Fatal Exchange (2 page)

E
mily punched the alarm button on her key fob, then started up the brick path toward Dogwood Academy’s main entrance, wondering why she’d wasted a perfectly good weekend by agreeing to a blind date with a friend of a friend. The guy ended up being a psychologist who enjoyed long-winded monologues on dream interpretation. It might not have been so bad if he’d chosen a topic she knew something about. As it turned out, he’d almost put
her
to sleep.

Which was one reason she was looking forward to finishing the last week of the semester. Christmas break meant two weeks of sleeping in amid splurges of eggnog, shopping, and no blind dates.

A gust of wind whipped under her coat. Emily shivered. Rain was predicted, and if temperatures dropped enough, snow later in the day. But despite the dreariness of the weather this time of year, and the challenge teaching could be at times, she never let herself forget how much she loved her job.

Dogwood Academy’s campus was a scattering of restored antebellum buildings from the 1800s along with modern-day structures and their ample conveniences. Beyond the refurbished main building were the music hall, athletic center, sports fields, and twenty-five acres of rolling hills and wooded running trails offering a glimpse into what Atlanta looked like a century ago.

“Emily, wait up!”

Emily paused along the manicured lawn scattered with uniformed students to let Grace Cowen catch up with her. In typical Grace fashion, she was running late, juggling armfuls of books and papers. Her dress was already somewhat disheveled, though she hadn’t even made it yet to her first-period class. There were days when Emily wondered how her friend actually made it to school. But then again, Grace’s inclination to be scatterbrained and tardy hadn’t stopped her from winning Teacher of the Year three times in a row. Students loved her.

Grace caught up with her, out of breath. “Don’t tell me you’re running late too?”

“Got here forty-five minutes ago, actually.” Emily held up her cell phone that had fallen under the passenger seat, then dropped it into her coat pocket. “Just ran out to the car to grab it. Can I help carry something?”

She reached for one of the bags that was slipping off Grace’s shoulder. They might be polar opposites in almost everything, but Grace had still managed to be a steady anchor for her for as long as she could remember. In fact, she wasn’t sure she’d still be teaching if it weren’t for Grace’s constant encouragement that had gotten her through her first couple of years.

“Take this one, actually. It’s for you.” Grace handed one of the bags to her.

Emily held up the black “Over-the-Hill Survival Kit” bag. “Are you serious?”

“Ignore the packaging. Mark made some of those to-die-for brownies you are always asking for and insisted I bring you some.”

“Oh, I love your husband.”

“You’d better watch it. He’s taken.” Grace’s laugh was drowned out by a group of students rushing past them in the school’s maroon and gray colors. “And by the way, please don’t
tell me that you picked up that outfit you’re wearing at a secondhand shop.”

Emily glanced down at the olive-green skirt peeking out from her open ’60s-inspired coat. She’d matched the skirt with a white blouse and a pair of heeled boots. “You know I prefer the word ‘vintage’ to ‘secondhand.’”

“Funny. Call it what you want, I still love the look, though I can only imagine what a pencil skirt would look like on these hips of mine.”

Emily laughed this time. Leave it to Grace to tell it like it was while not caring she wasn’t a size 4. “I can promise you, Mark will always love you no matter what you’re wearing.”

Grace blushed. “He did pick this outfit.”

“Which I also love, by the way.”

The multicolored maxi dress and denim jacket were perfect for Grace. But even more perfect was that after a year of marriage, she was still glowing. Who could have guessed that a bubbly English teacher and a highly focused industrial engineer could make such a perfect couple?

Grace nudged Emily with her elbow. “After all this time as friends, do you realize you still haven’t taken me thrift store shopping and shared your secrets? I have a feeling that Mark would love me even more if I could find an alternative location for shopping that would make up for my expensive tastes.”

Emily started walking again. “How about I do that when you stop trying to set me up on another blind date?”

“Okay. I know Saturday didn’t go well with Greg, but I’ve actually found someone else for you.”

