenched. If another shot was fired, they might not be so lucky this time. “I’m going to stay on the phone with you, okay? I’ve given the order for the medics to go in now. You need to unlock the door and let them in.”

“There’s another one of the girls,” Emily broke in. “Amie. She needs medical attention.”

“No. She isn’t a part of the deal.”

“Rafael. Please.” Mason fought for control. “You know Amie’s having trouble breathing. Let her go with Philip.”

Another long pause. “No. I’ll let Philip leave. No one else.”

The captain gave the signal that the medics were ready to go in.

“The medics are at the door, Rafael. You need to let them in.”

Mason swallowed his frustration at Rafael’s refusal to let Amie go. As soon as the medics were out, they would be debriefed, along with Philip once he was able. Gaining valuable information about the situation inside the classroom would be crucial if they ended up having to launch a tactical assault in order to rescue those inside.

Ten minutes later, the medics were clear.

“I’ve held up my end of the deal and let Philip go,” Rafael said through the speakerphone, “but just so you know I’m serious, I’m gonna make another demand.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m setting a new deadline. You’ve now got until noon to get me my money, or I’ll shoot somebody else. I’m tired of playing games . . . of feeling like I’m getting the runaround.”

“Rafael, you have to understand that it’s taking time to get the money. Hurting someone else won’t change that.”

Rafael ignored his advice. “Make sure the captain and the rest of the negotiation team know that the new countdown starts now.”

A
very banged on the front door of the Cerdas’ apartment, where she stood beside Griffin and Tory. Five miles south off of I-85, the complex was located in a fairly quiet neighborhood, surrounded by local businesses and dense groves of trees.

She took in a deep breath, wishing she could escape the reality that Tess had been on the list of hostages. Talking with Jackson on the phone had helped calm her fears, but separating her professional self from her personal life was proving to be impossible. Ten minutes ago, they’d received the call that one of the students had been shot. That student could have died. That student could have been Tess.

Staying busy was the only way she knew to keep going. In spite of not being able to track down Mrs. Cerda, they hadn’t had any problems getting a search warrant. They needed answers, needed to find Eduardo and his mother along with anything that might tie Eduardo to the drug cartel.

Avery studied the signs of yesterday’s break-in on the doorframe, then knocked again. No answer.

Where are you, Mrs. Cerda?

An older woman started up the open stairwell with a load of groceries. A second team was on its way now to canvass the
apartments. Someone had to have seen something the night Eduardo had been kidnapped.

Avery turned to the apartment manager who’d come with them. “When was the last time you saw Mrs. Cerda, Ms. Odell?”

“You can call me Pepper.” The bleached-blonde manager, who couldn’t have been a day over twenty-five, grinned.

“Okay . . . Pepper. When did you last see her?”

“Saturday—no—Sunday. Last night. She was bringing a basket of laundry back to her apartment. Elaine is a sweet woman. She has a lot on her plate, but she pays her rent on time and never causes any problems.”

“What about this morning?” Tory asked.

“This morning . . . I saw Rafael leave to drive her to work like he does every morning. Is she in trouble?”

“We just need to speak to her. What about the boys, any problems from them?”

“Not Rafael. He’s a good kid. Never causes any trouble.”

“And Eduardo?” Avery asked.

“A bit rougher around the edges than his brother. He’s always coming and going at strange times. I don’t think his mother knows about it.”

“And you didn’t think you should tell her?”

Pepper shrugged a shoulder. “Wasn’t my business.”

“Go ahead and open the door, please.”

“Are you sure I won’t get into any trouble? I mean, I watch those cop shows on TV, but—”

Avery held up the warrant. “You’re not going to get into any trouble.”

Pepper slid the key into the lock, turned the handle to open the door, then stepped aside.

“If you’ll stay outside, ma’am, we’ll take it from here.” Avery stepped into the darkened apartment foyer with Tory and Griffin, then shut the door behind them. “Mrs. Cerda?”

Avery breathed in the smell of a vanilla candle as she moved from the entryway into the open dining, living, and kitchen area. An old leather couch with cracked armrests, a coffee table with a neat pile of magazines. Curtains half open. Beyond the living room was a bar that opened up to the kitchen.

“Spread out and check the place,” Avery said.

She started for the second bedroom, Glock raised, senses on alert, while Griffin and Tory checked the rest of the apartment.

“Clear.”

“Clear.”

“Clear.”

