Fatal Exchange (12 page)

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Authors: Lisa Harris

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

BOOK: Fatal Exchange
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“Emily.” He stopped next to the bench where he’d showed her the photos of Eduardo a few hours ago, and held out one of the drinks. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. You know this isn’t how I wanted things to end.”

“I know. Me neither.” She took the drink and nodded her thanks before taking a sip. “I still don’t understand what happened in there, but I guess you were right.”

“Right about what?”

He waited for her to take another sip of coffee and collect her thoughts. It was going to take awhile for her to work through everything that had happened in that classroom today, but talking about it was definitely the right step forward.

She looked up at him and caught his gaze. Her blue eyes were wide with question and hurt. “You were right about the fact that Rafael tried to play me. He played us both. I just . . . I just don’t understand why. Even if someone else had manipulated him somehow into walking into that classroom, he could have walked away. You’d promised to help him. I’d promised.” Tears framed her lashes, adding a layer of vulnerability to her expression. “I need answers, Mason. Whether or not he was guilty, why didn’t the captain wait until the transfer was made? The kidnappers would have what they wanted, and maybe Rafael would welcome the protection of the police then. Why go in there if there was a chance that someone else was behind this?”

Mason wasn’t sure how to respond, because he really didn’t know much more than she did. “I wasn’t in the room when Rafael was shot, so all I can guess is that Rafael’s emotions were running high, and he panicked. There are also some who believe Rafael knew about his brother’s drug dealing and might have even been involved.”

“No. I’ll never believe that.” Anger seeped through her. Just like she’d never believe Rafael should have died. “Why go in
there in the first place? What changed between arranging to wire the kidnappers the ransom money and bursting through the door?”

“I’ll know more soon.” He wished he could give her the answers she needed. “The captain is giving a briefing in fifteen minutes, but something had to have changed. Something that forced them to make a decision to go in.”

Her hand shook, splashing coffee over the side of the cup. She reached down and set it on the bench next to them, then pressed her fingers against her temples. “I’m sorry. My head is killing me. I’m angry and frustrated . . .” She looked up at him. “But you don’t need to hear this.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, and I don’t mind listening. You need to talk about it.”

“I just don’t know who to be angry at. Myself for not convincing Rafael to give up. The captain for going in there . . . No matter what Rafael was involved in, he didn’t have to die.”

Mason understood her frustration, because he felt it himself. His job had been to ensure the situation ended with everyone alive. Nothing he could say or do could change the reality that Rafael was now lying in a zippered body bag.

“You can add me to the list of people to blame.” Mason pressed his lips together. “I was convinced that I knew Rafael well enough. Believed he trusted me. None of it was enough.”

She looked away. A tear slid down her check. He set his coffee beside hers, gathered her into his arms, and let her cry. She leaned into him, her head against his shoulder, her heart pounding against his chest. He shouldn’t be the one holding her, but he was glad he was.

He wanted to tell her she had the most beautiful eyes. Even when she was crying. That being next to her did something crazy to his heart he hadn’t expected. That he found her brave, strong, and captivating, and wanted to get to know her better.

Instead, he just held her.

He pulled back a few moments later to brush away the tears sliding down her cheeks. “I know it sounds trite, but you’ve got your family, your friends, your faith . . . you’ll get through this. We both will.”

“I know. I’ve just never been so scared. I hate guns.” She looked up at him. “I hate the violence, and the fact that there can’t be a happily ever after in this. I wanted to fix this situation and I couldn’t.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about. It’s normal for a barrage of emotions to hit after the trauma is over.”

“Maybe, but it still hurts so bad.” She drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “What happens next?”

“Carlos and Griffin are in the process of questioning the men who were holding Eduardo captive. Hopefully it won’t be too long until we are able to track down Mrs. Cerda, along with whoever was behind all of this.”

She was close enough that he could see the slight tremble of her lip and smell the lingering hint of jasmine from her perfume. His heart was falling fast, but he still couldn’t help but wonder if some of his own feelings had been tainted by the situation. He knew how fear could manipulate emotions. Just because they’d gone through something traumatic together didn’t mean she owed him anything, or that she was even interested in finding out more about him. But there was something in her eyes, beneath those long, dark lashes, that made him believe she was feeling some of the same emotions he was.

Her lips curved into a slight smile. “Thank you.”

He resisted the urge to grasp her hands. “For what?”

“For being here for me.”

“Anytime.”

“I need to go see my sister. And I’m sure you’ve still got a lot of work ahead of you in wrapping everything up.”

“Yeah. But first, do you need me to get you a ride to the hospital?”

