by Simon Wood
Jane fought her need to cry, but failed. Peter’s still form melted as her tears clouded her vision.
“Just know Scott is to blame for this,” the Piper said.
Before Jane could ask why, a bolt of pain shot through her, and darkness flooded in to sweep Peter away.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Scott burst through the door. An army of FBI agents filled the downstairs rooms of his house. None made any move to restrain him.
“Where is she?”
“In the bedroom.”
Scott tore up the stairs. Sheils yelled after him, but he ignored the agent.
They’d been so close. So close to making it home before the Piper had struck again. Their convoy was tearing through Vacaville when the call had come through that the Piper had snatched Peter. It had taken thirty minutes to cover the fifty miles, but it was all for naught. It didn’t change anything. Peter was gone.
The bedroom door was closed. He didn’t bother knocking before barging his way in.
She was sitting on the bed while two agents attended to her. They stopped when Scott appeared in the doorway.
“Thank God, you’re okay,” he said.
“The Piper just tasered and sedated everyone,” an agent said.
Jane shoved the agents aside. She raced toward Scott with her arms out. Scott halted his approach. Jane wasn’t coming to him in need of an embrace. There was no time to ask questions before she smashed into him.
“What did you do?” she screamed and slapped him hard across the face. “What did you do? He said you didn’t do what he told you. That was why he took Peter.”
His mind whirled. What had the Piper told her? If he’d told her everything, it was game over. Sheils would find out, and there was no way he could help Sammy and Peter. The Piper’s next call would direct them to a quiet spot at Golden Gate Park. Was that why the bastard hadn’t called with his next instructions during the drive back to California? He couldn’t answer Jane’s questions until he knew what the Piper had divulged.
She struck him again, this time harder. His face burned white-hot with shame. He felt the afterglow of her handprint on his cheek.
His standing there, just taking the abuse, did nothing to diffuse her anger. Instead, it poured gasoline on an already raging fire. Her hands balled into fists. She pounded on his chest until the agents peeled her from him.
“What exactly did he say, Mrs. Fleetwood?” Sheils said from the doorway.
Guerra came up to Scott. “Are you okay?”
He nodded and sank into the love seat by the window.
“He said Scott was to blame for tonight.” Jane stared at Scott while she answered. The hatred on her face forced him to look away.
Sheils took Jane’s arm and guided her to the corner of the bed, where she sat down. “What else did he say?”
“That Scott had a simple task to do and he screwed it up.”
“What is he talking about?” Sheils asked Scott.
Just like the Piper to call killing Redfern a simple task, Scott thought. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Sheils said.
“You must, Scott,” Jane demanded. “You did something to cause this.”
“I did everything he told me to do.” He jumped to his feet. “He’s not looking for reasons to punish me—he’s looking for excuses. If I don’t jump when he says jump, then I fail his test.”
He hadn’t said an untrue word, and the honesty burned bright when he spoke, protecting the lie for now. He had to maintain the pretense until the Piper called again.
His outburst took the sting out of Jane. The tension in her body that kept her knotted on the corner of the bed unraveled.
“You must be missing something, Scott,” she said, her tone pleading. “You must know. Think.”
There was something he could say to buy him time. It would keep Sheils off his back and pull Jane back to him. He hated that he was manipulating these people, especially Jane, but he had no choice.
“I escaped,” he said. “The Piper had the ransom, Sammy wasn’t anywhere close, and he wasn’t going to let me go, so I escaped. I never thought he’d take Peter because of it.”
This explanation left the room quiet for a long moment while Jane, Sheils, and his minions absorbed the information. Scott wondered if they were buying it. Jane seemed to be. The warmth was returning to her face as she looked at him. Sheils remained poker-faced. Scott could have walked himself into a trap and wouldn’t even know it.
“Did the Piper say anything else?” Sheils asked.
“That Scott could make up for his mistake.” Jane forced out a weak smile.