Thirty seconds later, they met back in the living room. A cat walked into the room and nudged its chin against Avery’s leg. She reached down to stroke its back, wondering if someone had forgotten to feed it this morning. Tess loved animals. Strays in particular. Avery had lost count of how many she’d brought home to temporarily foster with their own eclectic collection of Tiger, their Birman cat; Mr. Whiskers, the hamster; three female mice; and an African clawed frog . . . Her eyes watered at the thought.

“Avery?”

She glanced up at Tory. “I’m okay.” Or at least she would be when all this was over.

She drew in a deep breath and pushed aside her emotions for the moment. She’d have time to deal with them later. After Tess was safe and sound with her at home.

She shifted her thoughts back to the apartment. Before Ethan had died, she’d have seen the space as nothing more than low-income housing where the father had walked out and the mother was rarely home to raise her children.

Today, she saw signs of a woman who worked long hours and struggled to make enough to pay the bills and keep food on the table. She understood all too well the pressures of meeting the constant demands to ensure that her sons had what they needed.

Avery tried to swallow the guilt that followed. Her last words to Tess had been in anger. Apparently Mrs. Cerda wasn’t the only person finding it difficult to balance work and motherhood.

God, I can’t
get through this on my own. I need you to
take the lead and show me what’s here. Show
me a way to get my daughter back . . .

She nodded at Tory and Griffin. “Tory and I will start with the boys’ bedroom. Griffin, take the master bedroom.”

Griffin glanced at Tory with a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Sure you ladies won’t be needing my protection?”

“Right.” Tory laughed. “I think we can handle ourselves.”

In the boys’ room, Avery started going through the large desk next to the window, picturing what had transpired the night the cartel had taken Eduardo out of the apartment. She’d conducted interviews in the Torres cases, with family members who’d experienced a similar terror as Rafael and his family had, and she knew the probable scenario. The intruders had broken in during the night wearing dark clothing and ski masks, and carrying assault rifles. They’d dragged Eduardo from his bed, duct taped his hands behind him, and beat him while Rafael and his mother watched and begged for them to spare Eduardo’s life.

You’ve got thirty-
six hours to come up with two hundred and fifty
thousand dollars if you want to see him alive . . .

According to Mason, they might as well have asked for the moon. Avery shook her head. She needed a distraction from the images playing in her mind.

She glanced up at Tory. “You know he has a crush on you.”

“Griffin?”

“Who else would I be talking about?”

Tory shook her head. “Crushes are for sixth graders, Avery.”

“Maybe.” Avery lowered her voice. “But I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Overly attentive and helpful. He brings you coffee most mornings, offers to buy you lunch at least once a
week, and is always trying to make you laugh. How else would you interpret it?”

“I don’t.” Tory closed the closet door with a little more force than necessary. “You’re imagining things.”

Avery pulled open the top drawer of one of the dressers. “Am I?”

“We work together. I find his company . . . entertaining. It’s like working with one of my brothers. That’s it.”

“You’ve got four brothers. Somehow I don’t think you need another one.”

Tory chuckled as she opened the other closet door. “You’ve become a romantic, Avery.”

Maybe she had, but Levi Griffin had an exemplary record as a cop and was the perfect southern gentleman when it came to the women in his life. Add to that his charming dark looks, boyish grin, and a hint of a mystery about his past that only the captain knew about, and she could see how he had women turning their heads.

Avery dug into the next drawer, jammed with socks and T-shirts. The routine nature of an initial search helped numb the worry and keep her mind off reality. The tech team would come in behind them and do a full sweep, taking computers and electronics back to the lab and dusting for fingerprints, followed by the K9 drug team that was on their way. But they needed something now.

A gnawing sense of guilt returned as she continued searching. She knew how hard it was to be a single mom, and she not only had a good-paying job but a family who was there to pick up the slack when she couldn’t be.

From what she knew about Elaine Cerda, the woman had neither. No husband or boyfriend. Low-paying, minimum-wage jobs . . . Sometimes life simply wasn’t fair. Ironic how they were now both facing similar situations with their children.

Avery glanced across the room at Tory. “I’m realizing how much we have in common, Elaine Cerda and I. Her son held for ransom, while her other son holds my daughter.”

Both of them faced a mother’s worst nightmare. Their children’s lives were in danger. Avery felt the bottom of the drawer for anything hidden, then shoved it shut.

“I know this is hard on you—you don’t have to do it.” Tory stood up and rested her hands against her hips. “You can go back to the station, back to the school, to your parents’ house, wherever would help you get through this. We’d all support your decision.”

