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Authors: Lisa Harris

Tags: #Drug traffic—Fiction, #FIC042060, #Women teachers—Fiction, #Students—Fiction

Fatal Exchange (20 page)

BOOK: Fatal Exchange
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31

E
mily sat down on the offered metal chair in the interrogation room and gripped the seat with her fingers. Seeing her sister had brought home further the reality of today. The numbness had spread through her, though apparently not enough to completely mask the pain.

She slid off her coat that someone had brought from the safe house. The room seemed warm. Too warm. Maybe she was coming down with something. Or maybe it was just the combined stress from today . . . and knowing today’s stress was far from over. She wished she could go back to this morning and start over again. Before Rafael had decided to walk into her classroom with a gun. Before Tess had vanished. Before she’d shot Charlie.

Mason reached for her coat, hung it on a hook on the wall behind him, then handed her one of the bottles of cold water he’d been carrying. “Can I get you anything else? If you’re hungry—”

“No. I’m fine. Thank you.”

He was feeling guilty. She could see it in his eyes. But while part of her wanted to escape, she knew she had to do this.

He sat down across from her. “You’re not in any trouble over what happened today in the parking lot. You understand that, don’t you?”

She nodded, thankful he was here. Surprised at how her
thoughts kept flipping back to the moment he’d tried to kiss her. Maybe it was just her mind looking for a diversion from the nightmare unfolding around her, but her heart told her it was more than that. Her gaze shifted to his chest. She was so grateful he was alive. It was a miracle the bullets hadn’t caused more damage. Now she was praying for another miracle.

“You know why we’re here.” Mason sat down across from her. “We need to ask you some questions about Charlie so we can find your niece, because we believe he’s connected not only to the man who was in the van manipulating Rafael but to Tess’s disappearance. We can’t question Charlie until he wakes up—and time is running out.”

She nodded. If he woke up. The last report twenty minutes ago hadn’t been good. Complications had sent Charlie back to the operating table.

“What about the man who texted Charlie in the parking lot? Can they find him?”

“He used a burn phone, so the call can’t be traced.”

“And the van?” she asked. There had to be a connection.

“The CSI team found fingerprints, but we still don’t know who they belong to.”

Panic was setting in. Tess was missing, time slipping away, and all they had were a bunch of dead ends. She put her elbows on the table and started rubbing her pounding temples, digging for any remaining threads of strength.

“Can I get you some Tylenol?”

She shook her head. “They gave me something at the hospital.”

She’d refused the offer to take something stronger that would help her sleep. As much as she’d prefer not to face what was happening, giving in to sleep at this point would only delay the inevitable. Except at the moment, she felt like she’d just walked into Rafael’s shoes. Everyone demanding information out of her she didn’t have. She didn’t want to relive her past with Charlie,
but if finding Tess meant stepping back into the past, she would have to find a way to cope.

I need you to help me through this,
Jesus. Help me cope. Help me remember.

She grabbed a package of tissues from her purse, blew her nose, and then nodded. “What do you need to know?”

Carlos cleared his throat across from her. Apparently she wasn’t the only person in this room feeling uncomfortable. “You’re here because you probably knew Charlie better than anyone else.”

She’d thought that . . . until today. “Charlie was the kind of guy who knew everyone, but you’re right. He didn’t have a lot of close friends. Work always came first.”

“Did you ever sense that something wasn’t right? That he could have been involved in something illegal?”

“Never.”

“So your breakup didn’t have anything to do with your doubting his integrity?” Carlos asked.

“No.” Emily shifted in her chair, wishing Carlos’s questions weren’t so straightforward. Clinical. “I didn’t call off the wedding because I thought he was a dirty cop, or involved in some kind of illegal activity, if that is what you mean. I loved him, but in the end, it came down to the fact that I felt that something was missing from our relationship. And it wasn’t just him.” It was that something that couldn’t be marked off on a checklist. She looked down, avoiding Mason’s gaze. “I realized I’d said yes to his proposal for the wrong reasons.”

Carlos scribbled on the paper in front of him, even though every word she said was being recorded. “Can you explain?”

