Stolen Daughters

by Carolyn Arnold

  It was not getting full closure as to motive that gnawed on her, but some cases never got neatly wrapped up. While they’d never hear what had driven Daniel directly from him, she suspected he had been desperate for attention. His final words, “You see me,” sort of clinched that for her.

  And it would seem he’d hated his sister. They were struggling in that loft, after all. How far back did the sibling animosity go? Had Daniel’s parents always favored the daughter, and then when she went missing and was declared dead, had they become consumed by grief and neglected Daniel completely? If so, maybe Daniel’s young mind had placed the blame for that on Christina’s shoulders. It could be that every time he killed, he saw his sister’s face and was really killing her. As for what had triggered him, that answer, too, was taken with him to the grave.

  Another thing that may be buried forever were the identities of the victims of the Clear Mountain Circle fire. At least they weren’t without justice. But one day, Amanda hoped to bring their families closure.

  Mia Vaughn confirmed that the second fire was the result of a propane tank explosion, though she couldn’t narrow down exactly what had been used to start the fire that ignited the gas.

  Forensic results from the murder cases had finally come back too. The tox panel on Ashley Lynch had confirmed that she had ketamine in her system. The epithelia under Fox’s nails, and the palm print lifted from the Sunny Motel matched to Daniel.

  She checked the time on her phone and realized she had to get going. She was meeting a friend for a long overdue coffee and hoping for some updates. It was still playing on her mind how Christina had gone from victim to perpetrator.

  * * *

  Amanda entered Hannah’s Diner, and May pulled her in for a hug and squeezed tight.

  “There’s my girl. Let me get ya a coffee and muffin. I’ll be right back with it.” She nudged her head to a corner booth. “Your friend’s already here.”

  May hustled off, and Amanda headed toward a woman who could easily have been a model. Athletic build, with a dark, smooth complexion. Her skin seemed to glow, testifying to regular exercise and a healthy diet. Her brown hair was all tight, springy curls, and didn’t reach the top of her shoulders. But what Amanda really noticed were her sparkling eyes, and the second they met each other’s gaze, the two of them grinned.

  “Is that actually Detective Amanda Steele in the flesh?” Patty beamed.

  “Only if you’re Detective Patty Glover.” Amanda had imagined Patty to be older, but seeing her now, she realized they were probably about the same age.

  Patty held out her hand and gave Amanda’s a robust shake. “Please, sit.” She gestured across from her, and May returned with the coffee and the snack.

  Amanda lifted her cup to take a sip, and Patty rushed to lift hers, holding it toward Amanda’s in a toast gesture. “To the beginning of an amazing friendship.”

  Amanda smiled and clinked her cup to Patty’s, and both women took sips of their drinks.

  “Okay, now, maybe I’ll get down to business…” Patty angled her head. She had such a harmless mischievousness to her in person. Not a real surprise, as it did travel across the phone line. In person, though, her entire face lit up with the delivery. “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “Christina Ross.” Amanda had heard that Christina was expected to make a full recovery.

  “All right. You know she’s going to be just fine and that I’ve interviewed her?”

  Amanda nodded.

  “She confessed to setting that fire seven years ago. She was eighteen at the time and saw it as her way out.”

  “Brave. She must have been terrified.”

  “No doubt, and desperate. She’s not remorseful that one of the girls died, though. Something’s gotten screwed up in her mind—not that that’s a surprise, given all she’s been through.”

  That brought up another chilling thought. “Someone else was laid to rest under Christina’s headstone. Did she know who died in that fire?”

  Patty shook her head. “She didn’t give me anything, no matter how hard I pressed. There’s an order underway to exhume the remains, but it might be a long time before we ever get a name. If we ever do. No idea where Christina’s been living, but I did find her on the data chip. Her nickname had been Fresh off the Farm. Sickening.”

  Amanda took a deep breath, her coffee still mostly untouched. “I really need you to help me understand something. What turned Christina Ross into one of them?”

  “Short answer. Survival. She told me that she’d reported Randy Hart all those years ago.”

  “The nine-one-one call.”

  “That’s right. She was hoping police would dissemble the ring, but instead the ring caught up with her. She felt she had to make herself valuable to them if they were going to let her live. So that’s what she did.”

  “But isn’t that unusual?” Amanda had heard of Stockholm syndrome. Was it something similar that had messed up Christina’s mind?

  Patty pressed her lips and shook her head. “I wish I could say it was. You’ll be surprised—and shocked—to know that nearly forty percent of the people involved with sex trafficking are women. Many were formerly victims.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yep. As I said, it’s about survival. And the leaders in these rings need some women on their side. A young girl’s more likely to trust a woman than a man.”

  “I get that.” Though the concept pierced Amanda’s heart. “And she was sent to kill her brother?”

  “Yep, and she had no qualms about doing so. When she’d volunteered to take out the person killing the girls, she hadn’t known it was Daniel, but she was committed to seeing it through. She and her brother were never close.”