Of course she had. “Forget it, Grace. No more blind dates. No more introducing me to lonely, desperate, single men who—”

“Just hear me out.” Grace somehow managed to grab Emily’s arm amongst all her bags. “Mark told me this morning about this new guy at his work that meets every one of your requirements.
Graphic designer, i.e., not a cop—check. Early thirties, check. Doesn’t live in his parents’ basement, check. Strong faith, check. He even plays in the worship band at his church.”

Emily stopped to face Grace and shook her head. “The problem is, even if I could check everything off, in the end I still somehow always manage to strike out. Take Charlie, for example—the last guy I fell for and the reason for the reinstated ‘not involved in any type of law enforcement’ requirement. But having all the right boxes ticked is never enough in the end, which means clearly I’m missing something. That certain spark I’ve never been able to quantify on a checklist. So for the moment, the only thing I’m looking for is a house.”

Emily started again for the front of the school. She might not currently fall in the “doesn’t live with parents” category, but her stint back home was only until she saved up enough money for a down payment.

“I just hope you enjoy cuddling up with an electric bill and a stack of frozen dinners at night,” Grace said.

Ouch. “What happened to you being my support system?”

“I always will be, and you know it. I just want you to have what Mark and I have.”

Which was one of the things that got her into trouble in the first place. Wanting to get married for the sake of getting married. That was never a good idea.

“I refuse to approach thirty in the overt, desperate manner some single women do. I’m embracing who I am, along with the fact that whether I’m twenty-five or thirty-five, I can still be happy
and
single. That is why I’m buying my own house in the suburbs, complete with a fenced-in backyard, spa tub, and adopting this adorable German shepherd puppy I found online over the weekend.”

Grace’s gaze narrowed. “If you say so.”

“I do say so, which means that for now—besides house
hunting—I’m looking forward to finishing up the semester and swinging into Christmas break, when I can spend uninterrupted hours soaking in the tub, reading, shopping, and eating as much of my mama’s cooking as I want without an ounce of guilt.”

Her Zumba classes would have to make up for the extra calories she planned to indulge in, but she’d take the class for herself, not to catch herself a man.

Grace’s high heels clicked on the sidewalk beside her as they started for the main hall. “Maybe it’s just too soon after your breaking things off with Charlie.”

Emily frowned at her friend’s comment. The fact that she’d been the one who broke things off hadn’t stopped everyone from worrying about her. “If you want to worry about someone, worry about Charlie. But the bottom line is that it’s been almost six months, and this has nothing to do with Charlie, or me, or our past relationship. It has to do with me learning to be happy being me whether I’m a part of a couple or not.”

Which was true. She’d mistaken that biological clock ticking for love, along with her mother’s nagging that made her feel as if in a few more years she’d somehow expire and get pulled from the shelf. How she’d decided Charlie was the perfect answer, she wasn’t quite sure. On the outside, he’d been a decorated officer, attentive, and above average in the looks department. But after a whirlwind romance, there had been other issues that had played in her final decision. And while she might not be ready to stop looking, neither was she ready to throw herself back into the game.

“I just was so hoping there would be a spark between you and Greg.”

“Any spark was one-sided and quickly died out. He only knows how to talk about one thing.” Her phone sounded, and Emily stopped to pull it out of her pocket. “Case in point. Greg has called me a total of seven times since Saturday night
to make sure I had a good time on our date and to ask me if I had a dream that I needed interpreted. Seven times, Grace.”

“Okay, even I admit that’s creepy.”

She checked the caller ID on the still-ringing phone. Unavailable. The guy was persistent. It was time to put an end to things. “Listen, Greg. Apparently I didn’t make myself clear the last time—”

“Emily?”

“Who’s this?’”

“Mason Taylor.”

“Mason?”

She stopped midstride. Students continued toward the crowded entrance of the school, anticipating the first bell of the day. Mason Taylor was the last person she’d expected to hear from. No matter what she thought about Avery’s investigation into her brother Michael’s death, Mason wasn’t exactly a favorite guest at the Hunt dinner table. At least when her sister was around.

“Listen, I know you’re probably getting ready to start school,” he said, “but I wonder if I could talk to you for a couple minutes. It’s something serious that involves one of your students.”