Emily tapped her nails against the table. Two of her nails were chipped. She had an appointment to have them redone Saturday morning. Somehow it didn’t seem important anymore. “Charlie was—is—a charmer. He came in and swept me off
my feet. It’s still hard for me to pin down my reason, but I’ve learned that sometimes the desire to get married can become more important than the person you’re marrying. My friend Grace was planning her wedding at the time, and I got caught up in the idea of being married, instead of making sure our relationship was grounded in the right things.”

“And his reaction when you called off the wedding?”

“He was . . . upset.” Emily picked at one of the chipped nails, feeling exposed and vulnerable at the question. “I tried to make him understand, but I’m not sure he ever did.”

“When you say upset, was he ever resentful, vindictive, or angry after your breakup?”

“I . . .”

An unexpected wave of panic washed over her. She could still see him so clearly. Lying in the parking lot. Snow falling. Blood pooling beneath him. She’d caught the fear in his eyes. Felt his hand gripping her arm when she’d tried to ask him about Tess.

I don’t
know what to do here, Jesus. I thought I was
a good judge of character.

“I know this is hard.” Mason leaned forward, the concern in his eyes obvious. “We just need to consider every angle.”

“No. He never seemed angry. Just quiet. Hurt.”

“What about his family?”

“His mother lives in an assisted-living complex in northern Florida near his sister.”

“Are they close?”

“He flew down to see them a couple times a year. His father died about five years ago.”

“What does his sister do?”

“She works for a real estate company.”

“Did you ever meet her?”

“Once. She had a second trip planned, but canceled when the wedding was called off.”

Carlos jotted down another note before looking back up at her. “Did Charlie ever talk to you about going away? Disappearing?”

You could have come
with me, Em. We would have been free. Just you
and me.

“In the parking lot today . . . when the officers were trying to get the bleeding to stop . . . he started babbling about how we could have gone away together with the money.”

Another memory resurfaced. Charlie had taken her out to dinner at one of her favorite restaurants for her birthday. She’d been wearing a pink vintage cocktail dress she’d impulsively bought online. “There was another time.” Had the signs been there all along? “He asked me if I’d ever thought of getting away from it all and moving overseas to some exotic locale like Argentina or Madagascar. I laughed, dismissing the idea as nothing more than idle talk. I reminded him that I was a southern girl, through and through, and while I enjoyed traveling, living overseas wasn’t on my bucket list. At the time, I didn’t take his comments seriously.”

Emily wrapped her fingers around the water bottle. Questioning people might work for their line of work, but she needed to see things from a different angle. “Can I ask a couple questions?”

Carlos glanced at Mason. “Of course.”

“You said Avery’s office and possibly her home was bugged?”

“Ben Jacobs confirmed he put a bug in her house.”

“My sister was determined to prove Michael wasn’t the department mole. What if he realized she was about to figure out the truth? That Charlie was the leak, not Michael.”

Mason nodded. “Charlie feared he was going to get caught, knew he needed to disappear, and saw the ransom opportunity as his last chance to cash in.”

“Except from the very beginning things didn’t go as planned.” Her mind organized the situation like the World History timeline hanging on her classroom wall. “Charlie was the department
negotiator and assumed he would be in control of the situation. And he would have been until you told the captain you knew Rafael and believed you could get through to him. Things continued to go wrong when I told you I believed Rafael was being controlled.”

“He panics, realizing that his plans are falling apart.”

Carlos tapped his pen against the desk. “Faking Rafael’s death was Charlie’s idea. He convinced the captain it was the only way to keep him safe.”

“Why?” Emily asked.

“I’m assuming he saw Rafael as a loose end and thought he’d have more control at a safe house than the station.”

“Rafael told me he saw a man watching him when he picked up the gun at the park,” Emily said. “Said he thought he could identify him, which wasn’t proof of involvement, but it might have brought up questions.”

“Or,” Mason added, “he might have thought Rafael knew where the rest of Eduardo’s drug money was. He’d already sent Ben Jacobs to search for it in the Cerda apartment, so he believed the boy had it.”

Emily drew in a slow, deep breath. If Charlie died, they might never know.