“No, I’ll be okay.”

She still hadn’t moved. Like she didn’t want to go. He didn’t want her to go either. If he had his way, he’d sweep her away to some quiet place far away from here where they could sit and talk. Where he could put his arms around her and tell her he had this crazy idea he was falling for her.

“But there is something you can do for me.” Her smile faded as she looked up at him and caught his gaze. “Promise me you’ll find out the truth as to why Rafael had to die.”

17

E
mily took the last sip of her coffee as she headed toward her car. She knew exactly what her sister would say if she could read her mind right now. She’d tell her she was crazy to trust Mason, and even crazier to be thinking she’d love the chance to get to know him better. Avery would tell her to stay away from a man she was convinced had played a role in the death of their brother. Emily tossed the empty cup into the trash can at the edge of the parking lot. Even she knew that all her sister’s evidence was only circumstantial. And today she’d seen the side of Mason she remembered. Compassion. Empathy. Concern.

That wasn’t the kind of man who betrayed his best friend.

Emotions jumbled, she managed to make it to the staff parking lot without running into any reporters. All she wanted to do right now was ensure her sister was okay, then go home and collapse, though she still wasn’t sure she wanted to be alone. Every time she closed her eyes she heard the gunshot that killed Rafael and saw the black body bag.

A voice called to her from behind. She stopped beside her car and turned around to see Charlie. Ex-fiancé . . . the man she’d once loved. Or at least thought she’d loved. He always managed to look perfect, even after working all day. Suits paired with expensive silk ties and high-end loafers. Never secondhand.
Charlie was the last person she felt like dealing with at the moment.

“Emily . . . hey.” He jogged the short distance between them. “I know you’ve been through so much today. I wanted to check to see how you’re doing. Are you okay?”

She felt her blood pressure rise. Why was everyone asking her if she was okay? She wasn’t okay. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be okay again. Or at least she’d never look at things the same. Charlie and her sister dealt with situations like this every day: dead bodies, criminals, arrests. But not her. Those were the things she watched on television—ironically as an escape. Not something she experienced in real life.

Charlie reached out to grasp her arm. She pulled away and took a step back. The gesture felt too intimate. Too personal.

“I’m sorry.” Charlie cleared his throat. “I just . . . I know things are over between us, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still care about what happens to you.” He leaned against the car parked beside hers and folded his arms across his chest, giving her the space she needed. “You know I still care, don’t you? If anything would have happened to you today, I never would have been able to forgive myself for not having insisted on being the negotiator.”

Charlie had always known what to say to get what he wanted. He was suave, confident, self-assured. But she’d gotten over that a long time ago.

“Nothing happened to me—physically anyway. I’m fine.”

“When you were in there, I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my entire life.”

“I’m thankful to be alive, but there’s a dead boy who should still be alive as well.”

“I know.” He cracked the knuckles of his left hand one at a time. “But he held your class hostage, shot a student, and tried to take out an officer. All you have to do is watch the news to
see what can happen when someone brings a gun into a school. You could have died in there.”

“But I didn’t.” She shook her head, wondering how long it took to shake the fear that had surrounded her the past few hours. How long would it take to forgive herself for not finding a way to save Rafael? How long would her heart hurt because things had ended this way? No matter what anyone said, Rafael died to save his family.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through all of this, but it’s over and you’re okay,” he said. “That’s what counts.”

“Do you remember Rafael?”

“I . . . you talked about so many of your students.”

Of course he wouldn’t remember. Not that it mattered anymore.

“I’ve been working with him the past three years, since he was a freshman in high school. He was planning to go to college next year. He was bright and had plans.”

“I know he was one of your students, but he gave up his right for freedom when he decided to take a class hostage. Maybe it shouldn’t have ended the way it did, but according to the captain, they didn’t have a choice.”

“I was told the same thing.”

“It’s the downside of what we do, Emily. Sometimes there’s a price in bringing justice to the world.”

She studied his expression. Confident. Self-assured. He hadn’t changed at all. His job had always come first and had always been more important than what she did. He might have loved her, but to Charlie, being a schoolteacher hadn’t exactly fit the bill of saving the world. To her, though, the impact she tried to make on the students’ lives mattered. And when she couldn’t make that difference, it hurt.

“I was making progress with him . . . I honestly believe that he would have let everyone go if he hadn’t been pushed.”

“I wasn’t there, but I do know that the captain wouldn’t have shot him unless he knew he had to. Believe me when I say that I wish the situation would have ended differently. His death was an unfortunate ending to a very unfortunate situation.”