Her stomach twisted. Becoming a teacher had helped fulfill a desire to not only educate but also inspire a future generation. The thought that one of them could be in trouble left her feeling uneasy.

“Of course.” Emily glanced at her watch. She had fifteen minutes until the first bell rang. She hated being late, but not as much as she worried about one of her students getting in trouble with the law. “Where are you?”

“I’m coming up the front sidewalk right now.”

Emily turned back toward the parking lot and saw Mason walking toward her. The last time she’d seen Mason Taylor had been at her brother’s funeral. He’d changed little. He’d always
been lean, muscular, and good-looking. Funny, the memories that surfaced at the most inappropriate times. In college, she’d had a crush on Mason, with his longish, dark-blond hair and soft brown eyes, despite the fact that he was five years older than she was, one of her brother’s buddies, and not a believer. That last reason—along with the fact he was a cop—was why she’d ended up saying no the one time he’d asked her out. After that, he’d never done more than shoot her one of his heart-pounding smiles in passing.

Grace took a step closer to Emily and whispered, “Who is that?”

“He’s a detective who’s worked some with my sister.” There wasn’t time to share the rest of the family saga.

“What does he want with you?”

“I don’t know. He just said it was something urgent that had to do with one of my students.”

“Is he single?”

“Single?” Grace’s question threw Emily off. “Seriously? Every man who comes along isn’t a potential date, and this one certainly isn’t for me.”

“So you’re not going to introduce me?”

“You’re married.”

“Funny. Say what you want, I’m just trying to help you find the bit of happiness I found.”

Emily forced a smile and motioned for Grace to go on. The last thing she needed was for this to turn awkward. “No introductions today, but I promise I’ll meet you for lunch.”

“Fine. I’ll be there.”

Emily ignored the knowing look Grace shot her. She might not be convinced of Mason’s guilt like her sister was, but neither did she plan to add another cop to her list of failed relationships.

She drew in a deep breath and smiled as he walked up to her. “Mason Taylor. It’s been a long time.”

M
ason shoved his hands into his pockets, suddenly feeling out of place in his jeans, T-shirt, and leather jacket next to the uniformed students walking past them. And next to Emily. She looked ready to take on the world in her tailored skirt, shirt, and fashionable winter coat. She’d pulled her auburn hair back in some sophisticated twist that framed her face. She was still just as pretty as he remembered her.

The last time he’d seen her had been at Michael’s funeral, but even that memory didn’t stand out as much as the first time he’d met her. He’d been invited to the Hunt home for Thanksgiving dinner a couple of months after his aunt died. He was new on the force, and he and Michael had quickly become close friends. Emily had been home from college. He’d found her sweet, smart, and classy, and he hadn’t been able to stop staring at her across the table filled with the turkey and trimmings.

Michael had noticed Mason’s interest in his younger sister, teasing that she was way out of his league, but Mason hadn’t cared. Instead, after the last piece of pumpkin pie, he’d pressed Michael with a dozen questions. What was she studying? What did she do for fun? Was she dating anyone? Michael had told him right off that she wouldn’t be interested. He already had
three strikes against him. He was a cop, didn’t share her faith, and she was
way
out of his league.

Turned out Michael had been right. She’d politely declined his invitation in an awkward exchange he still preferred to forget. And at the end of the break, she’d gone off to school without giving him a second glance.

He’d seen her periodically throughout the next few years when he hung out at the Hunt home for family dinners and summer barbecues, but always from a distance. She’d been friendly, but had never done anything to encourage him, and because he respected her beliefs, he’d never pursued her. Before he knew it, she was engaged to Charlie, and he’d realized it was time to forget her. That had been just over a year ago, the Thanksgiving before Michael was killed.

Despite his determination to forget the woman now standing in front of him, clearly those old feelings hadn’t completely died. In fact, he was certain he had more courage to talk to a murder suspect while undercover than Michael’s little sister, who somehow managed to raise his heart rate even after all these years. So much for keeping things strictly business.

He turned his attention across the lawn to the parking lot where parents were dropping off students, before forcing himself to look back at those deep blue eyes of hers.