Scott smiled back. A second chance. The Piper was giving him a second chance, but he’d doubled the stakes. There’d be another challenge. Get it right, and Sammy and Peter would live. Get it wrong, and he’d surely kill them both.
Sheils examined Scott with a look that could blunt diamonds. “Did he say how Scott could do this?”
That was Scott’s question too. Redfern was dead. He couldn’t kill a dead man. No, the Piper had a new challenge lined up. That was why Sammy wasn’t at the ransom drop. Redfern was never the end game for the Piper. When Scott looked back on everything so far, he cursed himself for being so blind. It had been child’s play to find Redfern, so much so that the Piper, with all his skills and resources, could have tracked him down years ago and put a bullet in his head. Redfern was only the appetizer. The Piper had been preparing Scott for the main event. But what was it?
“No,” Jane said. “That’s all he said.”
Sheils turned to Scott. “Got any ideas?”
Maybe the main event wasn’t a what, but a who. Redfern and Scott weren’t the only flies in the Piper’s ointment. Sheils was responsible too. He’d been suckered into Redfern’s fantasy as much as Scott had. If the FBI agent had recognized Redfern for the hoaxer he was, then everything could have been recovered in time for the money drop to be made and Nicholas to be returned safe and sound, but he’d failed, just like Scott. Was the Piper’s next call going to tell Scott to kill Sheils? Sheils had a family of his own, and he’d never done anything but try to help. Scott would die for his boys if the Piper decided that was the ransom to be paid, but could he kill Sheils?
He knew the truth. If the call came ordering Sheils’s death to save his boys, he would do it. He wouldn’t hesitate.
Scott shook his head. “Not until he calls.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The call came in the afternoon. It gave the FBI something to do. The Piper had less than an hour’s head start on Sheils, but a multi-jurisdictional sweep of the Bay Area had failed to locate him. No one knew what they were even chasing. They didn’t know his identity or a make on his vehicle. Scott guessed he’d gone underground within minutes of snatching Peter. The belief was that the Piper was holed up somewhere in Northern California. Scott wondered if he was staying close to home. It would take an army to search every house and apartment in San Francisco. Not to mention that they didn’t even have a description. The Piper could hide in plain sight quite easily.
Until the phone rang, defeat hung in the air. FBI heads had dropped with the second kidnapping. The electricity that had buzzed around the agents fizzled. Peter represented their ninth Piper kidnapping, tenth if someone wanted to include Scott, and the odds of catching the Piper looked slim to none.
Their defeatism was hurting Jane, eroding her faith. It would be eroding Scott’s too, if it weren’t for his alliance. The Feds couldn’t do anything for his sons, but he could. The Piper was going to give him one more shot. Scott didn’t fear the Piper’s demands. The only thing that mattered was saving his boys.
The phone rang and Scott and Jane sat down together on the couch.
“Play it just as we discussed,” Sheils said.
Scott nodded and squeezed out a smile for Jane before answering the phone.
“Scott, are you ready to do this all again?” the Piper’s distorted voice asked.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
The technician gestured to Scott to stretch out the conversation like he’d been told. Scott didn’t see the point. The FBI hadn’t managed to trace the call so far.
“Is Peter okay?”
The technician flashed him the thumbs-up.
“Both your boys are fine.”
Jane wept at this news. Guerra moved in to comfort her.
“What do you want?” Scott asked.
“Cooperation.”
“You have it.”
“I can rely on you to do exactly as you’re told?”
Scott read between the lines. “I’ll do exactly as you tell me. You have my word.”
“And the FBI?”
“They’ll behave,” Scott said.
“They won’t, but I applaud your conviction.”
“I’m not interested in your games. I just want my kids back. What do you want?”
“Scott, I get the feeling you might be learning after your previous mistakes.” The Piper paused, but Scott said nothing. “Okay, we’re going to try and do this right this time. Two million in nonsequential bills.”
