Child With No Name

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Child With No Name Page 25

by Franklin Horton

She still had the matter of Raylene hanging out there. That whole transaction had been derailed by the emergency in North Carolina and she was afraid to leave town without wrapping that up. If she gave Raylene any more time to think about it, she might change her mind. Karen didn't want that to happen. She threw out a lot of bait for just a few nibbles and she wasn't letting this one get away. Three kids in a single purchase was an exceptional score.

  She scrolled through the recent calls on her phone. It took a moment to find Raylene's number. She punched it in and waited while it rang, grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator. When she shut the door, it woke the baby and she rolled her eyes.

  "Hello?"

  "Hi, Raylene, it's Karen from the clinic. How are you?"

  Raylene perked up. "Oh, hi, Karen. I'm good. I was wondering when I'd hear back from you."

  "Yeah, I'm sorry our plans got interrupted. The boss called me out of town on an emergency. It wasn't something I could get out of."

  "Is that a baby I hear crying?"

  Karen let out a tense breath. Of course it was. The baby was always crying. "Yes, Raylene, that's part of why I had to go out of town. I had to pick up a newborn that's on its way to a new home. I was hoping to leave town today, so I was wondering if we could go ahead and make our little transaction."

  Raylene hesitated.

  "Is everything okay? You haven't changed your mind have you?"

  "Uh no, I haven't changed my mind. It's just a hard thing, you know."

  Karen transformed into her understanding, supportive counselor voice. It was the farthest thing from the actual contempt and frustration she really felt at the moment. "I understand that, Raylene, and I don't want you to do something you don't want to do. I'm simply trying to facilitate your recovery. If losing the pressure of raising children helps you to get better, then that's what I want for you."

  "Do you have the money?" Raylene asked.

  "Yes, I have the money," Karen said, a little snippiness creeping into her tone. Why would she have called if she didn't have the money? "When can we meet?"

  "It may have to be later this afternoon," Raylene replied.

  Karen sighed. "I'm sorry, that's not going to work for me. I need to get this infant to its new home. I need to be on my way as soon as possible because I have a long drive ahead of me. If you want to make this deal, we need to get it done in the next hour."

  This threw Raylene for a loop because she took a moment to answer. Karen couldn't imagine what she had to do that was so pressing.

  "Okay, where do you want to meet?"

  "Isn't there a shopping center outside of town that they closed down recently?"

  "Yeah, I know the place. On the old highway outside of town. In one hour?"

  "Yes," said Karen. "One hour. Remember to bring one suitcase per child. No more."

  "They don't have suitcases. Is it okay if it's like a backpack or something?"

  Karen rolled her eyes. "That's fine. I don't care if they're carrying garbage bags. See you in an hour."

  She shook her head in disgust. She'd be so glad when she didn't have to deal with people like this anymore. A couple of more years and she could move to some gated community in Florida. Someplace tropical with a nice tiki bar and a happy hour every day.

  The baby was still crying so Karen slapped on her noise-canceling headphones. Not perfect but an improvement. She got her luggage together for a trip to Harrison's place. There she'd turn the monsters over to Julie and they'd no longer be her problem. Hopefully, Harrison would allow her a day or two to enjoy civilization before she had to return to coercing drug-addicted hillbillies out of their children.

  She hurried to her bedroom and packed a suitcase with several days' worth of clothing, and retrieved the emergency Go Bag Harrison encouraged her to keep. It included clothes, a new identity, a hefty stack of cash, and a handgun.

  Since she was leasing the house, she didn't have a wall safe but she did have a heavy lockbox in one of the closets. She went inside and removed the cash to give Raylene. She also removed a separate packet of cash which constituted the "profit" she'd skimmed from some of the transactions. She had a banker in Mobile who could deposit the money in such a way as not to trigger the regulations around large cash deposits. Getting that money into her special accounts would allow her to access it from anywhere in the world if she had to go on the run.

  She loaded her luggage into the rear of the Escalade, placing her handgun and Raylene's cash in the console. When she was done, she went inside the house and finished her cup of coffee. As much as she hated to, she picked up the baby and held it, finally getting a moment of peace when it quit crying.

  53

  Marion, Virginia

  Raylene rushed around her house in a panic. Karen's call had caught her off-guard. She'd immediately tried to call Agent Baxter but the call went to voicemail. The same thing happened when she tried to call Lieutenant Whitt. She had no idea what to do but was afraid to let this opportunity pass. Raylene understood that her angst was fueled by the sound of a baby crying in the background. The idea that Karen, that child-buying monster, had somehow obtained an infant was too much. She couldn't let it go.

