Baltimore [3.5] Broken Silence

by Karen Rose

  ‘I’ll do my best,’ Daphne promised. And then some. ‘Is he here?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Kate sobered abruptly. ‘He’s in observation six. He wants you to meet him there.’

  Startled, Daphne frowned. That was the room they used to interview children. ‘Why?’

  ‘You’ll see when we get there.’

  ‘You’re going too?’ Daphne asked, and Kate nodded grimly.

  ‘Yeah. For the record, I voted against bringing you in on this, but I was overruled.’

  ‘On what? Overruled by whom?’

  ‘On a damn stressful case that’s kept me up for four straight nights. See, I happen to agree with your boss. You need to rest. But I was overruled by my boss. Joseph thinks you can handle it. You might want to keep that barn towel handy, sugar.’

  Monday, December 23, 12:30 P.M.

  ‘She’s so small,’ Daphne murmured, standing at the observation glass. The little girl was blonde. Fair skinned. Petite. She looked like a tiny fairy sitting at the child-sized table. She was hunched over, her head down. Her hands were bandaged. Her body language screamed trauma.

  A woman, likely a social worker or a therapist, sat at the table with her, busily coloring a picture and cheerfully chatting. But the child never looked up, never made eye contact.

  Daphne didn’t have to ask why Joseph had asked her to meet him here. The instant she’d laid eyes on the girl, she’d been transported back in time to another interview room in a different police department. A different child in a different circumstance, but in many ways the same. There had been a therapist at that table, too, one who’d cheerfully chatted as she colored a picture.

  But, like this little girl today, when Daphne had been the traumatized child sitting in an interview room, she hadn’t said a single word. It would be eight long months before Daphne spoke at all. Years more before she started to heal.

  Daphne had to clear her throat. ‘What’s her name?’ she whispered hoarsely.

  Joseph stood at her side, his arm pressed against hers. ‘We don’t know,’ he said gently.

  She knew that he knew where her mind had gone. How deep her emotional wounds were. That he’d ask her to relive her own trauma after what she’d so recently endured . . .

  It gave her strength. Made her love this man more than she already did. Joseph knew she wasn’t weak, that she didn’t need to be coddled. He knew what she was made of.

  ‘What do you call her?’

  ‘Angel,’ he said. ‘She was wearing a necklace with an angel pendant when she was found.’

  ‘She’s only about six years old.’

  Daphne had been eight when she’d sat at the table with the cheerful therapist. It was another lifetime. It was yesterday, she thought, because the horror of what had happened to her never really went away. She’d been kidnapped with her cousin, locked up by a monster who terrorized her and tortured her cousin. Daphne’s escape had been a miracle. Her cousin hadn’t made it.

  ‘Six was our guess,’ Joseph confirmed. ‘Kate? You want to fill Daphne in on the details?’

  ‘Not really,’ Kate said stubbornly. ‘I still think this is a bad plan. We have therapists, Joseph. We don’t need to drag Daphne into this. Besides, she’s on leave. She shouldn’t be here.’

  Well, Daphne thought, now Kate’s rant about selling tickets to my nervous breakdown makes a helluva lot more sense.

  ‘Kate.’ Joseph barked her name, his patience obviously frayed.

  Daphne linked her arm through his, leaning into him. Calming him as he’d calmed her. ‘I’m okay, Kate. I promise there won’t be any nervous breakdowns. Tell me the details.’

  ‘Fine.’ Kate crossed her arms over her chest. ‘She was found four days ago sitting in a snowdrift near a burned-out car, on a secluded road west of the city. She was half-frozen and in shock. Covered in blood. Some of it was hers. Most of it wasn’t. There were two bodies in the car, a man and a woman, burned past recognition.’

  Dear God. This precious little girl had seen it happen. Daphne’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back. There would be time for compassion later. Now this child needed another kind of help.

  ‘Their fingerprints were burned off too?’ Daphne asked.

  Kate nodded. ‘Yes. The man had a bullet hole in his chest and another at the base of his skull. The medical examiner thinks the emaciated woman had been terminally ill.. We found no ID on the victims, or clothing for that matter.’

  ‘They were stripped nude?’ Daphne asked, horrified. ‘All of them? Even the little girl?’

