The Guardian (5 page)

Ross sighed. “I’ve got no time. Janine’s got no time. What do you think about Datano’s offer, the five hundred? What if we gave that to the guy? That’s still a hell of a lot of money for a guy used to robbing stores.”

Crockett shrugged. “What do I look like, a psychic?”

“I know. I’m grasping at anything.”

“Giving him the five hundred
could
buy some time, I guess. A few days, maybe. Then you could come up with the balance.”

“Once the land’s gone, we’re tapped.”

“Not necessarily.” Crockett paused, then said, “I never would’ve approached you on this before. You were different than the others inside. I know you figured that sentence as a one-shot fluke, that you’d probably die without a jaywalking ticket… .”

“You’ve got a job planned?”

“Armored car. Kenmore Square. Right about one-thirty. Driver likes his onion bagel with lots of chives, every day about now. Two coffees in his hands. Walks them back to the passenger door, guy opens up. Sloppy, the both of them. I need someone who’s a hell of a driver, who could hop a truck or four-wheel drive onto the sidewalk while me and one other guy make the snatch. Then get us out of there and to a clean car within three, maybe four minutes.”

“There’s enough in there?”

“My info, your cut would be right around a mil.”

“What about today?” Ross felt disassociated from himself, hearing the words. Thinking about going back to prison. Thinking that there were no guarantees the guards wouldn’t put up a fight, that innocent men wouldn’t be killed.

“No.” Crockett shook his head firmly. “We need another guy. And I don’t intend to get caught, so it has to be the right one. You, I know, won’t shoot me in the back.”

Ross felt a dull flush of resentment well up inside him. Greg wouldn’t be able to do this, Ross knew. But it could well be the only way to get the money in time. “I’ll think about it.”

Crockett checked his watch. “Just after one now. Why don’t you check it out?”

Ross pulled up in front of the restaurant and waited. College students milled around the square, looking far younger than Ross remembered himself looking at that age. He glanced at himself in the rearview mirror. His black hair was already salted with gray. Ross was only thirty, but he could pass for forty.

He thought about what the first day back in would be like. Walking in with the bars behind clanging shut, the bars in front waiting to open and take him in deeper.

He thought of Janine, of holding her when she was just three hours old.

Logically, he knew the kidnapper may have just been trying to throw a bluff into Greg. But Ross had believed the man himself. He’d known enough people at Concord who could kill a person, a child even, and look at you with incredulity if you suggested they’d done something wrong. Could imagine this guy saying, “I
told
the kid’s old man what I’d do.”

Ross had always considered himself different from the rest of the inmates. He had been certain he’d never be putting himself in the way of the law again. Yet here he was. Ross couldn’t help but resent Greg. He should’ve been here, not Ross.

The armored car pulled up. As Crockett said, the driver went into the restaurant. He was a middle-aged man with sunburned skin and a bristling gray crew cut. A little on the heavy side, not too fat. Ross tried to divine by looking at him if the man would resist.

Sweat beaded Ross’s forehead.
This is wrong,
he thought abruptly.
It’s wrong, it’s stupid, and I just can’t do it.

He felt ashamed, knowing that he was letting Janine down. Knowing that the gun was right under his seat and, if he’d been willing, he could’ve tried to pull off the robbery himself right then.

Ross picked up the phone and tapped in his brother’s phone number.

Greg answered guardedly, presumably ready for the kidnapper.

“It’s me,” Ross said.

“Where are you?” Greg was clearly excited. “We just got through to Geiler and have an appointment in thirty minutes.”

Ross sagged back into his seat. “That’s great news. Better than you can believe.”

“Take down these directions, and Allie and I’ll meet you there.”

Ross smiled as the armored car driver came out with a bag in one hand and two coffees balanced in the other. He laughed at something the other guard said.

Alone in his truck, Ross said, “Great news for both of us.”

Chapter 7

Greg felt that he might well be going insane.

Hope and despair battled inside his head, and both seemed to be equally strong. Both delivered solid blows that made Greg’s knees weak one moment and filled him with a rage that he could barely contain the next.

Like seeing Ross waiting for them in the lobby, his face drawn and worried. Greg knew Ross had been out trying to sell the place to the shylock, knew that Ross would stand behind him all the way. He knew that Ross would do whatever was necessary to get Janine back.

Yet it infuriated Greg that Ross wasn’t wearing a tie, that his beard was untrimmed, that he’d left the business years ago and was out of practice with negotiating. Geiler’s office was in a recently renovated waterfront building. The view of the harbor was spectacular, with millions of dollars on display in the form of a few beautiful sailboats bobbing gently at the dock. The very bricks of the old building had been sandblasted to a rosy glow. All of it said money, and Ross, Greg, and Allie needed to work together to pry it free.

Greg found himself thinking that if Ross hadn’t left the business years ago, maybe it wouldn’t be on the brink of bankruptcy now. Maybe Greg would’ve been able to pay this kind of ransom without trying to convince someone to hand him a million and a half dollars within two hours, didn’t that fucking bastard who held his daughter have the slightest idea how the world turned? That it was crazy, goddamn crazy, you could be a millionaire ten times over and not have that kind of cash sitting around… .

Greg closed his eyes briefly as they stepped into the elevator. He told himself to calm down. He told himself that none of this was Ross’s fault. “How’d it go with Datano?” he heard himself ask.

“Datano?” Allie looked at him sharply. “You let him go to Tommy Datano on this? Are you crazy?”

“Yes, Allie, I am.”

