Altercation (5 page)

T
he least these guys could do is invest in an X-box,” Ricky complained, his fingers working on the Nintendo controllers as if they had a mind of their own. “I mean, this thing is so old school. I think my Grandma used to play this.”

“Just be glad we have one,” Neal replied, not looking away from the television screen. His avatar threw a ball of fire at Ricky’s. “Grandma couldn’t even afford this old thing.”

Jaci watched them, and had to admit it was obvious that neither of them had much practice. She was quite certain that she could beat them. Having two brothers forced her to be skilled in the arts of video games.

She had never really thought about the fact that her family didn’t struggle for money. She just assumed her dad had a good job. Where did the money come from, if he wasn’t even employed?

She wondered if the twins missed their grandmother. The woman had died a few weeks before the boys met the girls. Her death helped motivate them to leave their town behind. But they rarely mentioned her.

“You’re beating me, Neal!” Ricky cried. “How is this even possible?”

The game system beeped out an old-fashioned tune, and the words “Game Over” flashed across the screen. Neal grinned and popped his fingers. “You lose.”

Upstairs a door slammed shut, and Banks’ voice called down, “Lunch is here!”

Ricky dropped his controller and ran up the stairs as eagerly as a five-year-old.

“Oh my gosh, I’m starving,” Amanda said, heading up after him.

Sara didn’t budge from the corner of the couch where she huddled.

Jaci held out her hand. “Come sit with us, Sara. Maybe you’ll see something that looks good.”

Sara let Jaci pull her to her feet. The smell of melted cheese and greasy pepperoni hit Jaci as soon as the upstairs door opened.

“Pizza,” Neal said, a ravenous look coming into his eyes.

Jaci took two steps into the living room and stopped. The sights and smells of the Idaho Falls shopping mall flooded her senses. She remembered the chilly September air invading the food court every time a door opened, people bumping chairs, Callie laughing as she tried to bite off a strand of gooey mozzarella.

“It was her birthday,” Jaci said. She choked back a sob, the tears spilling from her eyes like water from a leaky faucet. “No one should have to die on their birthday.”

Chairs scraped back from the table, and then Agent Magrew stood next to her, wrapping her in a hug. The tall woman smelled like Dove shampoo, a scent Jaci associated with her mother. She sobbed harder.

“It’s alright,” Magrew soothed. She pulled Jaci to the couch and sat her down. “What’s wrong? What are you thinking?”

Jaci pulled away and wiped her eyes. The impulsive emotion faded, leaving behind embarrassment for breaking down in front of everyone. “I can’t eat the pizza.” The very thought made her stomach churn.

“Why?” Amanda came into the living room and sat down in front of her.

“Callie.” Jaci shook her head. “It’s the last thing Callie ever ate.”

“But you ate pizza at Natalie’s house.”

“We were starving. I didn’t care. I can’t. I can’t do it now.”

Magrew’s eyes flicked over Jaci’s face. “You don’t have to. We have plenty of other things to eat. You want a sandwich? I’ll make you one.”

“Yes.” Jaci nodded, tears welling up again. Callie hadn’t known she would never eat again. “Thank you.”

Amanda spun around to Agent Banks. “What happened that night?” she demanded. “Where was Callie’s mom? Why didn’t anyone come for us?”

“There was an accident.” Banks entered the living room and sat on the edge of the coffee table, looking at the two girls.

“An accident?” Sara echoed. She sat down next to Jaci.

“Yes. A car accident on Yellowstone Highway blocked the road.”

Jaci rubbed her finger over her eyebrow. Yellowstone Highway was the main road from Shelley to Idaho Falls. If it were blocked, the detour would add at least another forty minutes to the drive. “Unfortunate for us.”

Banks surveyed the three of them and nodded. “Very.”

Magrew handed Jaci a plate with a sandwich cut into fourths. Jaci picked at it.

Banks cleared his throat. “Tell me about that night at the mall. Why did they kidnap you?”

Jaci took the sandwich apart and tore the meat into strips, a hollow feeling building in her stomach. These were things she had done her best to forget.

Ricky broke the tense silence. “Well, I don’t know. I wasn’t even there.”

“Shut up, Ricky,” Neal murmured, his voice carrying from the kitchen. “He’s not talking to us.”

Banks looked over his shoulder at the boys and smiled dryly. “I know that. You boys didn’t come into the picture until later. So I guess that means you don’t have to answer the question.” His phone beeped, and he scrolled through a message with his thumb. “The counselor’s here.”

