Paying the Piper

by Simon Wood

  The snide remark dug deep. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Scott asked.

  “After Nicholas Rooker was killed, did the Piper get in touch with you?”

  “Don’t you think I would have contacted you?”

  “I don’t know. You were pretty lax about picking up the phone the first time.”

  “Jesus Christ. Do you really think I wanted that kid to die?”

  Sheils’s hands balled into fists at his sides. “You know what? I don’t know. You seemed as hung up on being a headline as on writing them. I’m not saying you wanted the kid dead, Scott, but if it bleeds, it leads. Isn’t that what you bottom-feeders say?”

  “You’re unreal, Sheils. Do you know that?”

  “Enough about me. Back to the Piper. Has he ever contacted you?”

  “Why would he?”

  “You got his story wrong. Maybe he wanted it told the right way.”

  “Okay, say he did, why kidnap Sammy now?”

  Sheils smirked. “It would make for a great publicity stunt for you. Ever finish that book on the Piper?”

  Scott lost his fingernail grip on his temper and threw a punch. Sheils easily sidestepped Scott’s fist, but not his charge. Scott dropped a shoulder and drove it deep into Sheils’s stomach, smashing him into the countertop, its edge cutting into his back like a knife. Sheils yelled out, then thumped a fist down on Scott’s spine between his shoulder blades to loosen the reporter’s grip. He trapped Scott’s head under his arm and peeled him off.

  Jane ripped open the kitchen door. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Sheils held Scott in place while Brannon appeared in the doorway behind Jane.

  “Grow up!” Jane shouted. “Settle your grudges later. My son—our son—is in danger. Deal with that first.”

  Sheils released Scott. He slumped onto all fours.

  Guerra forced her way past Brannon. “Sir, we’ve got an incoming call.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The brawl forgotten, Sheils ushered Scott and Jane back into the living room. There was no fancy equipment on show; Scott and Jane just had to answer the phone. FBI technicians were monitoring all calls from the division office, though a second handset had been plugged in to allow Sheils to listen.

  Scott looked around for Peter. He was with Guerra in the dining room. He’d taken to the woman and was acting like he was her sidekick, which was great. It kept him involved and out of the way of the more difficult decisions.

  The phone rang again. Scott went to answer it, but Sheils stopped him.

  “Let Jane answer it. Remember what I told you about keeping the conversation going,” Sheils said.

  “Yeah, we know,” Scott said. He didn’t want to lose the call if it was the Piper.

  “Brannon, you’re playing the part of the relative,” Sheils said.

  Brannon nodded.

  “We’ll do our best,” Scott said to Jane and smiled at her. She smiled back, but it broke in the making.

  The phone rang again.

  “Jane, if he asks for Scott, tell him he’s too upset and hand the phone to Agent Brannon. Okay?”

  Jane nodded nervously at Sheils, then snatched up the phone. “Hello?”

  Scott leaned in next to Jane to listen.

  “May I speak to Scott?”

  The familiar sound of the Piper’s doctored voice leaked from the receiver. Scott glanced over at Sheils. His expression had turned grim. Jane tried to respond, but all she got out was a whimper. Scott wanted to tell her it was all okay, but he couldn’t break his silence.

  Finally, Jane pulled herself together. “We know you took Sammy to get at Scott. He’s not up to speaking right now.”

  “Is that right?” The Piper’s contempt for Jane’s lie punched through the electronic device disguising his voice. “You don’t sound up for it, either.”

  “I’m not. Do you mind speaking to my brother?”

  The line went dead. The burr of the disconnected line sounded like the end of the world.

  Jane jumped up. “What just happened? He’s gone. He’s gone!”

  Scott embraced his wife to calm her.

  “It’s okay,” Sheils told her. “He’ll call back.”

  “He knows,” Brannon said, defeat thick in his voice. “He knows we’re here.”

  “Of course he does,” Scott snapped. He locked stares with Sheils. “He’s dealt with you guys seven times before. Why would this time be any different?”

  “It was worth a try,” Sheils said.