  “I suspected as much, but I’m curious why she didn’t just shoot Daniel at the motel where she killed Hart. Did you ask her about that?”

  Patty nodded. “Uh-huh. She wanted to toy with him and had him take them to their old farm. She thought it would be poetic to kill him there. She said she always hated the place. But apparently Daniel got the upper hand and managed to disarm her.”

  “They were fighting in the loft when I arrived,” Amanda conceded. She didn’t remember seeing another gun and wondered if Christina’s had ever been recovered. Amanda knew her Glock was brought in as evidence, and she hadn’t been issued a replacement with her being on sick leave. “Were you able to get anywhere with who Christina was sold to?”

  “The money trail seems to lead to somewhere in DC. Still working to narrow that down.”

  Was the ring’s name, DC, unoriginal and purely based on location? Amanda had this niggling feeling there was more to it. Maybe one day she’d find out what. “Let’s hope it ends up getting us closer to the ringleader.”

  “We can wish upon a star. Now, I’ve got more updates for you. Where do you want me to go from here?”

  “With anyone who’s going to prison.” Amanda smiled at her new friend. It was so nice to finally be with her in person.

  “Very well. The owners of the Sunny Motel and Ritter’s Motel are facing jailtime. They were facilitators—enabling the ring to solicit the girls at their motels. We’ve accessed their financials and see large and regular deposits going into the bank accounts.”

  No wonder the owner of the Sunny Motel didn’t want Roy to call the cops. “Can you track those?”

  “Uh-uh. I did, and we’ve got some names. Arrests will be made.” Another beautiful smile from Patty.

  “That’s fantastic. Are the motel owners saying anything? Do they know who’s behind the DC ring?” Amanda leaned across the table.

  “They both offered to turn state’s evidence in exchange for protective custody. They have some names, but don’t know the person at the top. All they know about them is that they are extremely powerful and believe it might be a prominent politician, or someone in law enforcement.”

  “Scary thought.”

  “Sadly, only to be expected in that world. Now, I’m
still working on Second Treasures. The people there claim they had no idea that these girls have been shopping in their store. I subpoenaed their financials, and there’s nothing untoward that’s been found. The owners and employees there might be innocent, but at least we now know about it and can keep the place under surveillance.”

  For all that Patty was offering, Amanda felt bad asking for more. “Anything useful turn up on those suspects I forwarded from the initial investigation into Lynch’s disappearance?”

  “No dice, I’m afraid.”

  Amanda twisted her cup and looked down into the coffee, one more question coming to mind. “Did Randy Hart lead you anywhere?”

  “Unfortunately, no. We checked his home and came up empty. We also spoke with his former employer, Bonnie Pratt, at the Pansy Shoppe. She only had nice things to say about him.”

  “Do you think the flower place is mixed up in any of this?”

  “Involved in the ring? No way.”

  Amanda was relieved to hear that and overwhelmed with gratitude. She made eye contact with Patty. “You’ve just done so much. It’s fantastic.”

  “Don’t mention it. This job is my work and my passion. It’s also why I had to meet you, Amanda.”

  “It being?”

  “You’re like me and have a strong desire to find justice. You really care, and that’s—I’m sad to say—harder to find in the department than it used to be.”

  Amanda smiled, so thankful that their paths had crossed, though sad at why they had. But there would be a lot of really bad men and women out there who would be hoping Amanda and Patty never joined forces. They may not know it yet, but their day of reckoning was coming.

  Sixty-One

  The following day…

  Amanda was sitting outside Hill’s office with Malone and her lawyer. What a horrible way to start the week.

  Hill’s assistant, Lily, kept smiling awkwardly at her. If needing the lawyer wasn’t enough of a bad sign, this was another one.

  The phone beeped on Lily’s desk, and then a voice came over its speaker. “Send them in.”

  Hill sounded sour, and Amanda couldn’t help quaking internally. This case had rocked her emotionally, mentally, and physically, and it felt like she still had a long way to go before she healed. But she took a deep breath and stood tall. She had no reason for regrets. And she had saved two people. She went through the doorway first, her lawyer and Malone behind her.

  Hill was perched at her desk, her beady eyes fixed on Amanda. The LT didn’t smile, but her eyes brightened. “Close the door, Detective.”

  “I’ve got it.” Malone stepped in and did as Hill had requested of Amanda.

  Hill got up, rounded her desk, and said to Amanda, “Please, sit.”

  Amanda recognized the LT’s intended power play immediately. With her sitting and the lieutenant standing, it was an intimidation tactic. Sadly, it was working.

  “I’m not the type to mince words, Detective Steele, and I’m quite sure you know why I’ve called for this meeting.”

  Amanda didn’t say a word. On previous advice from her lawyer, she was to limit her responses to “yes” or “no.”

  “Do you know why I called this meeting?” Hill leaned against the edge of her desk, sitting but still above Amanda.

  “No.”

  “Not sure I buy that.”

  Amanda shrugged, kept silent.

  “I see how this is going to go.” She stood again. “Did you request backup to accompany you to the Logmill Road property?”

