Hostage Zero

“He’s only thirteen,” Gail said. She turned in her chair to face Alice, betting that a maternal instinct burned inside every woman. “If you have any clue where your brother might be…” There was no need to complete the sentence.

“Don’t say a word, Alice,” Ken warned. “This could very well be a trick. How many times have they tried this in how many ways? If anyone so much as thinks that we know anything about Bruce-and I’m not saying we do-we’ll never be left alone. If the feds don’t put us in jail, those mob assholes will put us in graves.”

Gail raised a hand this time. “Why would they do that?” she asked. “What am I missing here? Is this about the money you were talking about?”

“Do you really not know?” Alice asked.

“Alice, don’t,” Ken said.

“I really don’t,” Gail said. “Things are happening so quickly now that I haven’t had a chance to do the kind of research I need to. Eight hours ago, I was visiting Frank Schuler on death row in Virginia. He mentioned the connection with your brother, and a colleague was able to get me your address. I found a plane, and here I am. Please share with me what you know.”

Ken leaned in closer. “Alice, you don’t have to say anything. I still say this could be a trap.”

Gail snapped, “Of course it could be a trap. I could have been an assassin with orders to kill you all. I could have been here with a surprise inheritance. There are any number of things that I could be, Ken. But the fact of the matter is I’m a former police officer and a former FBI agent, and right now I’m doing my best to save a little boy’s life. You can believe whatever you want of that, but why don’t you try-just try-to believe the truth and help me do my job?”

“You’re not the first, you know,” Alice said, her tone soft. She waved for Gail to put the picture of Jeremy away. “Everybody assumes we know where Bruce is, or if we don’t, that we know where the money is, but it’s been long enough that they’re convinced that we’re not lying.”

Gail heaved an exasperated sigh. “What money? What was it for?”

“It was mob money,” Alice explained. “Bruce was the middleman. That’s what he did. There was a payment supposed to be made, but it never arrived. It was a lot of money-a couple hundred thousand dollars. He says he never got it, but he had to run because the mob would assume that he had, and they’d come after him.”

Ken chimed in, “So instead, the asshole just runs away anyway, confirming in their minds that he did exactly what they thought he did. The feds think it, too.”

“What was the money for?” Gail asked.

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to know,” Alice said. “I’m ashamed that he would have anything to do with such things.”

“But you know where he is,” Gail guessed.

“I don’t.”

“Then how do you know that he didn’t, in fact, take the money? How do you know he was the middleman?”

Alice gaped.

Gail closed the noose: “You said, ‘He says he never got it.’ That means you’ve talked to him since he disappeared.”

Ken growled, “Damn it, Alice, I told you that we never should have answered the door.”

Alice looked stunned. Her mouth worked as if to speak, but she produced no words.

Gail moved to seal the deal. She leaned forward and put her hand on Alice’s knee. The other woman jumped, but Gail kept her hand in place. “I swear to you that I am exactly who I say I am, and whatever you tell me will remain in the strictest confidence.”

Gail thought she saw cracks in the wall. “Sooner or later, you have to trust someone. Everybody does. Given the stakes-a child’s life-don’t you think that this might be a good time to start?” As she invoked Jeremy Schuler yet again, her thoughts went back to the anguish in his father’s face as he envisioned a scenario that was far worse than the reality, and she again fought a pang of conscience. Manipulating the truth to gain a greater truth was a part of her job to which she would never fully adjust.

Ken stood. “It’s time for you to leave.”

Gail kept her eyes on Alice. “You know what’s the right thing to do. Just let yourself do it.”

“Don’t make me throw you out,” Ken said.

That got her attention. Gail eyed the man with gentle amusement. “Ken, with all respect, if you lay a hand on me, I’ll put your head right through one of these plaster-lathe walls. Please sit down.” One thing about being a woman on the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team: you learned how not to get pushed around by people who were bigger than you. The only hyperbole in the threat was the part about sending his head through the wall. Chances are it would have gotten stuck somewhere in the middle.

Ken looked like he’d been smacked. He looked to Alice for backup, and when it didn’t arrive, he turned to huff out of the room.

“Please stay with us,” Gail said. Her tone made it clear that the word please only softened a stark command. “You’re upset. I don’t want to worry about you going to get a weapon and sneaking up on me.”

He hesitated.

“I’m almost done,” she promised. She gestured back to his pile of magazines.

He hesitated, and then he sat.