by Matt Lincoln
Before she even registered what she was doing, she began to walk toward the dock.
“So, how much for the day?” She heard the tourist couple ask the boat-owner as they finally made it off of the boat and onto the dock.
“Well, normally, my prices are fixed,” the handsome boat-owner replied. “But for such a darling couple such as yourselves, I’ll give you a good discount.”
They were still laughing as she slunk her way quickly past them. She clambered onto the boat as quickly as she could, before anyone could stop her.
“Oh, um, excuse me,” the boat-owner muttered, clearly confused by her actions.
She ignored him and set Eddy down before moving toward the helm.
“Don’t move, okay?” she called quietly over her shoulder to him. He didn’t respond to her, just sat still where she’d left him, which wasn’t unusual. He was a quiet child. Too quiet, to be honest, and it broke her heart that he had grown up to be like this. It was okay, though. They’d be gone from here soon to somewhere far away where he could grow up like a normal little boy.
She gave him a small smile before turning to examine the boat controls. The key was still in the ignition switch.
She’d ridden on a boat like this once, a long, long time ago. Her own parents had rented one, just like the nice couple behind her had intended to do. She’d sat on her father’s lap, and he’d let her push the throttle. She could still remember the joy she’d felt as they’d zoomed across the water that day. The last day she ever saw her parents.
“Hey, stop!” the boat-owner yelled as she pushed the throttle all the way forward, the same way she’d done back then. He ran down the dock toward the boat, but it was already accelerating away.
She gasped as the boat took off at an alarming speed. She held the steering wheel nervously. She’d never even driven a car before. As if there was a chance the men would have let her.
A split second later, a loud bang resonated through the air, and Eddy screamed.
She let go of the wheel and turned around. The first thing she saw was Antonio standing on the edge of the dock and aiming his gun up at her.
“Eddy!” she screamed as she crouched down to examine him. He was crying, but to her relief, it seemed as though he was uninjured. He must have just been frightened by the loud noise. There was a small hole in the hull of the boat just a few inches away from him, and she shuddered at the thought that he’d come that close to being hit.
She peered back up over the edge of the boat. Antonio was just a small dot in the distance now, and growing smaller by the second.
“Just lie down for a little while, okay?” she crooned as she kissed the top of the boy’s head and gently eased him onto the floor of the boat. She wished now that she’d at least thought to bring a blanket or something for him. The weather was clear and hot right now, but it would start getting dark in just a few hours.
He did as she said without offering any resistance, and she felt a pang of frustration at how obedient he was. She’d seen other children his age on the beach before. They were always rowdy, running around and screaming and pitching fits when their parents tried to drag them away from their fun. Eddy wasn’t like that at all.
As she got back up to return to the helm, she told herself that it would be okay. Once they were somewhere safe, Eddy would have the chance to do all of those things, too. They just had to wait a little while longer.
For a few minutes, it didn’t seem real. It wasn’t until she looked back and realized that the entire island was nothing but a black spot in the distance that she allowed herself to relax, a bubble of broken laughter rising out of her.
She’d done it. She’d really done it. After years of suffering in that living hell, she’d finally escaped.
They were free.
2
Olivia
Special Agent Olivia Hastings sighed as she made her way down the long hallway, the heels of her shoes clicking against the linoleum flooring as she moved. As a senior agent for the Special Victims department of the FBI’s Miami Division, she was unfortunately all too familiar with these types of crimes. It never got any easier to deal with child victims, though. It was always extra heartbreaking when an innocent child suffered as a result of someone else’s actions, and Olivia was certain there was an especially painful place in Hell for the kind of people that hurt kids.
Once again, she’d been called in to assist in a case involving a child. What was peculiar about this case was that no one seemed to be sure exactly what kind of crime had been committed. Something had obviously happened since, according to the preliminary report she’d received, the boy had been found malnourished, filthy, and covered with burns. At best, it was a case of severe neglect, and at worst, well, Olivia supposed that it was up to her to find out.
The weather in Miramar, Florida, was both hot and humid that day, and Olivia found herself regretting the choice to wear a jacket that morning the moment she stepped outside. They were called the Miami division, but really they were located about half an hour north of the oceanside paradise most people envisioned when they pictured Miami. Miramar was far enough inland that they ended up with all the uncomfortable mugginess of Florida without any of the pretty scenery.
Weather like this always made her feel sluggish and grumpy, so she hurried across the parking lot to her car. She wasted no time in turning the AC on the moment she got inside, and she let out a sigh of relief as soon as the ice-cold air hit her.
She spent the drive over to the police station taking slow, calming breaths. She’d been doing this job for nearly a decade now, and she was damned good at it, but she’d have been lying if she’d said that the cases didn’t sometimes get to her. How could they not, when so many of them involved innocent, helpless, vulnerable people experiencing things no one should ever have to go through? It was important to know how to remain calm and collected. She owed that much to the victims that relied on her.
The report that her boss had given her had been frustratingly vague.
“They don’t have a lot to go on yet,” her director had told her. “But since the victim is an unaccompanied minor who appears to have been abused, it falls under our jurisdiction.”