“You mean our shrink,” Ricky said, a corner of his mouth rising.

“She’s just going to evaluate your mental state. Please be honest with her.”

“Do we have to be?”

Banks gave Ricky a sharp look. “Yes. Richard.”

Ricky coughed. “Gotcha.”

Banks stood and pulled a clipboard from a bookshelf next to the couch. “Jacinta.”

Jaci winced. He hadn’t even tried to pronounce it in Spanish, and his gringo accent was horrible. “That’s me.”

“She’ll meet with you first.”

The door to the garage unlocked, and then a woman grunted, pushing the door open with her elbows and leaning against it. She held thick green folders in her arms. Jaci eyed her suspiciously. Her highlighted blond hair was piled on top of her head, held in place with a pencil. Stylish blue glasses framed her large blue eyes. The tight blazer and short skirt hugged her curvy body. What kind of therapy was she planning?

“Hi.” The woman flashed a smile, showing off her white teeth. “I’m Crystal Florence. Which one’s Jacinta?” She said Jaci’s name with perfect, unaccented Spanish.

“That would be me,” Jaci said, already not liking the woman. “I go by Jay-See.”

“Great. And which one’s Richard?”

“Uh, me.” Ricky stood up from the table, his gaze dropping below her face and then up again.

“You’ll be next. Come on, Jaci.” She walked through the living room and down the hallway, motioning for Jaci to follow.

They stepped into the second office, the one with the closet full of random clothing. A sofa, two beanbags, and a la-z-boy were the only furnishings.

“Anywhere you want to sit,” Florence said, settling herself on a corner of the sofa. “And you can call me Crystal.”

Jaci sat on a beanbag, feeling awkward and small at the way it swallowed her up.

Crystal reached up and brushed back a strand of blond hair. “We’re just going to talk. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

Jaci stared at the shaggy carpet. There was nothing she wanted to talk about.

“Who gave you your nickname?”

“I did. Nobody at school could say ‘Jacinta.’ They called me ‘Beaner’ instead. So I shortened my name to Jaci.”

“How old were you?”

She shrugged. “Seven? Eight?”

“Can you speak Spanish?”

“Of course.”

“How are your parents?”

Jaci’s thoughts flew to her father. She studied Crystal. “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

Crystal dropped her eyes and twiddled a pen between her fingers. “Well, Jaci, if you don’t know, I certainly don’t.”

Jaci doubted that. She resented the secrets, even if they were supposed to ‘protect’ her. “Are you a doctor?”

“No. I’m a licensed therapist.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you want to do this?”

Crystal crossed her bare leg over the other one, the tight skirt revealing muscular thighs. “I always enjoyed helping my friends when they had personal issues. I realized I like talking things out. And few people need to talk things out more than those who have been through a traumatic situation. Unfortunately, those are the hardest to talk about. Nobody wants to relive something horrible.”

Jaci paused, considering that. “So why don’t we talk about something else?”

“If it will make you feel better.”

The patronizing tone grated on Jaci’s nerves. “Nothing will make me feel better.”

“Tell me something you like to do.”

“I like to run.”

“That’s right. You’re on the track team?”

“Yes.”

Crystal leaned forward and touched Jaci’s knee. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore, Jacinta.”

Jaci pulled her leg away, heat rising in her face. The very mention of fear made her heart pound. She took several deep breaths. “How do you know Spanish?”

Crystal settled back in her chair. “It’s an important language to know in this country. I hope someday to live in a Spanish-speaking country.”

“Oh.”

“How are you feeling, Jaci?”

Jaci crossed her arms over her stomach. “I’m a little hungry.”

Crystal stood up, smoothing her satiny skirt. “Well, Jaci, we’re done. Shall we go get Richard?”

Jaci pushed herself from the pink beanbag. “That was it?”

“What did you think, I was going to drink your blood? That’s it.”

“Did you learn anything?”

“Oh, tons.” Crystal’s eyes sparkled. “You have a strong personality with the desire to control your situation.”

“Are you saying I’m controlling?”

“You like things to be your idea, at least.”

Ricky and Agent Banks were the only ones on the first floor when Jaci and Crystal walked out. They sat at the kitchen table, talking quietly.

“Are you Richard?” Crystal asked, stopping in front of him.

He pulled on his earlobe. “Uh, yeah.”

“Come on, then.”

“Sit, Jacinta,” Agent Banks said in his horrible Gringo accent, pulling out a chair opposite of the one Ricky had just vacated.

