Altercation Page 6

  “Yes, the basic story,” Banks agreed.

  The door to the back office opened, and Crystal and Ricky came down the hall.

  “All right,” Crystal said with a flashing smile, “I’m off to find Neal.” She pulled out her badge and let herself downstairs.

  Ricky plopped into the chair next to Jaci, and she lost all desire to go downstairs. “Boy, you don’t ever stop talking, do you, Agent?”

  Banks steepled his fingers. “I’m just curious how the girls ended up in Vermont. Did you hitch-hike?”

  “We walked,” Jaci said.

  “They like walking,” Ricky supplied. “And running.”

  “You walked everywhere?”

  She nodded, remembering the bleeding feet, the worn shoes. “Everywhere.”

  “And where did you sleep?”

  “Outside. In the woods, under porches. Away from people.”

  “No sign of The Hand in all this?”

  “No. Oh, wait!” She leaned forward. “Right when we got to Vermont, one of his men pulled up in a car next to us. He told us they were waiting for us at the police station. We booked it out of there and decided not to go to the police in Vermont.”

  “Did he try and follow you?”

  “I don’t know. We ran and hid.”

  “How long were you in the Adirondack Park?”

  Jaci glanced at Ricky. His hazel eyes were serious, for once, watching her. She shrugged. “I really have no idea. We stopped in a small town and met the boys. They wanted to come with us. Only later did we realize that they were Sara’s brothers.” She wiped her palms on her pants.

  “You’re sure Sara wasn’t trying to find her brothers?”

  “She didn’t know we existed,” Ricky interrupted. “We didn’t know about her, either.”

  “Maybe Sara knew,” Banks said.

  Jaci shook her head. “No, she didn’t. She didn’t know she was adopted until six months ago.”

  “Who had the map?”

  “Sara.” Jaci blinked. “Are you saying she led us to the boys?”

  “I’m only asking questions.”

  “No. She didn’t know about them.” Jaci searched her memory. Had Sara shown any reaction when they met Neal and Ricky? No, none. She was certain Sara hadn’t known about them.

  “Were there any incidents involving The Hand while you were in the park?”

  “No.” Yes. Jaci paused, suddenly remembering the moment in the woods where the two men dressed as hunters had attacked them. “Wait. There was an incident.” She tried to focus her thoughts. All she could remember was Sara screaming and then Ricky and Neal chasing the men off. “Some men. In the woods.” Her hands shook, and she balled them into fists. The memory left her breathless. “I can’t remember. But Neal and Ricky . . .”

  She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

  Ricky grabbed her hand, unfolding her fingers and squeezing them. She peeked at him, but he was looking at the agent.

  Banks leaned forward. “What happened?”

  “We can talk about this later,” Ricky said, his tone curt. “In private.”

  Jaci hated what Neal and Ricky had done, but she had to defend them. She couldn’t let the FBI think badly of them for it. “They had to protect us.” She licked her lips, a sick feeling gnawing at her gut. Revulsion filled her every time she thought about it.

  “Jaci, don’t,” Ricky said softly.

  “They killed one of the men. The other one got away.” She blew the words out in a rush, eager to get them off her tongue.

  Ricky stood up quickly, dropping her hand. Banks looked at him.

  “We’ll talk later,” Ricky said. Jaci couldn’t meet his eyes. He sounded angry.

  The downstairs door slammed shut behind him, and Banks turned to her. “Tell me what happened,” he said gently. “They killed one of The Hand’s men?”

  “Yes.”

  “You saw them kill him?”

  Jaci stared at him. “No!” What did he think, that she would sit down and watch them murder someone? She couldn’t even bear the thought. She didn’t want to imagine their hands stained with another man’s blood.

  “Then why do you think they killed him?”

  “Because—” Why? Why was that so deeply embedded in her mind? “Because they said they did. They said the other one got away.”

  “He got away? Did he cause more trouble? Were there any other incidents with The Hand after that?”