Now that she was here, she was really hoping that someone would be able to clue her in a little.
“Agent Hastings?” a nervous-looking man with wiry hair and thick glasses called out to her as soon as she stepped through the doors of the station.
“That’s me,” she replied with a nod.
“Hi.” The man smiled awkwardly. “I’m Detective Levi Brownstone. I spoke with your director on the phone earlier.”
“I see,” Olivia replied as she reached out to shake the man’s hand. “I don’t suppose you could fill me in a little about the case? The details you gave us over the phone were pretty scarce.”
“Ah, yes, sorry,” the detective mumbled. “That’s the thing. I don’t really have many more details to give.”
“What do you mean?” Olivia asked.
“Well, we can’t find anything.” Levi shrugged as he led Olivia further into the station. “And I mean anything. After getting him checked out at the hospital… he’s fine by the way, other than the sunburns… we took footprints, fingerprints, dental scans, and even a DNA sample, but everything came back negative so far.”
“Everything?” Olivia raised an eyebrow at him. It wasn’t all that unusual, she supposed, considering a kid would be less likely to have any kind of government record. Kids don’t have driver’s licenses, jobs, passports, or criminal records, so it wasn’t too unusual that nothing came up. Still, in today’s world of social media and digital technology, it was weird for there to be absolutely nothing.
“We even ran a facial scan.” Levi shrugged. “Though, to be honest, that kind of technology is still pretty experimental. We weren’t able to find any birth or school records either, and when we input his suspected age and physical description into the missing person’s database, we didn�
��t get a result there either.”
“That’s… strange.” Olivia frowned.
“Yeah, it really is.” Levi nodded. “It’s like he just popped out of nowhere. As for the kid’s medical condition, it’s all over the place.”
“How do you mean?” Olivia asked as they came to a stop in front of a door.
“Well, you know how I said ‘suspected’ age?” he replied. “Well, the doc that examined him says it’s difficult to tell, but that he thinks the kid is around five or six years old. They thought he was younger at first, though, because he’s barely three feet tall, and apparently, his bone growth is pretty stunted.”
“So it’s evident this is a case of long-term neglect,” Olivia muttered coldly.
“Seems that way.” Levi nodded. “What’s more, the kid barely talks. I thought he was a toddler the first time I spoke to him since he just talks in one-word sentences.”
“What about the people that called the police?” Olivia asked. “I heard it was a young couple.”
“Yeah, a couple of teenagers,” Levi confirmed. “I guess they were out on a date when the kid just walked right up to them.”
“Any reason to suspect them?” Olivia asked, though she doubted a pair of kids were involved.
“Nah,” Levi sighed. “I thought that too, til I saw the two of them. If the kid is really five, like the doctor thinks, then I seriously doubt he’s theirs. The girl seemed pretty shaken up too.”
“Alright.” Olivia nodded. “Let me talk to him.”
Levi opened the door and led her inside. She was relieved to see that it wasn’t an interrogation room, but rather something that looked like a small break room. The boys in blue could be a little dense when it came to handing special victims, and she’d been genuinely concerned that they might have stuffed the poor kid into a tiny interrogation chamber while they waited for her.
Instead, he was sitting on the floor, dragging a bright purple crayon across several sheets of paper at once.
“Wow, that looks beautiful!” the woman sitting on the floor beside him praised him.
The kid looked up and gave her a small, lopsided smile before returning to his drawing.
“Mrs. Abernathy,” Levi announced as he cleared his throat. “This is Agent Hastings. She’s from the FBI Special Victims unit.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Abernathy,” Olivia said as she leaned down to shake the woman’s hand.
“Likewise.” The woman smiled up at her.
“Mrs. Abernathy is the social worker assigned to the boy’s case,” Levi explained. “I’ll leave you guys to it. Don’t want to crowd the kid, make him feel nervous or anything.”
“I think that would be a good idea.” Mrs. Abernathy smiled warmly at him.
He nodded once before turning to take his leave.
“He’s a charming one,” she chuckled as soon as the detective was gone. “Reminds me a little of my oldest. Do you have children, Agent Hastings?”
“I’m afraid not,” Olivia replied. “I’m married to my work.”
“Aren’t we all?” Mrs. Abernathy smiled ruefully before looking down at the kid. “Eddy? This nice lady wants to talk to you. Do you think that would be okay?”
“Eddy?” Olivia whispered as the boy put his crayons down and turned his big blue eyes up at her.
“Just got it out of him a minute before you came in,” Mrs. Abernathy whispered back. “He seems to be responding to it.”
“Hello, Eddy.” Olivia smiled down at the child in front of her.
“Hi,” he replied quietly, though she noted that he wasn’t making eye contact with her.
“My name’s Olivia,” she replied as she eased herself down to sit on the floor next to him. “You can call me ‘Ollie’ if you want, though. That’s what my friends call me.”
“Okay,” Eddy replied. He still wasn’t looking at her, but the tensity in his small shoulders seemed to ease a little.
“Is there something special that your friends call you?” Olivia prodded gently. Asking about his friends and interests would be more likely to get him to open up than asking directly about what had happened to him.