Several of the agents groaned out loud. Sheils dropped his head. Jane buried her face in Guerra’s shoulder.
“I’m going to be generous this time. I realize another two million will be hard for you, so take a few days. Just know the longer you take, the longer it will be before you see your kids again—if ever.”
Jane uncoiled herself from Guerra and lunged for the phone. She snatched the receiver from Scott’s hand. “If you hurt my children, I’ll kill you,” she screamed. “Do you hear me?”
What the Piper had heard was hard to say. By the time Jane paused to listen to his reply, he’d already hung up.
“Jane, it’s going to be okay.” Scott rounded the coffee table and pulled her to him. He pried the phone from her and handed it to Sheils. “Don’t let this bastard get to you. That’s what he wants. He wants us to feel helpless. That’s what gives him power. Do you want to give him that power?”
“He doesn’t have any damn power over me.”
“Good,” he said and kissed her. “We’re going to get through this.”
Where Jane felt pain from the ransom demand, Scott felt relief. The dummy ransom was in, and he could expect a call from the Piper soon with the real one.
Sheils conferred with his team before coming over to them. “We need to talk about this new ransom. I can get a bank to provide the two million, but I’m going to need guarantees that you can cover the money. I’m not trying to pressure you, but I need to know where you stand.”
“We don’t have it,” Scott said. “We can cover about half, but that’s it.”
“Maybe we could get the Piper to give us more time or negotiate the amount,” Jane said, but she lost faith in what she was saying before she finished saying it. They all knew the Piper wasn’t going to budge, not with them. Scott couldn’t imagine leaving Sammy and Peter in the Piper’s charge for weeks while he and Jane raised the ransom.
“Can I make a suggestion?” Sheils asked. “Go to Charles Rooker.”
“We lost two million of his already,” Scott said.
“I know, but if he’s willing to advance you the money, I can get the bank moving.”
“We can ask,” Jane said.
Scott knew it was their only option, but he hated it. The Piper had destroyed Rooker’s life once. Losing the two–million–dollar ransom added insult to injury. Now to have to beg for another two million was kicking him when he was down. But it was money to save Sammy and Peter. Scott had to try.
“We’ll call,” Scott said.
Sheils left them alone while Jane called Rooker about the second ransom. To their surprise, he barely gave her time to explain before he told her he would pay again. They collapsed into each other’s arms before breaking into sobs. In spite of everything that cursed them, people like Rooker made them feel blessed.
They met at the bank an hour later. Rooker arrived early and rushed up to them the moment they set foot inside. He engulfed Scott and Jane like they were his own lost children.
“I’m just sick about Peter,” Rooker said.
“We’re going to pay you back this money,” Scott said,
“I told you before, there’s no need.”
Scott pulled out the check the Independent had given him and held it out to Rooker. “That’s yours.”
Rooker made no attempt to take the check.
Scott couldn’t profit at this man’s expense. “Name a charity. I’ll sign it over to them.”
Rooker smiled. “That’s very generous. We’ll worry about that when this is all over.”
Jane took Rooker’s hand and placed it between hers. When she smiled at him, tears spilled out. “You’re a very good man.”
“I’m not. Not really. I’ll be honest with you. I’m helping you for selfish reasons. The Piper robbed me of my son.” His eyes shone with tears. “I was thinking only today that he would be graduating this year and going on to college—his life before him, still waiting to be written. But it wasn’t to be.”
“Don’t torture yourself, Charles,” Jane said.
“He shouldn’t have died. I had the money, and I had no problem paying it. But circumstances…” Rooker trailed off when his gaze fell on Scott. “Look, I had the good fortune to be able to pay my son’s ransom, but never got the chance.” Suddenly, anger gripped him and his voice rose. “The Piper took my son and killed him—for no reason.” His anger subsided. “Giving you the money lets me pay the ransom that I never got to pay for Nicholas.”
