Vanished(54)

“Hurry up.”

She glanced at Corello, who nodded. Mason wouldn’t hesitate. He’d been ready to rush the store the minute they’d arrived. “He’s coming,” she said to Kent. “You’ll get your chance to talk to him.” She repeated the fact, wanting Kent to realize that he was only talking to Mason because she’d allowed it.

She heard the swishing sound of the doors and turned to see Mason stride in, a determined look on his face as he came to save his son.



The energetic sounds of Mannheim Steamroller’s “Carol of the Bells” filled the store, and Mason knew he’d hate the song for the rest of his life. He’d avoided this grocery story for two decades. He never drove by this particular store, taking time to detour around it. He couldn’t stand to see that damned sign. He even avoided shopping in other Safeways.

Ava stood at a center check stand with Corello. She seemed small in the huge store, and he mentally repeated that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Probably more than he was.

He’d been listening through Corello’s open cell-phone line. Ava was going by the book, and she was getting Kent to listen. He held her gaze as he strode toward her. Thank God, Kent hadn’t shot at her. Mason had wanted to hurt the man every time he’d yelled at Ava. She looked calm and in control; she was in work mode with her emotions tucked away. Something he understood very well. The flutter of the pulse in her neck told him she was on high alert. Just like him.

“I’m Corello.” The other negotiator held out his hand to Mason. He looked like he should be teaching college-level economics instead of negotiating with kidnappers. Mason shook his hand and looked past the check stand and down the aisle.

Jake’s calm gaze met him. His lips moved: “Dad.”

Thank God, Jake is okay. Jake’s hands were tied behind him, and he stood with his feet wide and firmly planted for balance. The only sign of a problem was the arm of a killer around Jake’s neck, a knife gripped in one hand, a gun in his other hand pointed at Mason’s head.

Hate flowed through Mason, and his hands started to sweat. His palms itched to draw his weapon to punish the man.

You killed his son. No doubt the feeling is mutual.

Mason looked into Kent Jopek’s eyes and felt the hatred. It blew over him like a suffocating mass. The man had been fostering his hate for two decades, and right now Mason was the recipient of every ounce of it.

“Kent, would you not aim the gun our way?” Ava asked. “Let’s not give SERT a reason to get trigger happy.”

Kent Jopek slowly lowered the gun, holding Mason’s gaze.

He’d seen Kent a few times after his son’s death. There’d been an official inquiry into the shooting, and an attempt at a civil case, which had gone nowhere. Going on his lawyer’s advice, Mason had never reached out to the Jopek family. He’d known the family had tried to inflate the incident in the media, but there’d been too many eyewitnesses who’d come down firmly in Mason’s favor. The consensus both public and official had been that Mason acted correctly.

That didn’t help a family mourn their son.

Nor did it take away Mason’s own nightmares, in which he shot an innocent boy in the head.

Kent Jopek had changed little. He was still a big man with a firm gaze, but now his hair was gray. Deep lines framed his mouth—the look of a man in constant emotional pain.

Holiday music rang in Mason’s ears.

“What’s your side of the story?” Corello asked Mason.

“Twenty years ago, I was called to a scene right here where a homeless guy had Kent’s son with a knife at his neck. He started to slice open the boy’s throat and I shot, hitting both of them. The boy didn’t make it. Jopek blames me. Now he’s got my son.” Mason didn’t look away from Jake.

“Jesus Christ,” murmured Corello.

“Mr. Jopek,” Ava said over the intercom. “Mason is here to listen to what you have to say. What do you want to tell him?”

Mason braced himself for the avalanche of vitriol. Instead, Kent Jopek stared at him.

He waited. Jake turned his head the slightest bit, trying to look back at his captor as if to see if there was a reason the man wasn’t speaking. Kent jerked his arm, and Jake froze.

Mason took the intercom out of Ava’s hand. Her eyes cautioned him, and he gave her a faint smile. He held the handset to his mouth and lost all train of thought.

What did he want to say to the man?

Every night I relive the day your son died.

I can’t imagine your pain.

I’d do the exact same thing again.

Every sentence was wrong. They were shallow next to this man’s experience. How could he ask Kent to let his son go?