  ‘No, the girl was fully clothed. It’s likely that the killer just didn’t want their clothes to identify them,’ Kate said. ‘The M.E. found no evidence of sexual assault.’

  ‘And the child?’

  ‘No evidence of sexual assault was found when she was examined in the ER,’ Joseph assured her, and Daphne’s stomach relaxed a fraction.

  ‘No plates on the car, a ’92 Olds Cutlass,’ Kate continued. ‘No purses or wallets. No scraps of paper or trash. It was completely stripped, the VIN sanded away.’

  ‘Both places?’ Daphne asked, knowing that most cars had the vehicle identification number embossed in two different places. The second place was usually harder to get to.

  ‘Both of them,’ Kate confirmed. ‘Somebody knew what they were doing and they’d come prepared. They doused the car with gasoline but poured polyurethane over the bodies, which made them burn faster. A passing motorist saw the smoke and called 911. Firefighters put out the fire, but the bodies were already charred. Angel was found by a firefighter who was checking the surrounding area for smolder. She hasn’t said a word since she was brought in. She can hear, we know that. There doesn’t appear to be any physical reason for her silence.’

  ‘The trauma is reason enough,’ Daphne murmured. ‘Assuming those were her parents, she witnessed the most horrific thing a child could see. Has no one reported her missing?’

  Joseph exhaled heavily. ‘No one.’

  ‘Her prints aren’t in the missing-children database either,’ Kate added. ‘We put her picture up on the wire four days ago and no one’s stepped forward.’

  ‘Who’s the woman with her?’

  ‘Heidi Breckenridge,’ Joseph said. ‘She’s from social services. I’ve worked with her before. She’s good. But she hasn’t been able to get any response from the girl.’

  ‘How long had she been there in the snow?’

  ‘Several hours at least,’ Kate said. ‘She had frostbite on her hands. The doctors don’t think she’ll lose any fingers, so that’s one positive.’

  Daphne stood still for a long moment, studying the child. ‘She sits like a little lady.’

  ‘She’s all hunched over,’ Kate said. ‘How can you tell?’

  ‘Look at her feet. She’s got them slanted to the side, crossed at the ankle. If she sat up straight, she might offer us a cup of tea. What was she wearing when you found her?’

  ‘Jeans, designer label. Brand new, as was the cashmere twin set.’ Kate shook her head. ‘What kind of six-year-old wears a twin set?’

  ‘The kind whose mother trains her to serve tea,’ Daphne said wryly, knowing the type. ‘What else?’

  ‘Prada boots. I priced them at Saks – they retail at almost four hundred bucks.’

  Joseph pointed to a box on a table behind them. ‘The clothes she was found in.’

  ‘Wow.’ Daphne checked the makers’ labels on the clothes, each piece sealed in a plastic evidence bag. ‘This twin set alone would pay for two of your black suits, Kate. And the boots?’ She held them up to the light coming through the two-way mirror. ‘Faux fur trim, suede fringe. And . . . sand?’ Particles of sand had clung to the fringe. ‘An impractical choice for the beach. And odd that she’d been there at all, considering the weather. Is the lab checking the sand for origin?’

  ‘Told you she’d pick that up,’ Joseph said smugly.

  ‘All right,’ Kate grumbled. ‘You were right, I was wrong.
Yes, Daphne, the lab checked the sand. It’s Eastern Shore sand that she could have picked up anywhere from Delaware to Virginia. It’ll take weeks to pin it down any further. Take a look at the coat.’

  Daphne drew the large bag from the box. At first glance, all she could see was blood, but when she turned the bag over to see the other side, her eyes widened.

  Holy God. It was snow white and it was fur – and it didn’t look faux. ‘I’d need to touch it to be sure, but this looks like real fox fur. We’re talking major bucks here.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Joseph said. ‘It’s real fox fur. Lab checked the fibers. We’re waiting on the analysis of the specific type and where it came from.’

  ‘I’ve checked around,’ Kate said. ‘None of the department stores carry anything like it.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. They could special-order it, but this comes from a very exclusive furrier. If you’re paying that kind of money, you don’t order sight unseen. You’ll try it on in person. Get the full royal treatment. You know, champagne, caviar . . .’

  Kate shook her head. ‘For a little girl?’

  ‘Not the champagne, of course. That would have been for the mother.’

  ‘Do you have furs like this?’ Kate asked Daphne hesitantly.

