The Negotiation

by Tyler Anne Snell

  “Like I promised,” she said with a grin.

  Lonnie took the money and was off. It gave Suzy time to talk to them.

  “Tucker is on some painkillers, so he isn’t one-hundred percent there, if you ask me.” She dove in. “But he knows where he is and what happened. I think he also is very aware that we know he left Lonnie. He looked nervous and guilty more than anything else.”

  “What did he say to Lonnie?” Rachel asked.

  Suzy rubbed her stomach. Her expression hardened.

  “Not enough, if you ask me,” she said. “Lonnie did most of the talking. Told him what happened in the house the other day.” Suzy looked directly at Rachel. “Talked a lot about you. Said you would die before letting him sacrifice himself to the man who was downstairs. Then he talked about your wound and how it looked under the bandage.”

  Rachel touched her wrist and smiled for a moment at the boy’s earlier curiosity to see it.

  Then Suzy turned to Dane. She lowered her voice. “I don’t know how their relationship was before this all happened, but I don’t think they’re all that close. Lonnie didn’t even try to hug him. Just kind of patted the bed. Tucker didn’t try anything, either. It was almost like they were strangers.”

  “The rumor at school is that Tucker views Lonnie as more of an obligation than family,” Rachel said, matching Suzy’s low tone.

  “Which is in line with our new theory,” Chance added. “He might actually be an obligation for Tucker.” Rachel narrowed her eyes at the cowboy. He held up his hand and defended himself. “You know what I mean.”

  Rachel glanced over at the boy. Her heart squeezed at the thought of him living with a man who viewed him as some kind of job or chore.

  “Can we go see Tucker now?” Dane asked. His voice was tight. He was trying to stay professional, but Rachel heard the anger beneath his words. “I’d really like to ask that man some questions.”

  Suzy nodded. “My advice? Don’t press him too hard too fast,” she said. “I don’t like to make snap judgments about people I don’t know, but honestly, I think he’s one heck of a coward. You might break him before you get what you want.”

  Dane muttered some not-nice words. Rachel touched his arm.

  “I want to stay out here with Lonnie,” she told him. “I don’t want to see that man yet. I don’t have professional training in keeping my opinions to myself.”

  “I’m sure Lonnie would like that,” Dane said with a small smile. “He seems to be a fan.”

  “While you all do that, I’m going to go call Billy and see how things are going with him,” Suzy added. She looked over their shoulder to Detective Foster. “Then see what Caleb has going on. Deputy Mills is supposed to be on his way here soon to talk.”

  Rachel once again pictured each of the people around her with one piece of the puzzle. The anxiety of waiting settled back onto her shoulders. She would be happy when this was all over.

  Dane and Chance disappeared down the hallway while Suzy went in the opposite direction. Rachel walked over to the vending machine in time to see Lonnie scowling at it.

  “What did that machine ever do to you?” Rachel teased.

  Lonnie looked over and let out a loud, long sigh.

  “I wanted a Pepsi,” he said. “This one doesn’t have any. This week has sucked.”

  Rachel was going to correct him but decided to agree. “It has sucked, hasn’t it?”

  Lonnie looked surprised. Rachel snorted. It made him smile.

  “Yeah, it has,” he said, enthused. “They even brought me homework to do yesterday. But I told them I was too emotional.”

  His smile turned into a grin.

  Rachel couldn’t help laughing.

  Despite everything, the boy had a sense of humor. It was endearing.

  “Here, why don’t we go look at the vending machines down the hall?” Rachel suggested. “See if they don’t have a Pepsi or two. Maybe some candy while we’re at it.”

  Lonnie nodded, eyes lighting up. He followed as she went to the two police officers watching the area.

  “We’re going to go to the vending machines down there,” she said, pointing down the hall. They could see half of one of the machines just from where they were standing. It was probably the only reason they allowed them to go. Rachel turned to Detective Foster. His face was pinched, his attention narrowed. Whatever news he was getting over the phone was probably just as frustrating as all the other news they’d already gotten.