He cleared his throat. “Listen, I’m sorry to drop by unexpectedly. I’m sure you have a lot to do at the beginning of the school day.”

“That’s okay.” She glanced at her watch. “I have a few free minutes until school starts.” She nodded toward a cast-iron and wooden bench paid for by one of the school’s donors. “Out here is probably the quietest. The hallways are filled up with students hitting their lockers before school starts.”

“Okay.”

She sat down beside him, concern clearly etched in her
expression. “You said there was something wrong with one of my students.”

“It’s Rafael Cerda. He told me you know him.”

Emily’s concern turned to surprise. “Rafael? Of course I know him. Not only do I have him in class, but I tutor him as well. He’s one of my best students and honestly the last person I’d imagine in trouble with the law.”

“He’s not in trouble, but his brother is.”

She shook her head. “What’s going on?”

“Early yesterday morning, three armed men broke into their apartment. They held Rafael and his mother at gunpoint and kidnapped Eduardo.”

Emily’s face paled. “Kidnapped him? Why would they do that?”

“Rafael is convinced they grabbed the wrong person, but what we are sure of from the ransom note is that this is drug related. We think it’s connected to a rash of recent kidnappings for ransom and murders.”

“And you? What do you think? That Eduardo is mixed up with drugs?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out. What do you know about Eduardo?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “He doesn’t go to school here, so honestly, not a lot. I’ve spoken to him a few times, when Rafael has brought him to a football game or some other school activity. He’s always been quiet and polite. Rafael told me once that Eduardo could do better in school if he’d apply himself, but he’s never mentioned him being in any kind of trouble.”

“Anything else?”

“They’re close, and I know Rafael worries about him, especially since they go to different schools. That makes it harder for Rafael to keep an eye on him, but I think he’s a good kid. Rafael’s never mentioned any brushes with the law, or drugs for that matter.”

“Rafael told me the same thing.”

“So what’s your connection to Rafael? I thought you were still working undercover.”

“I am, but I’ve asked to be involved because I know Rafael.” He wrapped his fingers around the cold metal bench. “Met him a couple years ago at a youth center where I volunteer, so this has become . . . personal.”

“He’s mentioned going there,” she said. “Told me how much the center changed his life.”

“I’m glad. I came from a broken family a lot like Rafael’s, so I know what it’s like to grow up without a father.” He stopped. Emily didn’t need to hear about the sordid details from his past. “I need to know if you’ve seen Rafael this morning.”

“No, not yet. He usually comes in to see me three or four mornings a week for extra tutoring or college prep work, but he didn’t come in today. Why? Don’t you know where he is?”

Worry began to gnaw his gut. “I spoke with him this morning. He was supposed to meet me at seven thirty, after dropping his mother off at work. He didn’t show up.”

Emily’s expression mirrored his own concern. “That isn’t like Rafael. He’s always very dependable. Serious about everything he does.”

“I’ve noticed the same thing about him. What do you know about his family life?”

“Enough to know it’s not easy for him. Father left years ago. I think he eventually died from an overdose. I’ve met his mother once or twice. She works a lot of hours and isn’t around much. I know Rafael worries about Eduardo. Feels like it’s his responsibility to keep him off the streets.” Emily laced her fingers together, then quickly unfolded them to grasp the edge of the bench. “What are the kidnappers demanding?”

He hesitated before pulling out his phone and handing it to
her. “Rafael received these yesterday. They’re demanding two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

———

Emily sucked in a breath and pressed her hand against her mouth as she stared at the photos. Her stomach lurched. Growing up with most of her family on the police force had guaranteed she’d seen her fair share of the ugly realities of this world, but while she was used to hearing stories around the dinner table of what happened out on the streets, this was different. This was someone she knew.

“You can’t be serious?” She shook her head. “None of this makes any sense. Rafael goes to school here on a scholarship. His mother works at a hotel. Who in the world would think Eduardo has that kind of money?”

“That’s why Rafael is convinced this is a case of mistaken identity. He believes they picked up the wrong person.”

“Is that possible?”

“It happens.”