“Looks like another kink in Charlie’s plan was the safe house.” Mason leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “Since I knew Rafael, the captain assigned me to take you to the safe house and question him, which cut his access to Rafael. He realized he wasn’t going to get his money. His partner was on the run—either about to get caught or had been caught—but he still had his eye on that two million, and he wasn’t going to let it slip away. So he took a chance and grabbed Tess.”

“Which brings us back to the man in the van,” Emily said. “We can hope he knows where Tess is, because right now, besides Charlie, he’s our only connection.”

But they had no idea where the man was. Which meant no matter how they looked at the situation, they were still going in circles.

“Let’s go back to the attack at the safe house,” Carlos said. “If he was an associate of Charlie, there’s a chance you’ve seen him before. Was there anything familiar about him?”

“I don’t know. He wore a ski mask and long sleeves.”

Emily closed her eyes. She didn’t want to relive the feel of his grip on her shoulder. His warm breath against her skin. There had been something familiar about him, but she couldn’t place him. All she did know was that if it hadn’t been for Rafael, he would have killed her.

She felt her pulse speed up and she reached for the water bottle Mason had given her, trying to relax. She twisted open the cap and took a couple gulps.

“Think, Emily. He’s our only link to Tess right now.” Mason reached out and grasped her hand. “Did he have any identifying features? Anything—”

She jerked her hand away and shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore, because I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

Mason signaled to Carlos. “Give us ten minutes alone.”

32

E
mily’s gaze dropped. Guilt surfaced. She thought she could do this. She thought she could walk in, tell them everything she knew about Charlie, and in turn help them find Tess. She’d imagined herself in her sister’s shoes, playing the role of the hero who swept in and saved the day. She’d just never imagined it would be emotional.

“I knew this would be hard, but—”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about. You just need a break. No recorders. No videos.”

She fought back the tears, avoiding Mason’s gaze. “I’m still trying to absorb everything. I trusted Charlie. Promised to marry him. I don’t know how I didn’t see the truth behind who he really was.”

He sat patiently across from her, waiting for her to pull herself together. She wanted him to wake her up and tell her she’d been having a bad dream. That this was somehow just one big mistake. But life didn’t work that way. Sometimes bad things happened and you had to stick around and pick up the pieces.

“I know this is hard, but I’ve watched you today.” Mason reached across the table and took her hands. This time she didn’t pull away. “You faced a tough situation and didn’t panic. You
held that classroom together today for those kids. They’re safe largely because of you.”

“Tess isn’t.”

“We’re going to find her.”

He held on to her hands, rubbing her palms with his thumbs. She’d come to look at him in a new light today. He’d become more than just the man who’d become a solid, secure presence in her life. More than a place of safety in the midst of a storm. He possessed that something she’d never been able to quantify on a checklist. Become the man she wanted to get to know. But he’d brought her here to help him figure things out. Not to let distractions tug on her or to fall apart because she’d been betrayed. She needed to focus. For Tess.

She drew in a deep breath and fought to hold on to her remaining reserve of strength. “I have more questions about what happened today.”

“Okay.”

“Who do they think was in that van manipulating Rafael?”

“The lab just confirmed that the fingerprints belong to a Mexican drug cartel agent.”

She pressed her lips together, wishing she’d paid as much attention to work-related conversations between Avery and her father as she did to grading term papers. “So what did Charlie have to do with him?”

“The cartel pays millions every month for corrupt cops to look the other way, and unfortunately their bribes aren’t limited to officials south of the border.”

If she hadn’t seen what Charlie had done in the mall parking lot, she never would have believed he was capable of this kind of betrayal. But those were feelings she’d have to deal with later.

“We’re still trying to put all of the pieces together,” Mason continued, “but we believe this agent was bribing Charlie in exchange for not reporting illegal cartel activities and helping
to keep the department one step behind. The cartel agent is suspected to be involved in a string of unsolved murders your sister has been working on the past four months. He’s new in the area, brutal and dangerous as he tries to gain more territory.”

Emily worked to make sense of it all. “So he uses someone like Eduardo, who’s been skimming money off the top of his profits, to teach a lesson—both to Eduardo and to those working for him.”

“Exactly.”

“This cartel agent. Why can’t you bring him in?”