  “So, do you like the place you’re staying at?” Rachel asked as they meandered along the hall. She decided to avoid asking the questions she wanted to, like how he was doing and if Tucker had ever talked about not being his uncle.

  “It’s okay,” he said with a shrug. “There’s a pool in the back, but they said it was better to stay inside even though I told them I’m really awesome at swimming.”

  She didn’t miss how his chest seemed to swell with pride.

  “Tucker doesn’t like the water, but I do. I taught myself to swim when I was in third grade. I’m really fast.”

  “That’s impressive. I can swim but not fast. I’m really good at floating, though.” They came to a stop at the first of three vending machines. Rachel smiled as she spied one had Pepsi. A man was standing in front of it, looking for money in his pockets. “And you know, I really like water, too. I even have a creek next to my house.”

  “Really?” Lonnie asked.

  “Yep. It’s just deep enough to swim in but not too deep. But my favorite part is listening to it from the deck. It’s really nice in the summer.”

  That seemed to impress Lonnie. He opened his mouth to say something when the man next to them spoke instead.

  “It really is a lovely feature.”

  He turned around so fast that Rachel didn’t think to feel threatened. She figured it was just a man trying to make conversation. But then he kept talking.

  “If you make any move or try to alert those cops down the hall, Marnie is as good as dead.”

  Rachel felt her eyes widen.

  “And that means looking at me in fear.”

  Rachel adjusted her expression. She fought the urge to look back toward the police officers. All she had to do was yell and they’d come. Or run back to them.

  But he’d said Marnie’s name.

  “What do you mean Marnie’s as good as dead?” Rachel did the math in her head quickly. The last time she had talked to the young woman had been the day of the broadcast. While a deputy was there, she’d gone into the house and gotten June the cat, promising to take care of her until things calmed down.

  Guilt, strong and fast, bulldozed into Rachel’s stomach.

  With everything going on she hadn’t thought about checking up on her friend. Or her cat for that matter. She should have, plain and simple.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” the man said. “She and June are still alive. Just as long as you listen to me.” He titled his gaze down to Lonnie. “As long as you both listen to me.” He took a dollar bill out of his pocket and held it out to the boy. “You take this and put it in that first vending machine. I want you to pretend you’re trying to decide on what to get, got it?”

  Lonnie didn’t hesitate. He nodded. Without looking at Rachel, he took a step back and in front of the right vending machine. It kept Lonnie in the sight line of the officers. Rachel, however, was just outside it.

  “Now, Ms. Roberts, here’s the deal,” the man began. “You and Lonnie are going to come with us, but unlike the last two times, you aren’t going to cause any trouble.” He motioned behind him. Farther down the hall a man she hadn’t seen until now pushed his coat aside long enough so she could see he was wearing a gun.

  “That man is the only one in the world who knows the right thing to say to another one of my associates not here. If he doesn’t say that right thing in t
he next five minutes, that other associate will start the process of bleeding out young Miss Marnie.” He steepled his fingers in front of him. “Now, that right thing will only be said when you and the boy walk out with us without any fuss. And let me point out that this associate of mine really doesn’t have a taste for you. Considering you’re the reason his friend was killed.”

  “Wyatt,” Rachel breathed.

  The man arched his eyebrow, but he smiled.

  “That’s right,” he confirmed. “Wyatt was his friend and he’s more than ready to kill yours. So let’s get this show on the road, all right?”

  “You’re just going to kill us all anyways,” Rachel pointed out, sure of her words. “Our chances at survival go down exponentially if we go with you.”

  She believed what she said and she hoped Lonnie heard that confidence in her voice. She was saying it for his benefit, not hers. He’d already tried to sacrifice himself when Wyatt was around. At the same time, Rachel couldn’t damn Marnie just yet.