“An unfortunate ending?” Emily shook her head. “Is that what you plan to tell his mother?”

Charlie shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “How did I get to be the bad guy here?”

“You’re not . . . I’m sorry.” He was right. She shouldn’t take out her frustrations on him. “It’s just that last week he was accepted to college. He had his entire life ahead of him.”

“He held a bunch of students at gunpoint and shot one of them. There is no excuse for something like that.” His expression softened. “Please, Emily. Don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you.” Emily pushed the button on her car fob and unlocked her vehicle. “I just want to go check on my sister, then find a way to put all of this behind me.”

“I heard your sister’s going to be okay?”

“Yeah. It could have been so much worse.”

She started to open the car, but he grabbed her free hand.

“Emily, wait.”

“What is it?”

“Before you go, there’s something else I need to say. I . . . I know you’re going to think I’m crazy, but while you were in there with those students, it made me start thinking again about you . . . about us. This isn’t the first time I’ve regretted us calling off the wedding. Today brought everything back and made me realize how much I need you back in my life.”

She wasn’t in the mood to argue the fact that it hadn’t been a mutual decision. She’d been the one who’d called off the wedding, though she was certain the entire police force believed he was the one who’d dumped her. She’d never attempted to change anyone’s perspective. It didn’t make any difference to her. The
only thing that did matter was the fact that all the feelings she’d once had for Charlie were gone.

“As soon as I’m finished,” he continued, “we could go somewhere for dinner. You’ve been through a lot. I could listen. You’re going to need someone to talk to.”

He’d always been a charmer, but it just wasn’t enough anymore. “I can’t, Charlie. You know as well as I do that things are over between us, and that isn’t ever going to change.”

“I think you’re wrong. I think you still care about me as much as I care about you.”

She looked up at him, clean-cut, suave, and good looking. He’d swept her off her feet, but instead of falling in love with him, she’d been caught up with the idea of getting married—until the desire to get married had become more important than the person she was marrying. She’d finally realized she had to walk away.

Two weeks before they’d planned to send out the announcements and order the cake, she’d returned the engagement ring he’d given her. Most of her friends hadn’t understood why she’d broken things off. Sometimes even she wasn’t sure when she’d first realized her relationship with Charlie simply wasn’t what she was looking for.

She wanted a marriage like her mother and father, who’d managed to make it through both the good and the bad, who had a marriage where Christ was the foundation, and where divorce wasn’t an option. Maybe she was an old-fashioned optimist, but she was searching for the same thing.

Ultimately, Charlie didn’t end up being the man she knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with—even if she was pushing thirty and still dreamed of having a family. It was a choice she’d yet to regret.

“Neither of us were ready for marriage, Charlie, and you know that. I want the ring, a family, the house eventually, but—”

“Not with me? What if you’re wrong? About us. Take me up on my offer. We’ll go eat somewhere after I wrap things up here. No strings attached, just you and me. And if in the process we discover something is left between us—”

“There isn’t anything left between us, Charlie. And while I appreciate your concern, I’ll be fine.”

Eventually.

She looked past Charlie to the school. Mason was standing on the front steps of the school, talking with another officer. He and Charlie were complete opposites. While both were focused on bringing justice to a messed-up world, Mason was far more laid back in his jeans and five o’clock shadow. Charlie was the polished one, always knowing what to say and when to say it.

Funny how it seemed that coming from a family of cops she was destined to fall for a cop, no matter how hard she tried to resist. First Charlie, now Mason . . . Emily’s gaze dipped. No. She hadn’t fallen for Mason. There was a difference between admiration and infatuation.

“Emily?”

She turned back to Charlie. “I’m sorry.”

His eyes darkened. “So it’s Mason now?”

“He’s just a friend. My family has known him for years.”

“What happened in there between the two of you? I saw you together a few minutes ago. You looked . . . cozy.”

“There’s nothing going on between Mason and me. He did a good job today. He handled things well, helped to keep the students calm—”

“And wasn’t able to stop Rafael from getting shot.”

She shook her head. “That wasn’t his fault, and he saved the kids that were in there.”

“Maybe, but he had no business trying to negotiate a hostage situation. He’s an undercover cop, for goodness’ sake. If I had been there, things would have ended differently.”

“Would they? I don’t think there’s any way to know that.” She frowned. He always had been so sure of himself. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m going now.”

“Let me call you. Once this is behind us.”

She shook her head. “Don’t call me. We’re through, Charlie.”

A message beeped on her phone. She pulled it from her pocket, glanced at the message, and felt her chest heave.

This isn’t over. We have Tess.

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