  “No.”

  “What happened with the police in Rome?”

  Jaci cringed. “What do you mean? You mean how they caught us? Or how we got away?”

  He rubbed a hand over his short brown hair and sighed. “You’ll have to give full testimony on this later, Jaci, but why did you shoot the police officer?”

  She gasped. “How did you know I did it?”

  He stared at her a moment, and then gave a low chuckle. “I didn’t. I meant ‘you’ as in ‘you guys.’ But thanks for letting me know.”

  Jaci shoved her hands through her hair, tugging at the roots. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I hate guns. I hate them.”

  “Jaci, we already know those policemen were operating under false orders. Just tell me what happened.”

  She took a deep, careful breath. “They were both unconscious. Neal took one of their guns. He gave it to me because he had to help Amanda.” Tears welled up in her eyes. She could feel the hot metal in her hands, the sleek, polished weapon. “The other policeman started shooting at us. Neal told me to shoot him. I didn’t really know what to do, I couldn’t think. So I did.” She trembled a little and reached for the box of tissues, knocking it down the table.

  Banks pushed it back to her. “How did you know how to use it?”

  “I didn’t. I just pulled the trigger.” Even as she said it, a hazy image popped into her mind. Her, a small child in her backyard, a pistol in her hand. Shooting soda cans with her father. Something about safeties and keeping both eyes open. She pressed the bottoms of her palms into her forehead.

  “Can you tell me anything else?”

  She shook her head. “No.” She didn’t raise her eyes.

  “Jaci, you haven’t tried to contact anyone on the outside, have you?”

  She lifted her head in surprise. “No. I haven’t. Wasn’t that one of the rules?”

  “Even before you got to the safe house. Say, perhaps when you were with Agent Reynolds?”

  “No.”

  “All right.” He gave her a smile. “Why don’t you go rest now? You look exhausted. If you see Amanda, tell her to come on up here. It will be her turn with Florence soon.”

  Jaci pushed her chair back. “Okay.”

  Chapter Nine

  Jaci found Amanda and Ricky downstairs on the sofa, watching an unfamiliar sitcom. The glare from the orange sunset outside reflected off the plasma screen. A knot formed in her stomach and she twisted her fingers, studying Ricky’s profile in the dim light. He didn’t look angry. The actress on the television said something and Ricky laughed. He glanced her way.

  She ducked her head, a bit embarrassed to be caught staring. “Amanda. Agent Banks said to come upstairs. It’s almost your turn.”

  Amanda stood, pulling her arms up above her head in a stretch. “Agent Banks?”

  “Yep.”

  Amanda dropped her arms and crossed the room. Warily, Jaci sank onto the couch, sitting on the edge of the cushion, back straight. She kept her hands wrapped around one knee, careful not to touch Ricky, even on accident. “How’d it go with the shrink?”

  He picked up the remote control and changed the channel. “She can’t help me. She just wants to talk.”

  “Where’s Sara?”

  “Don’t know.”<
br />
  Jaci stood up. “I’m going to run.”

  “Is that how you deal with things?”

  She turned and found him studying her. “I—I just feel like running.”

  “You could stay.”

  She paused. “You’re not angry at me?”

  Ricky frowned at her. “Why would I be mad at you?”

  “For telling Agent Banks what happened.”

  Something flashed in his eyes for a moment. “He shouldn’t have asked you. I wanted to tell him.”

  “You’re right,” Jaci said, sitting down again. “I wasn’t even there. I should have let you explain it.”

  “Forget it.” Ricky turned the TV off. “Hey Jaci, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you. If it’s okay.”

  Jaci leaned her head forward and peered at him. “Okay . . .”

  “Why didn’t you tell us about Callie?”

  That wasn’t the question she had been expecting. She squeezed the upholstery beneath her fingers. “I couldn’t bear thinking about her.”

  “Who was she?”

  “Callie was my best friend,” Jaci said. “It was her birthday party.” Callie’s face flashed before her eyes, the sky-blue eyes behind wire frames.