  ‘No. My ex’s mother has a closet full, though. Occasionally she’d take me with her when she went shopping for a new mink so that she could teach me to be “discriminating.” After all, a proper lady would never be caught dead in a substandard fur.’ Daphne returned the coat to the evidence box. ‘I’d circulate Angel’s picture around at the fur salons to see if anyone remembers her. You might find a coat like this in D.C., but your chances are better in New York. This will be the kind of place that caters to celebrities and the very, very wealthy.’

  ‘I’ll get on it,’ Kate said. ‘Thanks.’

  Daphne turned back to the window to find Angel in the exact same position and the social worker looking discouraged. ‘Can I talk to Angel?’

  ‘I was hoping you would,’ Joseph said.

  Monday, December 23, 12:50 P.M.

  ‘You were right,’ Kate said again when she and Joseph were alone in the observation room. ‘Asking her to help this little girl was exactly what she needed.’

  Joseph watched as Heidi told Angel that she was going to the bathroom for a few minutes and that Daphne would be watching over her. He hoped like hell he’d done the right thing. ‘I put off asking her,’ he confessed quietly to Kate. ‘But our chances of finding whoever killed Angel’s parents drop with every hour that passes. Angel’s the key.’

  ‘Hi, Joseph. Kate.’ Heidi closed the door behind her. ‘This kid is a tough nut to crack.’

  ‘Daphne may not have any more luck than you did,’ Joseph said. ‘Thanks for bringing Angel here so that we could try.’

  ‘My pleasure. It was good for her to get out of the hospital, get a little change of scenery. I have learned something about her. She has a sweet tooth.’ Heidi smiled at the little girl sadly. ‘We stopped for ice cream on the way. She put away three scoops. Kid has a hollow leg.’

  ‘Then she and Daphne should get along just fine.’ Sending up a prayer, Joseph listened.

  ‘Hey,’ Daphne was saying. ‘My name is Daphne. I hear they call you Angel.’ She took a moment to choose a coloring book from the pile on the table. ‘I actually thought you looked more like a fairy when I first saw you. Fairies have wings like angels, but they have more attitude. I like attitude. I’ve got a lot of attitude myself.’

  The child did not move a muscle.

  ‘I saw your boots,’ Daphne continued. ‘Love ’em. You’ve got good taste, sugar. Or maybe your mama has good taste. Either way, I’m jealous.’

  The child’s shoulders stiffened, a minute movement that Joseph might have overlooked had he not been watching so intently. Daphne noticed it too, her eyes flashing up to the glass before returning to her coloring book.

  ‘She did that,’ Heidi murmured, ‘whenever I mentioned her mother. But only when I said “mama.” I don’t think I got anything with “mommy” or “mother.” It might be nothing, of course.’

  ‘All parts of the puzzle,’ Joseph murmured back.

  ‘And your coat. It’s so beautiful and soft. Where did you get it?’ No response. Daphne chose a crayon and opened the coloring book. ‘Oh, I like this coloring book. It’s got ponies.’

  This time there was no mistaking it. Angel’s chin jerked up and she met Daphne’s eyes for a split second. Then a dark shadow crossed the child’s face, and down her chin went.

  ‘And here I’ve been coloring kitties all this time,’ Heidi said dryly.

  ‘You like ponies?’ Daphne asked quietly. ‘So do I. The pony in this book is on TV. I think it’s supposed to be blue or maybe purple, but I like pink, so I’m coloring this pony pink.’

  Angel’s shoulders heaved up and down. She was crying. Daphne swallowed hard, compassion in her eyes.

  ‘When I was a little girl,’ she said, ‘a little older than you, I saw something terrible. I saw someone I loved get hurt. Later, some nice people found me and took me home to my parents, but I didn’t talk for a long, long time. Everyone was in my face, asking me to tell them about the girl that got hurt. They wanted to find her and I was the only one who knew where she was. But I couldn’t remember. And what I did remember, I was too scared to tell.’

  No response. Angel’s shoulders no longer shook, but it was because she was holding her breath. Daphne ran her hand down the child’s back. ‘It’s okay, honey. Cry. It’s okay.’

  Angel hunkered down, arms wrapped around her knees. The sob barreled out, such agony from a child so small. Daphne continued to rub Angel’s back, letting her cry until the child began to cough.