“Five hundred,” Ross said. “If Geiler doesn’t work out, we should take the offer and give the kidnappers that. Five-hundred thousand is a lot of money to a guy who robs milk stores.” Ross’s tone was reassuring, but his eyes didn’t meet Greg’s.

“Geiler’s got to work out,” Greg said, as the elevator reached the floor. “He’s got to.”

Geiler’s secretary escorted them into his office right away. Greg had met Geiler just a few times before, first at a party at the Watersons’ beach house and again when Geiler made the offers back in May and June. Three million-five had been the last offer for the entire property.

That had been tempting back then, especially the way the business had been going. But Greg and Ross had both agreed they didn’t want to sell more than the four parcels, and those alone were worth three million by their estimate—five for the total property. It had pained Greg to even to sell the four parcels and he knew Ross felt the same way. Greg would think of their father, draining the inheritance to feed his habit. It was easy to think they were being just as irresponsible, that they were cutting the land in pieces because they couldn’t manage their own lives.

But seeing my girl safe is my job,
Greg thought abruptly.
All else is secondary.

This was the first time Greg had been to Geiler’s office. The place had a nautical touch: a Winslow Homer print over the desk, a model ocean tanker, and a brass telescope overlooking Boston Harbor.

Geiler was on the phone when they entered, and he smiled genially and waved them to chairs across from his desk. A tall man with dark curly hair and an affable manner, he was known for being a gentleman who got exactly what he wanted at the price he wanted. He put his hand over the mouthpiece and politely asked his secretary to bring them all coffee.

Greg wondered for a moment if he and Ross were going to be subjected to hearing a one-sided business call, the kind where the goal was to impress the listeners. But Geiler terminated the call quickly, saying only, “We need to discuss this further, Al, but I have an appointment right now. I’ll call you back within the hour.”

He set the receiver down and reached across the desk to shake each of their hands. Greg noticed Ross seemed a little stiff. Greg felt the same. He and Geiler were both in their early thirties. There had been a time when the two them would’ve been perceived by most people as cut from the same cloth: both vigorous young men with their own businesses, agendas of their own creation. But now when Greg measured himself automatically against Geiler, he felt older and softer. His business was failing, and now he was approaching hat in hand, absolutely desperate. He could imagine how Ross, fresh from prison, must’ve felt even more insecure. Particularly with Allie there.

Geiler said, “I can see you’re impatient to get started, so let’s get to it.”

Allie started in. She began on the story that she and Greg had discussed earlier, about how he and Ross needed to sell their inheritance to give Greg’s business an infusion of cash. That they would become full partners. She smiled disarmingly. “Of course, none of this is terribly important from your standpoint, Bob, other than you realize that speed is of the essence for us.” She paused. “We need to close today.”

Geiler frowned, looked at his watch. “Today? You can’t be serious. I haven’t even seen the place in three months. We need to do a title search. I’ll need to have the house inspected. I’d made the previous offers with the idea of investment, but I also intended to use the place as a vacation home myself.”

“Do you want the house?” Greg’s voice seemed to come from deep inside him.

Geiler shrugged. “I did. Probably still do. But this afternoon?” His brow wrinkled. “Greg, you must understand, that’s not how it works.” He began shaking his head. “I’ll be happy to take a hard look at the property, and if all goes well, I very likely would make an offer. But not in this time frame.”

“Do you have the money?” Ross said abruptly.

Allie put her hand on his arm. “Ross—”

“We need to know,” Ross said. “If you get the right price, do you have the kind of cash to move ahead?”

Geiler smiled. “I’ve swung deals many times this size.”

“I know you’ve swung deals. I asked if you have the kind of cash we’re talking about in the bank. Today.”

“One step at a time, Ross,” Allie said. “I’m sorry, Bob.”

“Don’t apologize for me,” Ross snapped.

“This is going nowhere fast,” Geiler said.

Greg put his hands up. “Stop. I’ll tell you what’s going on. But only if you can keep it to yourself, that you don’t go to the police no matter what you decide.”

“Police?”

Greg told him about the kidnapping.

Geiler listened quietly, and when Greg was done, he said, “My God.” He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, then said, “Of course I’ll help. I’m afraid I can’t match the offer I made earlier this year. That money is already invested. But I just sold a small building in Waltham that I’d bought years ago, and I have two million that I can turn over for this investment.”

“For everything?” Ross said.

“Yes,” Geiler said. “I’ve never been interested in just a few parcels. I realize it’s a rather hefty cut. In the normal course of business I would’ve tried to get the lowest price, of course. But I hope you don’t think I’m taking advantage of your terrible situation. It’s simply all I can put my hands on now.”

Greg felt his eyes well up slightly as hope landed a staggering blow. He believed Geiler
was
taking advantage of the situation, big time. It was less than half of what the property was worth—but four times what Datano would’ve given them. Bottom line, it was more than they needed for Janine’s ransom.

Greg looked at Ross, begging him with his eyes to agree. He said, “All right?”

Maybe it wasn’t fair that Ross was getting screwed out of a couple million dollars himself, but Greg saw no choice.

“Sure,” Ross said to Geiler. “We accept.”

Chapter 8

Time had stopped.

Ross watched the clock. Two more hours to go. He imagined things he wished he couldn’t.

He drank cup after cup of coffee and kept an eye on the big suitcase. That was a lot of weight. A million five hundred thousand dollars in hundreds. Geiler had arranged for two private security guards to deliver it to their home. Ross and Greg had agreed with Geiler that the remaining five hundred thousand balance should remain with him until after the closing.

“Your hand’s shaking.” Allie joined him at the kitchen table. “Mine, too. Adrenaline and caffeine.”

He nodded.

“I owe you an apology.”