Paying The Piper (22 page)

“Steady, Jane,” Rooker said.

“Scott wanted it this way,” Sheils said. “Don’t worry, though. I might have lost him for now, but I’ve got the bases covered. I’ll pick him up again. Just trust me. Okay?”

Jane exhaled. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m just so scared.”

“Just know Scott isn’t in any danger for now.”

“How do you know that?” Rooker asked.

“The Piper has put Scott on BART to lose us. He won’t attempt anything there. There are cameras in all the cars. He won’t risk getting ID’d, and he can’t contact Scott while he’s underground.”

“What about when he gets off BART and you haven’t found him again?” Jane asked.

She knew the answer. She was testing him to see whether he had guts to tell her the truth.

“Unless Scott has a guardian angel, he’ll be at the Piper’s mercy.”

A horn blared from deep within the train tunnel. A
slug of air tainted by the stench of oil and grease swept over the platform moments before the Millbrae-bound BART train roared into the station. A smattering of people stepped from the train before Scott and his fellow passengers filed inside.

He found an empty bench seat and sat down, with the pack still on his back. The last thing he needed was a thief snatching it from him.

He parked himself in the middle of the seat to prevent anyone from sitting next to him. Several of his fellow passengers stared at him. He knew he looked like an antisocial freak. Good. He wanted to be unapproachable. No one else was going to screw with him tonight.

The train’s doors slid shut, and it accelerated out of the station, plunging into darkness. The windows turned into black mirrors reflecting the faces of everyone aboard the car. Scott eyed the other passengers. Any one of them could be the Piper.

Scott knew they’d gotten close to the Piper over the last few days. They’d managed to unearth things about him in the last forty-eight hours that the FBI hadn’t in the last decade, but one fact still eluded them: his identity. That man five rows in front of Scott with his head buried in a paperback could be the Piper. Scott wouldn’t know.

The train pulled into the Civic Center station. The man with the book got off. Another man replaced him. Another possible Piper candidate.

Scott followed the Piper’s instructions and got off at the Glen Park station. Riding the escalator to street level, he pulled out the Piper’s cell phone. The reception bars appeared and the phone rang. As he exited the station, he put the phone to his ear, ignoring a panhandler.

“I like mass transit,” the Piper said. “It’s predictable. It makes
things like this very easy.”

“Where do I go now?”

“Bus ride. Take the twenty-three westbound.”

“Where do I get off?”

“I’ll tell you where.”

Scott caught the bus and found a seat. He wasn’t much in the talking mood, but the Piper instructed him to remain on the line. Scott guessed it was to keep him from calling Sheils.

“Sheils let you go without any babysitters?” the Piper asked.

“I didn’t give him a choice.”

The Piper laughed. “Well done. I might even forgive you for telling him.”

“Not for Nicholas, though.”

“No forgiveness for him. We wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
No
, Scott thought,
we wouldn’t
.

“I wouldn’t put it past Sheils to put someone on your tail.”

Scott remembered the surveillance chopper up there somewhere. He peered through the window up at the sky and saw nothing but stars and night. No doubt he’d lost his shadow the moment he’d descended into the BART station. Sheils would be scrabbling for a new strategy about now.

“How are my boys?”

“Good, under the circumstances. They take strength from each other.”

Scott clutched his stomach. It hurt to hear the Piper talk about his children in such a blasé manner. He held his tongue and spent the bus ride listening to the Piper babble.

Ten minutes later, the Piper said, “You must be coming up on the zoo about now.”

“Yeah. Another couple of stops.”

“Get off there.”

Surely the exchange wasn’t happening there. The zoo
was closed, and while the Piper was capable of many things, taking over the city zoo wasn’t one of them.

He got off the bus at Sloat and Skyline. “I’m here.”

“Good. You’re looking for the south entrance. It’s on Herbst, off Skyline.”

He headed along Skyline toward the zoo’s entrance. He and Jane had brought the boys here countless times. As zoos went, it wasn’t great, but the boys loved the place, especially Peter.

Turning onto Herbst Road, Scott was aware of how vulnerable he was on the empty street. The northern tip of Lake Merced provided his only company. He kept close to the streetlights. He wanted to be visible, even if there was no one to see him.

“Why am I here?” Scott asked.

“So I can see you.”

He stared hard over at the grounds attached to the recreation center across the street from the zoo. Was the Piper hiding there?