  “Oh, as much as I wish we could, that’s not the plan.” He glanced at Lonnie. “The boy is off limits. You are on the fence. And Marnie? Marnie is just good ol’ bait.” He grinned. “And not to be a broken record, but whether she lives or dies is up to you. It isn’t our decision at all.”

  Rachel’s stomach twisted. She pictured the first time she’d met sweet, innocent Marnie. Awkward, talkative, and completely indifferent when it came to personal space. Since then the young girl had grown into a wonderful young woman. Rachel pictured her days ago, worried that something had happened to Rachel and distraught at just the thought.

  Rachel took a shuddering breath.

  Her heart sank.

  The man’s eyes narrowed.

  Forgive me, Marnie.

  Rachel spun on her heel and pushed Lonnie as hard as she could farther into the sight line of the officers.

  “Help!” she yelled at the top of her lungs.

  Then, before either of the men could react, Rachel ran.

  This time, it wasn’t away from danger.

  It was toward it.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Her head was nothing but a throbbing ache. Rachel opened her eyes and tenderly touched her cheek. It hurt, too. Her fingers were wet as she pulled them back.

  What had happened?

  Where was she?

  It was dark. Cool but not too cold. She tried to let her eyes adjust as she reached out on either side of her. One hand touched something hard. The other went through air.

  “Lonnie?”

  Her voice fell flat in the darkness. Like she was somewhere tight. She waited, listening. No one responded, least of all Lonnie.

  The hospital.

  The men.

  Rachel’s heartbeat started to gallop.

  She’d managed to tackle the man closest to them in the hospital hallway, but after that things got hazy. The throbbing of her head was a clue she couldn’t ignore. She’d been hit in the head. Hard. Someone had knocked her out.

  “Marnie?” she tried instead.

  No response.

  Rachel took a moment to take stock of herself. She wasn’t tied up or bound. Her mouth wasn’t covered, either. Aside from her head, there was no other pain. Still, slowly, she tested herself to see if there were any other limitations while also trying to figure out where she was.

  She reached out to the spot where she’d connected with something hard and put her palm against it. Whatever it was, it was textured and firm. Rachel slid her hand up and then all the way to the floor. It was a wall. She put her palm against the floor and felt along it, hoping to find something, but came up short.

  Rachel decided to follow that wall. She got up slowly and felt along it for a few steps before she hit another one. She did the same thing along the new wall until a foot or so later she hit another corner. Wherever she was, it was a very small room.

  Alone in that very small, very dark, room.

  Panic started to rise within her. Her breathing was becoming erratic. She traced the last wall back, hoping to find a door.

  “Thank God,” she whispered to herself. Her fingers wrapped around a doorknob. It turned but something caught when she pushed. Rachel turned the knob again and tried to push through. The door was blocked on the other side.

  The panic in Rachel’s chest quickly turned to fear.

  “Help,” she yelled, banging her fists against the door. “Help! Someone! I’m in here!”

  Rachel beat at the door until the wound from her hand burned. She tried to open the door one last time. When it didn’t move, she opened up her search perimeter. She moved along each of the walls again, this time with the intent of finding a light switch. When she came up empty, she moved backward, sweeping each foot out in an arc before she continued. Finally she felt something.

  A string.

  Rachel pulled it.

  A fluorescent bulb came to life above her. She blinked against the new light. The room she was in was small. No windows, no furniture, just a cluster of boxes she was a few inches from tripping over near the middle. She turned back to the door and tried to open it again, as if seeing it would make some kind of difference. However, whatever was on the other side of it continued to resist.

  Rachel turned her attention to the closest box. It was taped up. One name was written across its side in black Sharpie. The writing was familiar. So was the name.

  “David,” she read out loud.

  Ice ran through her veins.

  Slowly she looked around.

  Rachel wasn’t in a room. She was in a shed.

  Her shed.

  The one she had bought a few months back for behind her house. It had been too hot to move her excess boxes into it during the summer, so she’d only put in a few. The ones that were in there now were books. Rachel bent over and started to open the box closest to her. A book was better than nothing when it came to makeshift weapons.