She gauged his expression. “But you don’t think that’s what happened in this case.”

“Honestly, I don’t know. Eduardo could be innocent, but we can’t dismiss the possibility he is involved. If he’s selling to his friends at school, kids in the neighborhood, and even throughout the school district, he could be bringing in some very serious income. And a seventeen-year-old wouldn’t necessarily realize fully who he’s dealing with and the consequences of crossing the higher-ups.”

“I still don’t understand.” Emily felt her emotions swing from shock to anger to a sick burning sensation in the bottom of her stomach. “Say he is working as a dealer. Why kidnap a source of income?”

“Typically the reason’s an overdue drug debt.”

She tried to absorb the information. “Tell me everything. Exactly what happened?”

“Eduardo was kidnapped early Sunday morning at his house. The note said they have thirty-six hours to come up with the money—that’s by two o’clock this afternoon.”

Which meant time was quickly running out.

“And if they don’t get the money? What happens then?”

“There’s a chance they’ll kill him.”

Emily handed the phone back to him, stood up, and started pacing in front of the bench. She’d never fit into this world of police and criminals. It was why she knew she’d never marry a cop. She didn’t want to spend her time worrying if her husband was coming home. Her sister, her father, her brother before he died . . . they all seemed to be able to dig deep inside themselves and come up with what they needed to handle situations they faced on the streets. But separating her heart from her work was something she’d never been able to do. Rafael wasn’t just another kid to check off the attendance list when he came into her class every morning. He was the reason she did what she did.

She turned back to Mason. “If Rafael and his mother can’t give them what they want, what do they think they’re going to get out of this?” Emily bit the edge of her lip. “He’s only seventeen.”

“Too young in most people’s minds to be involved, but certainly not impossible. It happens more often than you’d think.”

Emily shifted her attention back toward the front steps of the school where students were making their way into the main hall. They came dressed in the smart uniforms—plaid skirts or gray dress pants, crisp white shirts, and maroon blazers. But she knew that even beneath the prep school image of money and prestige, they didn’t all fit into that pristine world. Coming from a family of privilege might not be as challenging as growing up on the streets, but she knew that money didn’t fix problems.
Sometimes money made everything worse. If that was what had happened to Eduardo . . .

Mason stood up beside her, slipping the phone back in his pocket. “Eduardo isn’t the only person I’m worried about. I’m worried something might have happened to Rafael.”

Emily felt her eyes water. She hadn’t worked with Rafael all this time to have his life ruined by someone else’s foolishness.

She looked up and caught Mason’s gaze. She knew her sister believed Mason had been behind her brother’s death. But was that the truth?

What she did know for sure was that Mason knew what life was like on the streets and had contacts across the city. If anyone could find Rafael, he could. “What can I do to help?”

“If he comes to school today, I need you to call me immediately and let me know.”

“Of course.” She brought up the list of received calls on her phone and added him to her contacts.

Michael had trusted Mason. She was going to have to do the same, because teenagers shouldn’t have to deal with the dark realities of the world before even leaving home. Which was why a part of her wished she had the courage to step into her sister’s shoes so she could help stop people like those behind Eduardo’s kidnapping.

“You okay?”

“I will be.” She looked up and caught those mesmerizing eyes she’d noticed the first time they’d met. She dropped her gaze. “Rafael’s one of my success stories. He’s been accepted to the University of Georgia on a scholarship. He has plans to make a better life for himself and his family. He deserves that chance.”

“I know.”

She brushed a tear from her cheek. “Thanks for letting me know what’s going on. I’ll be praying.”

“I know you will. I’ll be praying too. I still struggle justifying
the evil that I see around me every day, but the older I get, the more I believe—have to believe—that no matter what happens, God is still in control.”

Her father had told her about Mason’s recent decision to follow Christ, making her wonder what might have happened if he’d been a believer when he’d asked her out all those years ago. Maybe she would have said yes . . .

Emily reined her thoughts back in. “I know you’ll do everything you possibly can to find both boys—and get Eduardo out alive.”

Mason nodded, then reached out and ran his fingers loosely down her sleeve. “I promise I’ll do my best.”