“I want to make sure you’re alone.”

“I am.”

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you, Scott. You have a habit of lying to me.”

Scott prayed Sheils had kept his word. He hadn’t seen a cop car, marked or unmarked. That didn’t mean there wasn’t one, but if he couldn’t see it, then the Piper might not see it, either. Road noise was virtually nonexistent. He strained to listen for the
whump-whump
sound of rotor blades, but couldn’t be sure he heard anything. He didn’t dare look up to check, in case he alerted the Piper to the chopper’s presence.

He stopped in front of the zoo’s south gate. “I’m here,” he said into the cell.

“So I see.”

He stared deep into the shadows and forced his eyes to penetrate the night, but all he saw was darkness. He couldn’t tell the difference between twenty or two hundred feet.

“Don’t bother, Scott. You’ll never pick
me out.”

“Sammy,” he bellowed. “Peter.”

His boys didn’t or couldn’t answer.

The Piper laughed.

Scott heard his voice on the phone, but not out in the open. He had to be close enough to see him, but not close enough for his voice to travel.

“Nice try, Scott. All you need to know is that I’m close. Close enough to see you. Close enough to get to you. Close enough to kill your boys. But you’re too far away to stop me.”

“Let’s finish this.” Scott felt his grip on his temper slipping. “I’ve got the money here. I’m not being followed. I’m not wired. Let’s end this now.”

“Watch your tone,” the Piper snapped. “I call the shots. You follow them. I’ll tell you when the exchange happens. Go back to Skyline. You’ll see a triangular median island. There’s a motorcycle waiting for you. Tell me when you find it.”

Scott darted across Skyline. He found a fairly new dirt bike along with a helmet hidden in the long grass. He yanked the bike free of the foliage and wheeled it to the road.

“I’ve got the bike.”

“Ride over to AT&T Park, but I want you to take the following route.” The Piper reeled off a longwinded set of directions to get to the San Francisco Giants’ stadium.

“Why do I have to take the scenic route when I could straight-line it across the city?”

“I still have to see if you’re playing straight with me. If you have tails, they will expose themselves sooner or later. And stay on the line. I don’t want you calling anyone else.”

Scott didn’t bother arguing. He climbed aboard the bike and got on the road. He found his way to the Great Highway and sped along the ocean road. The frigid wind streaming off the Pacific cut through his sweats. The bike tottered when the wind gusted.

It had been a long time
since he’d ridden a motorcycle, and his rustiness showed. He lost his rust by the time he reached the Presidio. The time was edging toward midnight, and traffic was light. It didn’t take him long to pick up the Embarcadero and get to the Giants’ stadium. He stopped on the street and dismounted.

“I’m at AT&T Park.”

“Good.”

Scott walked toward the stadium’s locked entrance. “Why the bike? You gone cheap?”

“No. You can’t conceal anything on a bike. Both hands are needed to operate it. You can’t do anything except ride.”

“No one’s with me. Satisfied?”

“Yes.”

The answer surprised Scott. He expected more tests, more hoops to jump through.

Fear-fueled excitement lit up inside him. If the exchange was to take place now, Sammy and Peter had to be close. This was almost over.

“Walk to the Caltrain station on Fourth Street.”

The station was only a few blocks away. He’d be there in minutes. He broke into a jog. He was getting his kids back. The two million on his back had never felt lighter.

His euphoria ended the moment the station came into view. This was all too easy. The Piper wanted him to pay a price. The two million in the backpack and the two million the Piper had taken in Oregon was a big price, but it hadn’t cost Scott a penny. Rooker had footed the bill. The Piper knew that. More than a money drop would go down at the Caltrain station. He’d enter the station to see the Piper execute Sammy and Peter. He tried to blot out the image filling his head. His hand trembled when he reached for the station door.

“I’m here,” Scott said as he entered the lobby.

“Do you see the luggage lockers?”

“Yes. Where are you?”

“Don’t worry about me. Go to the
lockers. You’re looking for locker two-zero-three.”

Scott found the locker. It was big enough to stow two large suitcases or two small boys. His stomach clenched, and his voice withered to a whisper. “I’m here.”

“Reach above the lockers. You’ll find the key taped there.”

He reached up, felt along the ledge, found the key, and ripped it free.

“Got it.”