Avery shook her head. Nothing could help her get through this. “I need to be here. But what makes it even harder is that Tess and I had a fight this morning.” She’d always prided herself for not bringing her personal problems to work—just like she tried not to bring her work problems home. “I never like to send her off to school mad, but I needed to get to the office early for a meeting and we were running late. My mom offered to take her to school.”

“No matter what happened between the two of you, Tess loves you and knows you love her.”

“I know.” Avery twisted her hips, trying to relieve the ache in the small of her back. “But how does anyone handle the fact that your child is in danger, and there is nothing you can do to stop it?”

“I don’t know, beyond trying to take one moment at a time without letting your mind settle on the worst possible outcome.”

Avery finished going through the bottom drawer of the dresser, digging through contents, then feeling around the sides and top for anything that might be hidden. For now, staying focused on her job was better than sitting around worrying. At least she was doing something. If Mason couldn’t convince Rafael to stand down, finding Eduardo was their only other
option. She’d deal with her emotions once this was all over. And Tess was safe.

“Anything?” Tory interrupted her thoughts.

Avery shook her head. “Nothing.”

No drugs, no cash, nothing that pointed to Eduardo’s involvement with the cartel.

Griffin entered the room. “I just spoke to Carlos. He finished checking footage from the street cams around the hotel where Mrs. Cerda works.”

“And?” Avery pressed.

“Rafael was telling the truth. They spotted his car dropping off his mother at the corner just after seven.”

“Can they tell where she went after she got out?” Tory asked.

“She headed toward the service entrance of the hotel, but once Rafael drove away, she doubled back down the main road, then took a side street. After that, the camera loses her.”

Avery tugged off one of the gloves she’d been wearing. “What was she doing?”

“It’s impossible to say,” Griffin said. “Maybe she was contacted by Eduardo’s kidnappers with further instructions. Or maybe she decided to contact a rich relative.”

“So all we really know is that she didn’t go in to work this morning. What about her phone logs?” Avery asked. “Did someone call her this morning before Rafael dropped her off?”

“Carlos is checking that right now, but if it’s the same person who called Rafael, they used a burn phone and the number will be impossible to trace.”

Technology had its advantages, except when it ended up giving the bad guys the edge.

“So Rafael drops her off at work, and then what?” Tory leaned against the dresser. “Not only did she not go in to work, Rafael didn’t meet Mason as planned. So between his talking to Mason at seven and his pulling a gun on a roomful
of high school students an hour later, something had to have changed.”

“Maybe not.” Avery spoke her thoughts. “His brother is being held for ransom, and he knows he and his mom can’t pay it. What would you do if you couldn’t pay a ransom and knew your brother’s life was on the line?”

“I wouldn’t pull a gun at school,” Griffin said.

“Rafael was threatened not to go to the police, so maybe he started to regret his decision to talk to Mason,” Tory added. “In his mind, he was out of options.”

Griffin shook his head, clearly not buying into the theory. “I can maybe understand the option of taking his class hostage crossing his mind, but most people wouldn’t actually follow through with it. Certainly not a kid like Rafael.”

Something crashed in the back of the apartment.

Avery pulled her Glock out from beneath her jacket. “Someone’s in here.” She headed out of the room. They couldn’t have missed someone . . .

He came from the master bedroom, carrying a duffel bag, and sprinted toward the front door with Griffin right behind him.

“Freeze!”

The man turned and plowed into Griffin, knocking him down before running out the front door.

“Go . . . go . . . go!” Griffin yelled.

Avery flew out the front door behind the suspect, ducked beneath the stairwell to the cement steps leading outside. He was already a good ten yards ahead of her before he was forced to slow down to hurdle the shoulder-high chain-link fence on the other side of the sidewalk that surrounded the property. It was raining again, leaving the ground soft and slick.

She shoved all worried thoughts of Tess and Emily aside, leaving just enough to act as motivation to catch the guy. They
needed to know why he’d been in the apartment and what he knew—if anything—about their case.

She jumped off the last step, holstering her gun as she crossed the sidewalk, then propelled herself over the fence, landing on all fours. Her knee skidded across the wet grass on the other side, ripping her pants, but she stood back up and started running after him down one of the wooded trails behind the apartment complex.

She had to stop this guy.

Her lungs burned, legs ached, but she pushed through the pain. She’d missed her run this morning and hadn’t planned to make it up.

I don’t know
that I’m up for this today, Lord.