  “No.” She balled her hand tight but released it before it rigored in a fist.

  “Did you enter the property anyway?”

  “Yes.” She stared straight ahead.

  “Did you put the lives of yourself and others in jeopardy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Including that of your own partner?”

  She hadn’t directly but things could have taken a dark turn. For that she had to answer, “Yes.”

  Her lawyer gently nudged her arm, but Amanda didn’t look at her.

  “Did you enter the barn while it was on fire?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you convince your partner to join you?”

  She stumbled with that one too. Self-imposed guilt was a bitch. She certainly hadn’t made him go along with her, but she hadn’t discouraged him either. The only right call she made was telling him to stay out of the barn.

  “If you’re worried that I will hold him accountable for your poor leadership, I won’t. I’ll ask again—”

  “No.” One word, two letters, and she felt like she betrayed Trent.

  Hill’s lips rose in a subtle smile. “Did you ignore a call from your supervisor, Sergeant Malone, when he called for your whereabouts?”

  Amanda’s lawyer touched her forearm. “Don’t answer that.” She turned to Hill. “There’s no way she could read his mind to know the reason for his call.”

  Hill steepled her fingers. “Right. Because she ignored it. Is that right, Detective Steele? Did you ignore a call from Sergeant Malone when you were on the Ross property?”

  “Yes.”

  Hill smiled and dipped her head at the lawyer, then met Amanda’s gaze. “I believe I’ve allowed you a long leash, Detective.”

  A ball of rage knotted in Amanda’s gut, but she clamped her mouth shut.

  “You’ve wasted department time and taxpayers’ money on the interrogation of a suspect, a Samuel Booth, who turned out to be absolutely innocent.”

  “Is there a question in there?” Amanda’s lawyer asked.

  Hill quirked an eyebrow and addressed Amanda again. “And while you had Mr. Booth in custody, did you miss following vital clues that led to the death of two more women?”

  Another one she struggled with. Her conscience would find her guilty, but there was no way to be certain. “No. We followed the evidence we had at the—”

  Her lawyer urged her to stop talking.

  Hill looked over the room. “I really think we’ve all heard enough. I’m suspending you without pay for thirty days and will be asking for your badge to be taken away for good.”

  Amanda met Malone’s gaze. He pressed his lips down, but otherwise tried to infuse encouragement into his eyes. He’d told her before he had her back, and she believed it, but right now, she was floating in the ocean without a life raft. If she was going to survive, she’d have to swim. She cleared her throat. “What about Trent?”

  “That’s really between me, Detective Stenson, his lawyer, and his sergeant, but I’m going to request that he be relegated to desk duties for thirty days.”

  “I thought you said he wouldn’t be in trouble,” Amanda burst out, and her lawyer set a hand on her forearm.

  “I said I wouldn’t hold him accountable for your actions. He could have refused to go with you, and he could have called for backup long before he did. He chose not to.”

  “He didn’t because of me. I’m the senior detective.”

  The lawyer put a hand on Amanda’s arm again, applying more pressure this time, but Amanda had more to say.

  “You do realize that if we didn’t move when we did, that girl would have been dead. And Logan.”

  Hill’s smile was twisted. “You a fortune teller now? And how dare you defend your actions by claiming that you saved two people? Do you forget that one is in the morgue because of you? Another recovering in the hospital from a gunshot?”

  Both of them were killers, but that didn’t seem to matter to Hill. Any outburst would be a waste of energy. Hill had made up her mind about Amanda a long time ago.

  Amanda got to her feet, took her badge and cuffs from her pocket and put them on Hill’s desk.

  She looked down at what had been her life since she was twenty-one years old. She could accept that part of her life may be over and move forward—or she could fight. She wasn’t one to succumb to bullying, and if the last six years had taught her anything, it was just how formidable she was and how she could overcom
e anything. This setback included. And no matter how much Hill hated her or fought against her, her opinion didn’t have a bearing on Amanda’s value as a person or as a cop. If only Daniel had realized that his self-worth wasn’t reliant on other people’s approval. He might have never killed anyone.

  But Amanda saved lives. She worked for justice. That was in her blood.

  This was just a blip on her journey. She’d be back, and when she rose, Hill would most certainly fall.

  * * *

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  Books by Carolyn Arnold

  Detective Amanda Steele

  The Little Grave

  Stolen Daughters

  Brandon Fisher FBI series

  Eleven

  Silent Graves

  The Defenseless

  Blue Baby

  Violated

  Remnants

  On the Count of Three

  Past Deeds

  Detective Madison Knight series

  Ties That Bind

  Justified

  Sacrifice

  Found innocent

  Just Cause

  Deadly Impulse

  In the Line of Duty

  Power Struggle

  Shades of Justice

  What We Bury

  Life Sentence (prequel romantic suspense)

  McKinley Mysteries

  The Day Job is Murder

  Vacation is Murder

  Money is Murder

  Politics is Murder

  Family is Murder

  Shopping is Murder