“Open the locker.”

Please don’t let the boys be inside
, he thought. He slotted the key in and twisted. He hesitated before easing the door open.

It was empty.

The rush of air escaping his lungs hurt his chest.

“Now, put the money inside, lock the locker, and put the key back.”

Scott did as he was instructed. “Done. Now, where are my boys?”

“Got a pen?”

T
his was the last leg. The ransom had been paid. Scott just
had to ride to Vallejo to collect the boys.

Sending him out to Vallejo was obviously a diversionary tactic. While he raced out to this address, the Piper was unlocking the luggage locker. He didn’t let it worry him, as long as he got to his boys first.

The Bay Bridge loomed over AT&T Park. It took minutes for Scott to reach the on-ramp. He weaved in and out of bridge traffic on the bike. People flashed headlights and leaned on horns, but they fell into the past the moment he passed them. His recklessness carried him through Emeryville, Berkeley, and Richmond but came to an abrupt halt as he approached the Carquinez Bridge. If an unobservant driver clipped him, he could end up dead. Even with the surveillance chopper skulking in the clouds, no one knew where he was headed. If he got killed, Sammy and Peter’s location died with him. His hand eased on the throttle.

The Carquinez Bridge toll plaza blocked the freeway on the northern side of the bridge. Scott didn’t stop for it. He blew through one of the unmanned FasTrak toll booths. An enforcement camera snapped a shot of his license plate on his way through. It was a futile gesture, considering the bike was probably stolen.

He took the off-ramp two exits after the
toll bridge. The Piper’s directions took him into an industrial section that used to serve the naval shipyards before they closed. He slowed his speed. Rubble and debris lay strewn across the private road, and potholes marred the surface.

The bike’s headlight swept across a broken sign for GJK Machining. The boys were being held at GJK. Scott sped through their parking lot and stopped in front of a pair of hangar-style doors. Using the bike as a flashlight, he guided its beam across the doors until it illuminated a big red X daubed on the doors in spray paint. X marks the spot. The Piper’s little joke. Very amusing.

Other than the cross, nothing said this place was the right location. A row of broken windows ran underneath the eaves. No light flickered from within. He wasn’t concerned. The Piper couldn’t risk the light attracting someone’s attention.

“Sammy, Peter, I’m here. Daddy’s here,” he called out.

No answer.

Propping the bike on its kickstand, he ran up to the red X.

“I’m coming,” he yelled out. “Daddy’s coming.”

He yanked back on the doors and the bike’s headlight lit up the interior, casting grotesque shadows off the abandoned machinery. Neither the boys nor the Piper welcomed his arrival.

He called Sammy and Peter’s names again. They didn’t reply.

A chill ran over him, encasing him in his fear. He forced out the images filling his head. He didn’t want to believe them.

He remounted the bike and rode it onto the shop floor. He eased the handlebars to the left, then to the right in a slow arc to light up the vast expanse. Shadows shifted and light reflected off an object hanging from a radial crane.

He jumped off the bike and tore off the object clipped to the crane hook. At first, he thought it was a sheet of paper, but from its feel, it was a photograph. In the gloom, he couldn’t make out its image. He raced back to the bike and stuck it into the headlight’s glare. The captured image took his breath
from him. He bent over and closed his eyes to blot out what he’d seen, but his memory reprinted the photo in his mind. The eight-by-ten shot pictured Sammy and Peter back-to-back, bound together at the wrists, their arms over their heads, dangling from the crane where he’d just removed the photo. The look of anguish on his sons’ faces knifed through him.

“No,” he yelled out. His plea rebounded off the aluminum siding to slam back into him.

The cell phone in his pocket rang.

Scott yanked it out. “You bastard. I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Temper, temper,” the Piper said, his voice calm yet mocking. “That’s no way to speak to me.”

Scott curbed his rage as best he could. His hand was a knot wrapped around the phone. “What have you done with them?”

“Nothing. Yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“The locker where you left the two mil is a bank. You’ve made a deposit. Deposits take time to clear.”

“Take it. It’s there. I want this over.”

“And it will be. As soon as I collect the money and take my leave.”

“How long with that take?”

“Not long. A few hours, at the most. Don’t let anything screw it up, Scott.”