“We have a name and his fingerprints in at least three separate crimes, but we don’t know what he looks like. We found the same fingerprints in the van, but there is no match in the system. These agents working for the cartel aren’t US citizens, don’t have visas, and are very good at going back and forth across the border undetected.”

“What’s his name?”

“He goes by a bunch of names. Scorpion, Fuego Rojo—or Red Fire—and Nerón.”

Nerón.

A memory snapped to the forefront. “That name is familiar.”

“Which one?”

“Nerón.”

“What do you remember?”

Emily templed her hands in front of her, digging for the details. “It was a Saturday morning, a couple months before I called off the wedding, Charlie and I had arranged to meet for breakfast. I arrived thirty minutes early, thinking I’d order coffee and read, but Charlie was already there, talking with a man I’d never seen before.”

“Was that strange?”

“Not really. Charlie was friends with half the community. What struck me as odd was the intensity of their conversation. I remember stopping halfway to their table, unsure of whether
I should interrupt or give them a few more minutes to talk, because I couldn’t tell if they were fighting or just talking about something serious.”

“What about the man? His build. Any distinguishing marks?”

“He was Hispanic. Short, but built solid, like he spent a lot of time working out. Five eight or nine. Broad shoulders. I heard Charlie call him Nerón. He left before I got to the table.”

“Which makes him the same build and height as the man who attacked the safe house today.”

“There was something else.” Emily pressed her palms against the table and hesitated. “It’s probably going to sound crazy, but I don’t know that I would have even remembered him otherwise.”

“Sometimes it’s the smallest clue that ends up turning a case around.”

“I don’t know if I can explain it, because it was just a feeling. I even remember telling myself at the time that I was being silly. I knew Charlie had contacts—informants—who weren’t exactly law-abiding citizens, but I also knew it was a part of his job. I figured this man was one of them. But as he left, he walked past me, and there was something about his eyes . . . It sounds stupid now.”

“It’s not stupid. What happened?”

“He looked at me as he walked past, and as he walked by, it was as if he could see right through me. I’ll never forget his face. The restaurant temperature was set at seventy degrees plus, but I had chills running down my spine.”

“Did you ever see him again?”

“No, and I never mentioned what happened to Charlie.”

“So you don’t know anything more about him.”

Emily shook her head.

“But you could identify him if you saw him?”

“Definitely.” Emily leaned forward, grasping on to the only lead they had at the moment. “It has to be him, Mason. The man in the
van manipulating Rafael. The man who took Tess, then broke into the safe house. The man who’s supposed to meet Charlie tonight. Have they figured out where he was planning to meet Charlie?”

“Tory thinks they were going to meet at the Black Tap. It’s a neighborhood bar with suspected connections to the cartel. We’re planning to take a team in there and try to find him.”

Her mind was still spinning. “I could go there. Identify him.”

“Whoa . . . slow down.” Mason undid the lid to his water bottle and leaned back in his chair. “The Black Tap isn’t a place you’d want to be, trust me.”

“All I would have to do is sit in a corner and watch. I wouldn’t have to come in contact with him.”

“It’s too risky. This man has already killed or ordered the deaths of four people we know of, which is probably just the tip of the iceberg.”

She didn’t feel brave or heroic, but if there was something she could do to help find Tess, she’d do it. “If the man I saw with Charlie is the same man, I can identify him, Mason. I can find who took Tess. No one else can do that.”

He shook his head. “There is a problem. He would recognize you.”

“Maybe, but you’re an undercover cop. Don’t you use disguises?”

“Sometimes, but—”

She shoved back the chair and headed for the door.

“Wait a minute, Emily. Where are you going?”

“I can’t just sit around and do nothing.” She turned back to him and caught his worried gaze. “We need to talk to Avery’s team. I have an idea.”

———

“Emily . . . wait.”

Mason followed Emily into the bullpen where Avery’s team was busy checking out leads on Tess’s disappearance. The fear
he’d seen in Emily’s eyes had been replaced with a stark determination, which scared him. She might come from a family of cops, might be smart and capable, but taking on a man who didn’t think twice about torturing and dismembering an enemy was a different thing altogether. And he was afraid he knew exactly what her idea was.

“I believe I can ID your cartel agent.”

Carlos leaned against his desk, arms folded across his chest, his frown pronounced. “You’ve seen him?”