  “It’s okay, Jane.” He kissed her. “He’ll call back. He wants me.”

  Everyone retook their seats and clustered around the phone, waiting for it to ring. Peter broke away from Guerra and jumped into Jane’s arms.

  The minutes ticked by.

  “Why hasn’t he called back?” Jane asked.

  “He’s testing us,” Sheils replied.

  “He’s punishing us,” Scott corrected.

  “He’ll call.”

  Dunham, a slight and fresh-faced guy, removed his cell phone from his ear, frowned, and hung up. He had been on the phone since the Piper had called. “The call’s been traced to a broadband Internet provider.”

  Sheils cursed.

  “What’s wrong?” Scott asked.

  “He’s calling in through the Internet, and more than likely, he’s using a wireless connection.”

  “Are you saying you can’t trace the call?” Jane asked.

  “No. It’s just going to take longer. We need to nail down the IP address, then triangulate his position using cell phone towers.”

  This act was all supposed to instill confidence, but Scott knew it was a crock. They might be buying it, but he wasn’t. The Piper was on top of things. He knew the Feds would be in charge of the case. He knew a negotiator would be flown in and how long that would take. He also knew if he called now, they wouldn’t be ready. Scott couldn’t help but feel like the Piper was toying with them.

  After ten minutes, the phone rang again. Sheils started reeling off instructions, but Scott snatched up the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Good,” the Piper said. “We don’t have to play games. Let’s keep things honest. You have the FBI with you, yes?”

  Scott tried a delay tactic. “Screw the FBI. What about Sammy?”

  The line went dead again. The Piper wasn’t going to fall for Sheils’s tricks. They had to play it his way. Any deviation resulted in punishment.

  “I don’t think he likes your tactics.”

  Sheils didn’t respond.

  The Piper’s time-out lasted exactly fifteen minutes. Scott answered the phone again.

  “Answer my questions, and I’ll stay on the line,” the Piper said. “The FBI is with you—yes or no?”

  “Yes.”

  “I want two million dollars in nonsequential bills.”

  “I don’t have that kind of money,” Scott interrupted. He wasn’t employing one of Sheils’s hopeless delay tactics; it was just the truth. Regardless, the Piper hung up.

  “Dammit!” Scott shouted and threw the phone down.

  “Stay calm, Scott,” Jane pleaded. “He’s doing this to irritate you.”

  “Well, it’s working.”

  “For Sammy, please try.”

  And for Peter, he thought. The poor kid was clinging to Jane. He looked petrified. “Okay.”

  The Piper called back thirty minutes later. Scott reported for punishment.

  “Two million dollars in nonsequential bills. I will call in twenty-four hours to confirm you have the money.”

  Having learned his lesson, Scott kept quiet.

  “Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Good night.”

  “Sammy…” Scott paused for a second, expecting the line to go dead at his interruption, but it didn’t.

  “What about him?”

  “I want to speak to him.”

  “When you have the money. Start breaking open
your piggy banks.” The Piper hung up.

  The Piper wouldn’t be calling back tonight. Scott felt his tenuous grasp on the situation slither out of his hands. He surveyed the agents entrenched in his home. They’d yet to come to this realization. They were surplus to requirements and didn’t even know it.

  “You did well,” Sheils said. “Okay, we need to discuss the ransom. I’m assuming you don’t have two million.”

  “No,” Jane said, shaking her head. “Even if we sold everything, we wouldn’t come anywhere close. He has to know we don’t have that kind of money.”

  “I’m sure he does. This is where our negotiator will come into play. He’ll bargain the price down.”

  “Wake up, Sheils,” Scott said. “The Piper purposefully picked a figure out of our reach. This isn’t a normal Piper kidnapping—or haven’t you gotten that yet?”

  “Can’t the FBI lend us the money or something?” Jane asked.

  “Sorry, no. It’s against government policy to fund ransoms, but we have connections with banks that can assist you.”

  Scott looked over at the clock. Time had slowed. He would have sworn it was deep into the night, but it wasn’t even nine p.m. Scott knew the Feds were doing their job, but it was starting to get claustrophobic. Their house had never seemed so small.