Headlights carved tunnels in the darkness, and the night blinked with red-and-blue lights. A legion of FBI vehicles poured into GJK’s parking lot. They skidded to a halt in front of Scott. The haste was impressive, but he couldn’t see what good it did. He got up from his sitting position in the open doorway.

Scott spotted Jane in a car with
Sheils. She shouldered the door open and raced over to him. She struck him with so much force he took a step back to steady himself.

After the Piper had hung up, Scott had called Sheils and told him where to find him. While he waited for them to arrive, he filled Sheils in about the drop and where he’d left the money. When he had nothing left to say, he repeated it all for Jane. Where he told Sheils the facts, he told her his fears. That morning, he’d felt confident they would get the boys back, even catch the Piper. Not now. Now, he was terrified. The only way he’d get Sammy and Peter back was to tear them from the Piper’s grasp.

“I’m sorry,” he said to Jane. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said. But then she began to sob softly.

She was wrong. It was. He’d led them to this point. His children’s lives depended on him doing the right thing, and he hadn’t. He’d screwed up. He didn’t want forgiveness and understanding. He wanted someone to point a finger at him and tell the world he was to blame.

Sheils came over placed a hand on his shoulder. “Scott, we need to talk.”

“Not right now,” he answered.

Sheils went to say something, but bit it off. His expression softened. “Five minutes. Okay? But I need the photograph.”

Scott held out the photo facedown so Jane didn’t see it. Sheils held out an open evidence bag and Scott slipped the photo inside.

Scott took Jane’s elbow and guided her away from the melee around them. He walked her to the edge of the parking lot. GJK sat close to the Mare Island Strait. The night was clear enough to see across San Pablo Bay to the Marin County shoreline.

He stood in front of her, blocking her view of the water. He held her hands in his, the way he had when he’d proposed to her eleven years ago.

“I thought I’d get them back
tonight,” he said. “I really did. You have to believe me.”

“I do.”

She tried to hug him, but he backed away.

“But I was wrong. I can’t do anything to stop him.”

He unraveled. His ability to hold it all together deserted him and he burst into uncontrollable sobs. His legs buckled. She caught him, but he was too heavy for her. They both collapsed to their knees in the dirt, crying.

“This is all my fault. I waited too long to tell the police when Redfern contacted me. I played the Piper’s stupid games when I should have told you and Sheils. And it’s got Sammy and Peter k—”

“Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it!” she interrupted.

He knew why she’d pounced on him. If he said it, it could never be taken back. And if it ever came true, he could never live with himself.

“You made mistakes. Everyone has.”

“My mistake cost a boy his life.”

“No.” Her reply crackled with electricity. “He killed that boy out of spite. The same applies to Redfern. He killed him. Not you. Say it. Tell me you weren’t responsible for anyone’s death.”

“I wasn’t responsible,” he told Jane. And for the first time, he started to believe it.

“Have you, at any time, not done your best for our boys?”

“Of course not. I’ve done everything I can to get them back.”

Jane’s harsh tone softened. “Then you aren’t to blame.”

He fought hard to believe her, but he couldn’t rid himself of the guilt until he got Sammy and Peter back.

“Scott, if you lose faith, then I’m lost. You’ll take me down with you.”

He couldn’t allow that. “I won’t give up.”

“You’d better not.”

Sheils strode across the weed-ravaged parking lot in their direction. Scott and Jane got up and walked toward him, hand in hand.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Sheils said, “but I need you to make an
important decision.”

“It’s okay,” Jane said. “What decision?”

“I have a team inside the Caltrain station.”

“Are you crazy?” Scott said. “What if the Piper spots them?”

“He won’t. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Okay,” Scott said. “What’s the decision you need?”

“When the Piper comes, I want to take him down at the station.”

“No,” Scott said.

“Scott, I don’t need your blessing.”

“Then why ask?”

“A courtesy. I’ve indulged you more than I should. It’s time the FBI took control.”

“Not yet. Let him take the money, and he’ll release Sammy and Peter.”

“Will he?” Sheils said. “Let’s say we let him take the ransom. Then what? He’ll only come back with another demand. We can’t pass up this opportunity.”

“He’s right,” Jane said. Her expression left no room for doubt.

He tried to fault their logic and found he couldn’t. Deep down, he knew the Piper wasn’t finished with him. The bastard wanted to inflict maximum pain, and he still had a ways to go.

“Okay,” Scott said. “Do it. But get it right.”