  “What happened to her?”

  “She was shot.” Jaci hugged herself, wishing that he would touch her, try to comfort her in some way. But Ricky didn’t move from his side of the couch.

  “And you saw it?”

  “Yes.” She couldn’t take the guilt anymore. “It was my fault.”

  “What?”

  Jaci met his eyes. “I promised Callie I would try to escape with her. We figured if we both tried, they wouldn’t have time to take us both out. When the kidnappers stopped the van, she said it was time. But I lost my nerve.” She swallowed hard. “She counted on me and I didn’t go.”

  Sara’s voice came from the bedroom doorway behind them. “You can’t blame yourself, Jaci.”

  Jaci glanced over the couch. “Oh, Sara.”

  “Yeah what she said, Jace.” Ricky leaned forward, pressing his hands on his knees. “He might have shot you both. And then Sara and Amanda. She shouldn’t have run.”

  “Shouldn’t have run?” Jaci exclaimed. “So we were just supposed to accept being kidnapped? We had to try!”

  “And Callie knew that.” Sara came around to Jaci. “She took the risk.”

  Jaci put her head in her hands. “She shouldn’t have died!”

  Footsteps clattered down the stairs. Amanda appeared briefly on the bottom step, and then disappeared into their bedroom. The door slammed shut.

  Jaci met Sara’s eyes, her own concerns momentarily pushed aside. She stood up and together they went to the bedroom.

  “Amanda?” Jaci called, unlocking the door.

  Amanda bent over the sinks, splashing water on her splotchy face. “Counselor Florence wants to see you,” she said without lifting her head from the sink.

  “See who?” Sara asked.

  “You.” Amanda turned and stumbled to her bed. “I don’t feel well.” She lay down and put the pillow over her head.

  Amanda had not once, during the entire kidnapping and escape, broken down and cried. Not even when Callie was shot. Jaci moved to the bed and sat down on the edge. “Amanda? We’re here. We know what you’re going through.”

  Someone knocked on the door. Sara opened it, and Neal poked his head in. “Sara? Counselor Florence wants to see you.”

  Sara looked at Jaci and Amanda and folded her arms across her chest. “Not today. Don’t feel like it.”

  Chapter Ten

  Before we get to the hands-on training,” Agent Magrew said, looking around at the teens in the dojo, “I want to talk about avoiding bad situations. Think about your kidnapping. If you could do it over again, what would you do different?”

  Counselor Florence hadn’t made Sara go in for an interview yesterday, nor had she made an appearance today. But Jaci thought she might prefer meeting with the counselor over thinking about Agent Magrew’s question. It troubled her. It gave her permission to browse through her “what if” options.

  “I wouldn’t have gone to the door,” Amanda said.

  Jaci leaned forward to see her better. That was the closest Amanda had come to admitting a fault in their kidnapping. It occurred to Jaci then that maybe she felt a lot of guilt. Maybe Amanda’s ambivalence was her mask.

  Magrew nodded. “Stay away from the trouble. Anything else?”

  “Run away,” Jaci said. She knew she would gather her three friends and run as far from the mall as possible.

  “Excellent. Flee. Any more?”

  Jaci thought about that night, explored alternate scenarios. She shook her head.

  “Good,” Magrew said. “You get the idea, then. Run away. Don’t try to fix it. Now, let’s say that you still get into trouble. If you don’t fight, you will be a victim. It’s not even a question. So, I’m going to show you some moves.” Magrew’s eyes wandered over the girls and boys. “Amanda, can I use you as a volunteer?”

  “Sure.”

  Amanda stepped forward. Magrew encircled her wrist with her hand. “Break out of my grip.”

  Amanda yanked her hand back, but Magrew held tight. “I’m not sure how,” Amanda said.

  “The weakest part of the hand is the thumb. If you look where my hand is, you’ll see my thumb is under your wrist. So pull down. Break that hold. Try it now.”