  “I’d like to speak with my family—alone.”

  “Sure. Good idea.” Sheils got up and directed his agents into the dining area.

  “Time for bed, buddy,” Scott said to Peter.

  “Okay, Dad,” Peter said, almost in a daze. For once, there was no argument about bedtime.

  He hopped off the couch, and Jane took his hand as they climbed the stairs. Scott and Jane helped Peter change into his pajamas and watched over him while he brushed his teeth, like they had done when he was small. Scott expected difficult questions from his son that he wouldn’t be able to answer, but Peter said nothing about his brother. Like all of them, he needed a break from the nightmare. Scott found himself wanting Peter to ask him about Sammy. He needed the pain. Pain gave him drive.

  Scott and Jane walked Peter to the room he shared with his brother. Without Sammy, the room seemed cavernous. His empty bed was a nasty reminder of his absence.

  “Are you going to be okay in here?” Jane asked Peter.

  The boy stared at Sammy’s side of the room. He nodded and climbed into his bed. Scott and Jane sat by his side.

  “Do you want to talk about anything?” Scott asked.

  “No.” He rolled over, and within minutes, he was asleep.

  Scott led Jane to their bedroom and closed the door.

  Jane fell into his arms. “Where are we going to come up with two million dollars?”

  He’d been totting up their assets in his head, converting their possessions into dollar figures. They had savings, stocks, bonds, and pension funds. Their cars were only a couple of years old. Their house was a million-dollar asset in the current housing market, but the mortgage ate into a large chunk of the equity. The plus side looked rosy, but the total came nowhere near the Piper’s figure. “We’ll come up with it.”

  “How, Scott?” She pulled away from him. “How?”

  He sat her down on the edge of the bed and knelt before her. “We’ll mortgage the house.”

  “It’s already mortgaged.”

  “We’ll sell it, then.”

  “Be serious, Scott. Even if someone bought our house tomorrow, it’s not worth two million.”

  He looked her directly in the eyes. “I’ll raise the money. I don’t know how, but I will. If I have to sell everything I own and live in a box for the rest of my life, I’ll do it to get Sammy back.”

  Jane pulled him to her, kissed him, then hugged him. “I love you so much.”

  Scott had desperately needed to hear this. Sheils could promise the might of the entire FBI, but it didn’t compare to his wife’s support. He hugged her tight to prevent her from slipping away.

  “Can they do it? Can they get Sammy back?”

  Scott pulled back from her. Her desperate need for reassurance was etched into her face. As much as Scott recognized this and wanted the same, he couldn’t lie. He hoped that was enough for her.

  “I don’t know. I have to believe Sheils and his people can get Sammy back.”

  “Believe? That’s not enough, Scott. They’ve never even come close to catching this bastard. He killed the last child. I don’t know if these people can save Sammy.”

  What Jane said scared him. He feared for his son’s life, but he had hope. If they complied with the Piper’s demands, Sammy would be returned to them. The only danger came from an FBI screwup. He couldn’t let that happen.

  “What are you saying?” Scott asked.

  “We can’t rely on the FBI. We have to get involved.”

  “No, we can’t do that. It’s too dangerous.”

  “So we’ll sit back and do nothing, is that what you’re saying?” Jane’s voice had risen. He shushed her in case someone overheard.

  “No, I’m not. The Piper has targeted us because of me. I’ll do everything possible to get Sammy back.”

  Jane latched onto his words and fixed him with a burning stare. “Do you promise that? Do you promise to bring him home?”

  “I promise,” Scott said. “It’ll happen. Whatever it takes, I will make it happen. There’s nothing I won’t do.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  By one a.m., calm had descended over the Fleetwood house. The Fleetwoods were in bed. Sheils, Brannon, Guerra, and Dunham sat around the dining table.

  “Thoughts and impressions?” Sheils asked.

  “The Piper is back with a bang,” Dunham said.