“Please let Jake go.” Mason’s plea echoed through the speakers. There was nothing he could say to fix the past or ease this man’s pain. He had to say what was in his heart.

Kent finally broke eye contact and looked at the floor.

“I’ve visited Wyatt’s grave every year,” Mason admitted.

His gaze flew back to Mason’s, disbelief flooding his eyes. “Bullshit.”

Mason swallowed hard. “It’s the truth.” He gave a detailed description of the boy’s headstone and location. “I’ve even taken Jake with me a few times. He knows I caused the death of a boy.”

Kent said something to Jake that Mason couldn’t hear. Jake nodded in response.

“I relive that day every night. Sometimes several times a night,” said Mason.

Kent leaned forward a bit, his eyes hungry for Mason’s words.

“Sometimes in my dreams, my shot misses.”

The man nodded slightly. No doubt he’d had the same dream.

“But it never matters. The outcome never changes,” Mason said, watching the man’s eyes narrow. No doubt Kent had multiple dreams where Wyatt walked away unscathed.

“When Wyatt jumped up at the same moment I fired, I knew what would happen. I’ve wished a million times that I could have pulled back that bullet.”

Kent blew out a shaky breath.

“My life has never been the same,” Mason said.

“Don’t you dare try to compare your pain to mine,” Kent hissed. “You don’t have the slightest idea of what I’ve gone through. I watched my son die, murdered by someone who was supposed to protect him.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Mason saw Ava stiffen. A misstep. He’d triggered Jopek’s defenses.

“I can’t even begin—,” Mason started.

“I cradled him and felt the destruction your bullet did to his head.” Kent’s gun crept back up to point at Mason. “I could feel the sharp edges of his broken skull. Inside it was soft.” His voice got louder. “I tried to put him back together!”

Ava grabbed the handset. “Kent, please don’t point the gun at us. Remember, there are eyes watching from outside.”

Kent lowered his gun and his gaze, but his body shook with the effort.

“We’re losing him,” Corello muttered. “Get him focused.”

“This is your chance to tell Mason what you wanted to say, remember?” Ava continued. “So far he’s done most of the talking. What do you want him to hear?”

Mason watched the man try to get a handle on his emotions. And empathized. The man was searching for answers and trying to right a situation where he believed he’d been wronged.

“I’ve had two failed marriages,” Kent stated, staring at the floor. “I can’t stay with a woman because they don’t understand what this has done to me. I’m an alcoholic. I haven’t touched a drink in three years, but there was a time when all I’d do was drink. I lost jobs. I lost my home.” He looked up at Mason. “I used to make a circuit of the liquor stores. I didn’t want the employees judging how much alcohol I bought, so I’d drive an extra twenty miles so I’d never have to go to the same store more than once a month.”

Mason listened.

“That’s when I realized I needed to take control. I wasn’t going to let externals dictate my life,” Kent continued. “I stopped drinking. Every time I didn’t stop at the liquor store was a success to be celebrated. I proved I had the power to make a change in my life. I decided to change other things. I needed to regain my health, so I made it happen. Sheer willpower. Mental toughness is what saved me.”

Mason understood. That was how he’d survived his divorce. He’d moved into autopilot and set the program to run at optimum. From the outside, he looked pretty good.

Just don’t look too deep.

Mason had cracks in his shell.

And Kent Jopek did, too.

“But I couldn’t make the nightmares go away. I had control over every waking minute, but as soon as I went to sleep, Wyatt would talk to me, begging me to save him. So like everything else, I made a plan that would make things change.” Kent looked directly at Mason.

Something inside him just changed. His eyes are wrong.

A warning went off in Mason’s brain, his body hardening. Corello and Ava both took deep breaths. They saw it, too. Kent had disengaged his emotions from his actions.

“I needed to destroy you just as I had been destroyed. Bit by bit. Piece by piece. What was important to you? What could I take away? I watched you, Callahan. I spent weeks watching, seeing how you lived your life.” Kent gave a short laugh. “You know what? Your life stinks. You work. That’s it. Your home is a bare, empty box. You don’t date. You don’t hang out with friends. So I had to strike where I could. Phase one was your job, because it seemed to be all you had.”