  A scraping sound made her turn. Movement shook the door. Rachel tried to claw the box open, needing to get her hands on something, but she ran out of time. A flood of light from outside came in.

  Once again she blinked to get her bearings.

  “Glad to see Levi didn’t kill you.”

  A man filled the doorway. Tall, broad, and a mass of muscles. He had a shaved head and a nasty scar across his right forearm. A smaller but still angry scar puckered the skin at his neck. He wore a dark navy blazer and a matching pair of slacks. His shoes reflected sunlight. So did the long knife in his hand.

  “You’re Marcus Highland,” Rachel said, voice stone. It wasn’t a question. She’d seen his picture and she would never forget it. So he really wasn’t dead.

  Marcus nodded and stepped inside. He didn’t shut the door, but the man from the hospital with the gun came into view. After he flashed her a smile and turned around. He was the guard. Beyond him Rachel could see the trees that separated her house and Marnie’s property.

  Marnie.

  Rachel began to feel numb.

  If she wasn’t in the shed, then did that mean...?

  “You know, I’m impressed with you,” Marcus said. He stopped and leaned against the wall. Rachel backed up until her back hit the one opposite. He pointed the knife at her. Its blade glinted in the light. “You’re craftier than I thought you would be. Here I thought you’d just freeze up when my friends came after you and Lonnie. Maybe fight back a little, run a little, too, but nothing like what you did at the school. It was a surprise to say the least. But it was also a bad plan. One my deceased partner Wyatt decided to attempt a little too early. But when Tucker said Lonnie had Saturday detention and you were the teacher in charge?” He shrugged. “I could see how he thought moving the timeline up was a good move. When two pieces line up like that? Well, it’s hard to pass up the opportunity that arises from it.”

/>   He smiled. It sickened her.

  “But I guess you taught Wyatt a lesson. Or should I say Captain Dane Jones did?” Marcus’s eyes turned to slits for the briefest of moments. “Captain. I can’t believe he made captain. I didn’t think he’d have the stones.”

  The disgust that was clear in his voice made Rachel find her own.

  “What’s your plan?” she snapped. “Why do you want Lonnie now? Why come for him all these years later?”

  Marcus didn’t answer right away. Instead he studied her. It made her skin crawl, his brown eyes sweeping across her face like a machine trying to scan a code.

  “You know,” he finally said.

  Rachel nodded.

  “Lonnie is your nephew, not Tucker’s,” she confirmed. “But I don’t understand why. You could have adopted him, but instead you started the Saviors of the South. Why? What was the point of it all? Why kill all those men?”

  Rachel thought of David. Her voice broke enough to make her feel shame. She didn’t want to give the man the satisfaction of her crying. The tears in her throat stayed down.

  Marcus’s expression stayed impassive. “Plans are hard to make and keep when corruption can take everyone and everything away from you.”

  “Your brother, John,” Rachel stated. If Marcus was going to talk, she at least wanted answers.

  “He was a good, God-fearing man. Much better than I ever was. Good husband, good dad. But that all changed when a Riker County sheriff’s deputy decided he wanted to save himself by damning John.”

  “The deputy planted evidence and John was convicted,” Rachel said.

  She saw Marcus’s hand tighten around the hilt of the knife.

  “Never had a chance,” he stressed, seething. “Especially after one of his buddies got up on the stand and praised him as an honest, honorable man. They took one look at my brother and decided he wasn’t worth listening to. Went to prison in the blink of an eye. And if that wasn’t bad enough...” He gritted his teeth.

  If Rachel could have, she would have stepped farther away from him. His anger was almost thick enough to feel.

  “If that wasn’t bad enough, the people who were supposed to protect him while he was forced to be there? They let him be killed in his cell like he was nothing.” The anger didn’t dissipate. It transformed. From rage to a smile steeped in venom and dripping with violence. “So I decided to wait until I could punish the man who didn’t save my brother.”