Scott imagined he hadn’t shared this pain with anyone before. There were few people who could understand it. He and Jane were unfortunate enough to be in that select group.
“You’ve paid. You don’t have to pay again,” Scott said.
“I’ve made a good living. Money I have. Money I don’t need. There’s no one to pass it on to. Besides, I’m not paying for Nicholas, I’m paying for your boys.”
Jane palmed away her tears. “Thank you. There’s nothing else I can say except thank you, Charles.”
Rooker said nothing, accepting the compliment with good grace.
“Would you like to have dinner with us?” Jane asked.
“Actually, I was wondering if I could take you two somewhere,” Rooker said. “If that’s okay with you, Agent Sheils?”
Sheils looked uneasy.
Rooker smiled. “I promise to have them home before curfew.”
“Okay, but I need you to remain in contact in case of any developments,” Sheils said to Scott and Jane.
“We have our cells,” Jane said.
Reluctantly, Sheils let them leave with Rooker. By the time they got into Rooker’s Mercedes, rush hour was in full swing.
“Where are we going?” Jane asked.
“Hopefully to someone who might be able to help.”
Half an hour later, Rooker pulled up in front of Four Embarcadero Center. He checked in with reception and they rode the elevator to the ninth floor. The elevator doors opened up on an office floor belonging to Friedkin International Investigations.
Rooker waved to a trim man in his late forties with salt-and pepper hair. The man waved back, but his expression was grim. He was stretched across the reception desk with a phone pressed to his ear. His call seemed to be the reason for his displeasure.
Rooker and the Fleetwoods approached, but they stood a respectful distance from the man while he talked.
“Okay, I’ll find out where he is. In the meantime, I’ll assign another of my investigators to your case. Thank you. And I apologize for the inconvenience.” The man handed the phone to the receptionist.
“Problems, John?” Rooker asked.
“Only a small one.” The man put out his hand to Scott and Jane to shake. “I’m John Friedkin, Mr. and Mrs. Fleetwood. It’s a horrible thing that’s happened to your children. I can’t imagine what you’re goin
g through.”
Scott wondered if Friedkin knew them from their faces being splashed across the TV or if Rooker had filled them in.
Friedkin said to the receptionist, “Rebecca, see if you can get a twenty on Alex Hammond. I want an explanation for his no-show.”
On the ride over, Rooker had assured Scott and Jane that Friedkin was the best, but his staffing issues didn’t instill confidence in Scott.
“This way, please,” Friedkin said.
The investigator walked them through a modern office complex and into a corner office with a view of the piers and the Bay Bridge. It was very impressive, but Scott guessed that was the point. This was no sleazy gumshoe operation, and Friedkin was no sleazy gumshoe, judging by the suit he wore and the Rolex on his wrist.
Everyone sat around a conference table. Friedkin and Rooker sat with their backs to the million-dollar view.
“Why are we here?” Scott asked.
“I told you I had selfish reasons for helping you,” Rooker said. “Never paying Nicholas’s ransom was one. The other—the main part, really—is that I want the Piper caught.”
“The FBI is doing that,” Jane said.
“It’s what they’re trying to do,” Rooker corrected.
“Maybe I should explain,” Friedkin said. “The FBI is a well-trained organization with excellent personnel. They have resources and contacts that, as a private investigation firm, we don’t.”
“Then why are we here?” Scott asked.
“The FBI, like any law enforcement agency, is constrained by laws which I’m not. For example, I’m not burdened by such things as ‘probable cause.’”
“After Nicholas died, I waited for the FBI to catch the Piper,” Rooker said. “I expected and believed they would. When it became obvious they wouldn’t, I turned to John.”
“And obviously, you didn’t get any further than the FBI did,” Scott said to Friedkin.
“No, but the kidnapping of your sons gives me a fresh line of inquiry, something I’ve never had before.”
“I’m hoping you’ll allow John and his people to work the investigation alongside the FBI,” Rooker said.