“Emily believes she saw him once while she was with Charlie,” Mason said. “But we’re not a hundred percent sure it’s the same person.”

Carlos glanced at his watch. “We’ve already got a team planning to stake out the Black Tap tonight.”

“But you can’t identify him.”

Mason shook his head. “You’re not going in there, Emily. It’s too risky.”

“It might be risky, but if I can identify him, it would be worth it. He might know where Tess is, and as far as I know, he’s our only lead right now until Charlie gains consciousness.” Emily moved in front of Tory. “Avery once told me you were a genius with disguises. If I go undercover, he’ll never recognize me.”

“It might work,” Tory said. “We could change your hair color, add a pair of glasses—”

“Undercover? Wait a minute.” Mason frowned. This was not going to happen. “No way. Maybe in a surveillance van, but she’s not going into that bar, Tory. She’s a schoolteacher, and there’s a man out there who already tried to kill her. Let her pick him out from a lineup, or from a video feed from the back of a van, but she’s not going into that bar.”

“Excuse me.” Emily held up her hand and turned back to Mason. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m standing right here. I want to do this, and this is the easiest and quickest way.”

“She has a point, Mason.”

He still wasn’t buying into this absurd idea and he knew the captain—and her father—would agree with him. “I know you’re worried about your niece, but—”

“But what?” She folded her arms across her chest. “Do you have any other ideas to find Tess? I’m volunteering to go in there, with your team, sit down, and identify him. Nothing else.”

Mason looked away, irritated over the fact that, absurd as it was, her logic was right. Time was running out and she was their only eyewitness at the moment. But he’d almost lost her today, and he didn’t want to go there again.

His gut told him she could handle the situation. That she’d never be in direct contact with the man. Never be in danger. His heart told him otherwise. Told him to get her as far away from danger as possible. He caught the determination in her eyes and knew he wasn’t going to win this round.

“We can’t send you into the Black Tap dressed like that.”

Emily looked down at her gray sweater dress and tights, still slightly damp from the snow. “Why not?”

“Have you ever been to the Black Tap?”

“No.”

“It’s not exactly located in the classiest part of town.”

Carlos nodded. “He has a point. You’d stand out like a fish out of water.”

“Which leads me back to my original protests of why I don’t think you should go in there,” Mason said.

“Avery was right, boys. You both forget that while I might be a white-collar crime expert, I have a few hidden talents from back in the day, and disguises are my specialty.” Tory’s smile broadened. “What do you say, Emily?”

“I say let’s do it.”

“Mason, clear it with the captain while I start working my magic.”

Thirty minutes later, Emily glanced into the mirror, barely recognizing herself. The blonde wig, shoulder length and pulled back into a ponytail, completely covered her red hair. A pair of skinny jeans and a white tank top had been paired with a trendy jean jacket, cat-eye glasses, and leather boots. Definitely not her normal vintage look. Tory had even insisted on a fake flower tattoo running down the side of her neck to complete the look. Mama would cringe if she saw her like this.

“If you ever need a second career, you could make it in Hollywood.” Emily spun around in front of the team. “My sister was right. You’re good, Tory. Very good.”

Mason put on an Atlanta Braves hat, then grabbed his leather jacket. “I have the go-ahead from the captain, but if you’re really going to do this, there are a few rules.”

“Fine.” Emily tugged on the ponytail. Her own nerves were in a tight bundle, but this was something she knew she had to do. “You’ll have my back. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll go in there with me as my date. As soon as you ID the man, I’m whisking you out of there. You don’t make eye contact with him or speak to him. Nothing.”

“I promise.” Emily couldn’t help but smile at his rules. There was something charming about the way he fretted over her. She could get used to his chivalry.

“One more thing. You’ll be carrying a cell phone with a hidden audio transmitter . . . just in case.”

She raised her brow, those bundled nerves trying to take over. “Just in case of what?”

“Think of it as an all-purpose safety net in case something goes wrong. It can be used like a tracking device in case we get separated, which we won’t because you’re not leaving my side.”

“You don’t think it will come to that, do you?”

“No, but there are never guarantees when dealing with criminals. I’ll say this one last time. You don’t have to do this. It’s not too late to back out.”

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