  Sheils concurred with this point, but something still itched where it shouldn’t have. Why the eight-year gap between kidnappings, and why target Scott Fleetwood?

  “Scott bothers you, doesn’t he?” Brannon said to Sheils.

  “Yes,” he admitted. “I don’t like that the Piper broke with tradition by singling him out.”

  “But it makes sense,” Brannon said. “The guy screwed up the Piper’s last kidnapping. Killing Nicholas Rooker made the Piper one of America’s Ten Most Wanted. Kidnapping Scott’s son seems like a fair trade.”

  “Do you think Scott is involved with the Piper?” Dunham asked.

  “I can’t rule it out. Scott played things to his own ends before. Why not now?”

  “Because his kid is at risk,” Guerra said.

  “Not if this is a setup,” Sheils said.

  “If you’re right, then Scott is a first-class prick,” Dunham said.

  “I’ve thought that for eight years,” Sheils said.

  Jane cleared her throat, startling the assembled agents. Sheils had no idea how long she’d been standing in the doorway. Embarrassment swept across them all. She smiled wanly, but there was no doubting the fatigue in her pale face.

  “Could I speak to you for a minute?” she asked Sheils.

  “Of course, Mrs. Fleetwood,” Sheils said.

  Sheils guided her into the kitchen and closed the door. She pulled out two chairs and they sat. “Call me Jane,” she said. “Okay, what can I help you with, Jane?”

  “You blame Scott for Nicholas Rooker’s death, don’t you?”

  “It was an error in judgment on your husband’s part.”

  She frowned. “Don’t play coy. I blame him too.”

  Her remark shocked him, but he respected it. No one, not even a spouse, could turn a blind eye to what Scott had done.

  “Scott let his ambition get the better of him and it cost that boy his life, but he didn’t kill him. His mistake was thinking he could deliver the Piper. The Piper killed Nicholas. He knew you would catch Redfern. He could have waited, but he didn’t. He killed that boy for no reason other than spite.”

  It had been a long time since someone had shamed Sheils. He regretted his outburst in the kitchen. “I’m sorry. I deserved that. I do hold Scott responsible for what happened to Nicholas
, but I hold Redfern and the Piper responsible too. They all made bad choices.”

  “Don’t you think Scott knows that? A day doesn’t go by without him blaming himself. He wouldn’t be human if he didn’t.”

  “Again, I’m sorry for my earlier behavior. I’ll apologize to Scott in the morning.”

  “I don’t want your apologies. I want you to get my son back.”

  Sheils liked this woman. She was strong. “You have my word.”

  “Good.” She smiled at him. “Can I make you any coffee? Sleep isn’t going to come easy tonight.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. I was about to go home. I want to check in with my family.”

  He wrapped up for the night and saw himself out. The drive didn’t take long at that time of night. He drove with the window down to refresh himself. The night was mild, the air cool.

  Sheils pulled up in front of his garage and let himself into his house. He loved coming home. Being with his family shut out the cruelty he had to deal with on a daily basis. Years ago, he’d made a conscious decision that when he closed the door to his home, he would slough off the pressures of the job. But tonight it wasn’t working. He’d closed the door, but Sammy Fleetwood’s abduction remained tied around his neck.

  Angela emerged from the living room to embrace him. She smiled at him, but there was pain behind it. “Is it him?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  She sighed. “Why now after so long?”

  “I’ve been asking myself the same question.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “I grabbed something earlier.”

  “I’ll make you something.” She released him and went into the kitchen.

  He followed her. “It’s too late to eat, and you’ve got work in a few hours.”

  She raided the fridge, pulling out eggs, cheese, vegetables, and sausage. “You won’t be on a nine-to-five for a while. You’re going to have to eat while you can.”

  He surrendered to her good sense, and she put together one of her massive scrambles. It was protein on a plate—something she’d been making for him since before they were married.

  While she cooked, he stripped off his gun, phone, and jacket. He fell into the chair at the kitchen table to watch her cook. He couldn’t remember the number of times he’d told her not to stay up. He didn’t bother anymore.