“No,” he replied flatly before picking up a crayon and turning it over in his fingers. That was interesting. It seemed as though he had no trouble with small motor functions, which would indicate that his developmental issues were more cognitive than they were physical. Still, it was odd given how short and skinny he was for his age. How was it that he was so behind in some areas, but not others?
“Well, that’s okay.” Olivia smiled. “What kinds of games do you like to play with your friends?”
“I don’t have friends,” Eddy murmured. “I not allowed.”
Olivia exchanged a perturbed look with Mrs. Abernathy. That was a pretty blatant red flag.
“Well, how about you be my friend?” Olivia asked. “I sure would love to have a new friend.”
The crayon went still in his hand as he looked up at her. He stared at her for a long moment, and Olivia was momentarily stunned by how blue his eyes were.
“Okay.” He nodded after mulling it over for a while. He started to rock gently back and forth, which could have either been a sign of distress or of happiness. Olivia hadn’t spent enough time with him to figure out which it was.
“Really?” She grinned as convincingly as she could, despite how awful the situation made her feel. “That makes me so happy!”
She spent another hour much in the same way, slowly building up a rapport with the boy. She alternated between asking him increasingly meaningful questions and just playing with him, careful not to do anything that might upset or overwhelm him. It was important to have both patience and an abundance of calm when dealing with vulnerable kids, and Olivia had both in spades.
“So, what are your thoughts?” Olivia quietly asked Mrs. Abernathy a little while later, once Eddy had returned to his art. They had moved to sit at a nearby table where they could speak without being overheard while still being able to keep an eye on him. Even though he wasn’t talking much, it did seem like Eddy was listening when they spoke since he always responded to what they asked, even if it was in one-word answers.
“There are pretty obvious signs of neglect,” she replied seriously. “He should be speaking a lot more by this age, and even if we were to just assume that he’s shy, it’s still obvious that he has issues expressing his feelings. What’s more concerning is that usually, kids will lash out and act aggressively when they’re unable to communicate, but he does the exact opposite. He just shuts down and stops talking entirely.”
“I agree.” Olivia pursed her lips. “Do you think he might be on the spectrum?”
“I had my suspicions at first,” Mrs. Abernathy replied. “But I don’t think so. I think a lot of the habits we observed are likely closer to coping mechanisms and a result of lack of social interaction.”
“You think he was isolated?” Olivia asked.
“Well, he did say he wasn’t allowed to have any friends,” Mrs. Abernathy sighed sadly. “Social interaction is extremely important for young children. It could certainly explain the communication issues and his inability to maintain eye contact.”
“That’s--” Olivia cut herself off, unable to find a term that was adequate to describe just how appalling she found the situation.
Their conversation was interrupted by a knocking at the door, and a moment later, Levi poked his head into the room.
“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” he began nervously. “I need to speak with you, Agent Hastings.”
“We were just about finished,” Olivia replied before turning to Mrs. Abernathy.
“Thank you for speaking with me.” She smiled at the social worker. “And for allowing me to speak with Eddy.”
“Of course,” Ms. Abernathy replied. “Whatever I can do to help this little man.”
She looked fondly down at Eddy, and Olivia felt glad that he was in the care of someone who genuinely seemed to care about him.
She followed Levi out into the hallway. “What’s going on?”
“We just got a call from your director,” he explained. “The DNA samples we sent out to your lab are back.”
“Oh, right,” Olivia replied abashedly. “I turned my phone off so my interview with the victim wouldn’t be interrupted. Sorry about that.”
“No, it’s fine,” Levi muttered. “Um, anyway, it looks like we might have a match.”
“A match?” Olivia repeated, unsure at first what he was talking about. “Wait, a match for the victim? How? Everything came back negative when the police ran a preliminary search. Is it attached to a sealed case or something?”
If the DNA was part of a case that wasn’t public knowledge, it would make sense that it hadn’t come up on a regular police search. The FBI had more than a few cases that required certain levels of security clearance to access.
“Not exactly,” Levi replied. “It actually wasn’t from a police or federal database.”
“Well, where did you find it, then?” Olivia asked, thoroughly confused at this point.
“Maybe you should just look over the details yourself,” he muttered. “I’ve got everything pulled up in my office now.”
“Alright,” Olivia replied. “Lead the way, then.”
3
Ethan
I did my best not to snicker as Holm hauled the massive cork board onto my boat. We’d decided to spend the afternoon going over every clue and detail we’d managed to dig up about the Dragon’s Rogue, and I’d been a little confused when he’d insisted on heading home to pick something up before coming over.
“What the hell is that?” I asked as he propped the bulky thing up on the back of the couch so it could lean against the wall.
“I took the liberty of charting everything we’ve discovered so far,” he replied proudly as he stood back to let me admire his work.
It was funny how suddenly my search for the Dragon’s Rogue had suddenly become our search. I’d been on the hunt for the old pirate ship ever since my grandfather, who’d been just as obsessed with finding it, had passed the torch onto me. In all fairness, Holm had played a pretty big part in finding a lot of the clues so far, so I supposed it was only fair that he felt it was his quest now too. In any case, it was nice having my best friend along for the journey.