“I go by Jaci.” She’d go crazy if he said her name again.

“Oh, that’s right. How was it with Agent Florence?”

Jaci found the remains of her sandwich and sat down. “It wasn’t so bad, thank heavens. Where is everyone?”

“Downstairs.” He got up and poured himself a cup of juice. “We can go down if you want.”

“That’s okay.” She put her sandwich back together and took a bite.

“You started to tell me before we were interrupted. What happened that night at the mall?”

“Don’t you already know?” She swallowed.

“We know that there was a robbery and that The Hand kidnapped you. But why?”

Jaci closed her eyes. “We were at the mall. It was late and we went outside to wait for Callie’s mom. She didn’t show.” Jaci took a deep breath, sandwich forgotten. “Okay. Anyway. All the cars left and it was just us. A black van pulled up to the jewelry store. Amanda—” Jaci stopped and shook her head. The terror of that night rushed back at her, and she clutched at the table. The feeling was so tangible that the hairs on her neck stood up.

“Would you like a drink of water?” Banks murmured.

I’m safe. We’re not there anymore.
She had to get over this fear. “No. I’m fine. When the van pulled up, Amanda wanted to check it out. We tried to convince her not to, but she insisted on keeping watch at the doorway while I called the police. I guess they saw her. Callie screamed. Sara yelled at me to run. A man grabbed me, then he knocked me out with some chemical.”

“Some chemical?” Banks echoed, his eyes on her. His unibrow arched.

“I’m not sure which.” She wasn’t as good at chemistry as she was at biology. “It smelled awful, and it burned my nose. I woke up in the back of the van. We were all there. Callie told me she and Sara had tried to run, but he’d chased them down. She and I made plans to escape.” Jaci closed her eyes, hot tears making trails on her cheeks.

“She was still alive at this point, then.”

Jaci nodded.

“Did you see Callie die?”

“We all saw it.” Jaci pushed her hand against her chest, trying to ease the pain. “Callie and I heard a car coming. She ran for the road. They shot her before she got there.” The words choked out of her. She wanted to vomit, and all she could do was cry. She couldn’t even tell him the worst part.

Banks opened the pantry and pulled out a box of tissues. He gave it to her. “That must have been awful to see.”

Jaci grabbed a couple of tissues and nodded. She struggled to compose herself, returning that memory to its neat black box.
Close the lid. Leave it there.

“You’re lucky they didn’t shoot all of you. What happened after that?”

“They put us back in the van. We were there for at least two days. We got hungry, so we went through the boxes looking for food.”

“What did the van look like? What was in it?”

“It was a black van. And it was full of boxes and crates. Most were empty, but some had jewels in them.”

“Was The Hand there?”

“No. There were three men, but Claber was the only one who talked to us. We didn’t meet The Hand till we got to his house.”

“Okay. So you looked through boxes for food.”

“Right. But all we found was jewelry. Amanda took some.”

“She took it?”

Jaci nodded. “Yes. She probably still has it.” She ran a hand through her long black hair. The crying had sapped her energy. “I’m tired. I don’t really feel like talking anymore.”

Banks nodded. “That’s fine, Jaci. Go rest. We’ll talk later.”

Jaci scooted her chair back and then paused. There was something she was dying to know. “I have a question.”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you know about my father?”

A
gent Banks jerked back as if scalded, eyes widening slightly. “What about your father?”

Jaci noted his reaction and phrased her response accordingly. “He’s missing. My mother told me the police have been in our house searching. Why?”

His shoulders relaxed. “We need to make sure there’s no foul play involved. Could be he just up and left, or could be related to what happened to you.”

Jaci’s mouth trembled, and she felt the words on the tip of her tongue. The Carnicero. The Butcher. That’s what The Hand had called her father. She shook her head. It was difficult to remember that revelatory conversation where she overheard The Hand’s plans for them. “Okay.”

“Do you know if The Hand planned to sell you, Jaci?”

Why did he ask that? Jaci narrowed her eyes at him. It was almost as if he knew about the conversation. Was it related to her father’s disappearance? “I don’t know. Maybe. If he did, we escaped before he could.”

“Pretty clever escaping out the bathroom window.”

Jaci nodded.

“And they didn’t catch you?”

“No. We ran into the forest.”

“And then what?”

“A girl found us. Natalie.” Jaci sighed, beginning to feel annoyed by the questions. “I’m sure it’s in a report somewhere.”

“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.”