  Sliding out of her chair to the floor, Daphne lifted Angel onto her lap, rocking her, her face mirroring the child’s anguish.

  ‘She didn’t cry at all in the hospital,’ Heidi said. ‘But why are ponies a trigger?’

  ‘I don’t know, but they seem to be.’ Just hearing the sobs was tearing at Joseph’s heart.

  Eventually Angel stilled, shuddering out a breath.

  ‘Angel?’ Daphne murmured. ‘I have ponies. Would you like to see them?’

  The child froze.

  ‘It’s okay to say no,’ Daphne said. ‘It’s okay to say nothing at all, until you’re ready. But if you want to see my ponies, you can just nod.’

  Angel slowly looked up and Joseph caught his breath. The child looked desperate. Like she wanted to say something so much, but couldn’t. Or wouldn’t.

  Daphne was smiling down at her. ‘Ponies?’ she prompted, nodding encouragingly.

  After what seemed like an eternity, Angel nodded too.

  The three in the observation room exhaled in unison.

  ‘Son of a gun,’ Heidi whispered.

  ‘Girls love ponies,’ Kate said. ‘Can you arrange a visit to Daphne’s farm?’

  ‘I’ll make it happen,’ Heidi promised. ‘This helps me, actually. The doctor was ready to release her from the hospital today and told me to arrange for foster care tonight. I needed a little time to find the right place for her.’

  Kate frowned. ‘I told him he needed to clear a release with us. We’ll be putting Angel in protective custody, at least until we know who she is and what kind of danger she’s in.’

  ‘Good. You should set the protective custody up ASAP. She’s medically cleared now.’

  ‘I will. I’ll let the doctor know we’ll check her out tomorrow morning. That way we can move her from Daphne’s farm straight to a safe house. Can you have her out to Daphne’s by tomorrow at ten?’

  ‘Will do.’ Heidi returned to the interview room where Daphne still held the little girl on her lap. She reached for Angel, but the child wrapped her arms around Daphne’s neck and clung. Daphne closed her eyes and Joseph could see she was fighting tears. She sat with Angel for a long while, Heidi waiting patiently in one of the nearby chairs. But eventually, Daphne look
ed up.

  ‘Angel, honey. It’s time to go with Miss Heidi. But you’ll see my ponies soon.’

  The desperation in Angel’s eyes intensified, but she allowed Heidi to take her. Clearly shaken, Daphne walked into the observation room and straight into Joseph’s arms. She was trembling and Joseph felt like a monster.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘I shouldn’t have asked you to do this.’

  ‘No. You should have. I’m glad you did. She wants to talk, but she’s so scared.’

  ‘Maybe she’ll talk to the ponies,’ he said softly. ‘You did.’

  ‘I know. That’s what I’m counting on.’

  Kate cleared her throat. ‘I’m heading out. I’ll arrange protection for Angel tomorrow. If she can I.D. the killer, she’s a loose end. I’ll also send her photo and a description of the coat to the Manhattan field office and get them interviewing New York furriers while I check around D.C.’

  ‘Sounds good,’ Joseph said. ‘Thanks, Kate.’ When they were alone, he lifted Daphne’s chin and kissed her. Not passionately, but comfortingly. ‘I am sorry. I knew it would be hard for you, but I was running out of options.’

  ‘I know. And I really am all right. But if you could hold me for another minute?’

  ‘It’ll be a hardship,’ he teased, then drew her close, resting his cheek on top of her head. The seconds ticked by in comfortable silence, until his cell phone buzzed in his pocket.

  ‘You should get that call,’ she said. ‘It’s probably important.’

  ‘It’s a text, not a call.’ But he knew Daphne was right. Angel was just one of the cases on his plate. Only one other was as high a priority, though – the recovery of the two dozen victims they’d found buried behind a cabin in West Virginia two weeks before.

  It was slow work. They’d spent the last two weeks mapping out the burial ground using ground penetration radar to keep from inadvertently destroying evidence. They’d just started retrieving the bodies a few days before.

  Except for one body. All of the victims had been teenaged girls except for the one adult male they’d found buried off to the side. They’d retrieved his body first. And then Joseph had been forced to inform Daphne that they’d found her father. For nearly thirty years she’d thought he’d abandoned them, while all this time he’d been lying in an unmarked grave.