  Amanda did as instructed, pulling her hand toward her knee. Magrew’s hold broke. “Excellent. Let’s break into pairs and try it.”

  Jaci turned to Sara. “Can you do this, Sara?”

  Sara’s eyes blazed. “Of course I can.”

  They went through the exercise a few more times. Jaci was glad to learn it, but she wondered what good it was. If they had known these moves the night they were kidnapped, would things have been different? Jaci doubted it. And would it make a difference in the future? She hoped she would never have to find out.

  “The next one I’m going to show you requires caution on your parts because it can be deadly. Let’s say someone gets you in a headlock. Amanda, throw your arm around my neck from behind me and hold on tight.” Magrew had to squat a little bit for Amanda to reach. “This hold is dangerous for the victim. If Amanda were a serious perpetrator, she would squeeze my throat so tightly that it would cut off my blood and air supply. I’d have about three seconds before passing out. But you can get out of this.”

  Magrew reached behind her head and grabbed a handful of Amanda’s thick red hair. “You grab the back of the head with one hand. With the other, grab the face.” She put her hand over Amanda’s nose and mouth. “Use your grip to pull the head around your body and throw your opponent on the ground. If your attacker has his right arm around you, you grab the hair with your right hand.” She demonstrated in slow motion. “This move is not a joke. The goal is to kill your attacker, or at the very least, debilitate him by breaking his neck.” She lowered Amanda onto the ground. “Use caution with each other.”

  Jaci watched the move with growing anxiety. Three seconds? In that brief moment of time and panic, how was she supposed to remember what to do? What if she grabbed the hair with the wrong hand?

  “Let’s try this,” Sara said, moving in front of Jaci.

  Jaci took a deep breath and shook off her thoughts. “Don’t hurt me, okay?”

  “I won’t.”

  “Good,” Agent Magrew said, walking around the room. “Good job, Jaci. You and Sara did that well.”

  Jaci redid her ponytail. “But how are we supposed to remember all this? Especially in a tense situation?”

  “We’ll practice every day that you’re here,” Magrew said. “You must make the moves instinctual. You w
on’t get a second chance.”

  “It’s great in theory,” Amanda said as the three girls walked back to their room after the lesson. “But what good are those moves going to be against a gun?”

  “Or a man with no hair?” Sara added.

  Jaci kept quiet. She hoped she never got the opportunity to try it, but if she did, she relished the idea of breaking a few necks. The thought spread guilt through her stomach like an oil spill, and she thrust it aside.

  October 30, Shelley, Idaho

  Carl waited on the doorstep of the Rivera’s two-story redbrick house, hoping Marcela Rivera would answer quickly. The orange jeep in the driveway indicated that her son was home, but he didn’t know if that meant Mrs. Rivera was there.

  Carl had a search warrant and could enter the home anytime he wanted, but so far the Rivera’s had been more than willing to let him in. He wanted to keep it that way.

  He glanced around the landscaped yard. The house sat about fifty yards back from the street, a long gravel drive leading out to the road. He guessed another two or three acres surrounded it in the back. He wondered how they were getting by financially. He made a mental note to ask Mrs. Rivera. He couldn’t really donate money, of course, but maybe he could point her toward government agencies that could help.

  The front door opened, revealing Seth, the oldest child. “Hey, Detective.” The nineteen-year-old boy pushed open the screen door and put a pumpkin on the porch. “Come on in.”

  Carl glanced at the pumpkin. “Is that your offering to the Halloween ghost?”

  Seth smirked. “Yeah. Not much.”

  Carl eyed the young man, feeling sorry for him. He was an athlete, like Jaci. Wiry muscles filled out the tight Rugby shirt. He must’ve just gotten out of the shower, judging from his wet, curly black hair.

  Seth lifted his eyes, his gaze hardening. “You coming in?”

  “Yes.” Carl grabbed the screen door and walked in after him. “Thanks.”