  She considered calling her old department and asking for help, but she didn't know how they'd respond. Most of them knew she'd developed a drug problem and none were up to speed on this clinic investigation. They'd probably think she was delusional and try to get her committed to an inpatient facility for a mental health evaluation. That's what she would have done if someone called her with a crazy story like this.

  She glanced at her watch. She had maybe twenty minutes until she needed to leave the house if she was going to make the appointment. There was only one way this was going to work. If she couldn't get backup, she was going to have to make the arrest herself. Besides, it wasn't like she was a total civilian—she'd done this before. She limped into the bedroom and pulled out the drawer that held her old life as a deputy.

  She removed the soft body armor that her husband had bought her as a gift when he still loved her. She pulled it over her head and velcroed the sides together. She found the clip-on holster she'd used to carry her weapon when she was off-duty and clipped it onto the waistband of her denim shorts. She tugged on it to make certain it was secure. Satisfied, she loaded her handgun, chambered a round, and slid it into the holster.

  She opened her old badge-holder and stared at the blank side where she'd carried her badge when she was off-duty. The impression the heavy badge made was still there but it was all that remained. She had no badge, no authority, and likely no business getting involved in this situation on her own, but it was personal. She saw it as a path to redemption. Instead of her old colleagues looking at her with pity, maybe they could be proud of her again. Maybe they wouldn't avoid her in public like they did now.

  She put on an oversize flannel shirt and checked the mirror to confirm that it obscured her body armor and her handgun. It wasn't perfect. She was a curvy woman and the soft armor didn't bend naturally around curves. She added a hoodie on top of the flannel and it helped some, though it was a little too warm for the late summer morning.

  She headed into the living room and found her children piled around the television. She turned it off and they all looked at her expectantly. "I need you all to get your school backpacks and get in the car. We need to take a ride. I'll explain to you what we're doing as we drive but it's very important that you listen to what Mommy says. So you guys get your backpacks, run to the bathroom, and let's get going."

  As they did when she used her Mommy-voice, they scrambled into action. She had to find one's pack and help another with shoes, but in five minutes they were all buckled into their car seats. As they drove, she explained.

  "Mommy has to meet a friend from her old job. This friend is not very nice and sometimes we argue. If she and Mommy start arguing, I want you all to unbuckle each other and get on the floor of the back seat. It's very important. Can you do that?"

/>   They all agreed that they could, though their expressions indicated they found the request to be strange. With this settled, nervousness flooded Raylene's body. She tried calling Agent Baxter and Lieutenant Whitt again, with no success.

  When she was five minutes from the vacant shopping center she realized that there was one more number in that group message she'd received from Agent Baxter. She thought it belonged to Ty Stone, the local veteran who was working with the anti-trafficking organization, but she wasn't certain. She clicked on the number and prayed as it rang.

  54

  Abingdon, Virginia

  Ty had finally located the house where Karen lived but there was no Escalade in the driveway. There was a garage and he supposed the car could be inside but he couldn't exactly walk up there and peer through the window. This was a big subdivision, with a lot of retired folks living there. People were walking around everywhere. Approaching the house and peeking inside was a good way to have the cops called on you.

  He was figuring out his next move when his cellphone rang. He didn't recognize the number but punched the button to answer it through his truck speakers. "Hello?"

  "Mr. Stone, thank God it's you."

  The voice sounded familiar but he couldn't immediately place it. "Who is this?"

  "This is Raylene Kidd. I—"

  "I remember you, Ms. Kidd," Ty interrupted. "How are you?"

  "Well, I don't know exactly. I may have just done something very stupid. I might need help."

  Ty chuckled. "I'm the last person you want to call if bad decisions are your problem, Raylene. I'm the king of bad decisions."

  She returned his nervous laugh. "We'll see about that. I might be about to overtake you. Listen, I don't have much time. Karen, the counselor from the clinic, called this morning and said she needed to do the transaction this morning because she had to deliver a newborn to parents who were going to adopt it."

  "A newborn?" Ty echoed, his hackles going up. It had to be the baby from North Carolina—the very reason he was sitting outside Karen's house this very moment.

  "I tried calling Agent Baxter and Lieutenant Whitt but no one is answering."

  "The agent is in North Carolina," Ty replied. "It's a long story. I don't know about Whitt."

  "I thought about calling the sheriff's department but, well, they think I'm damaged goods because of my addiction. They'll put my call across the scanner and this won't be a secret anymore. Word will reach the clinic and the undercover investigation will be compromised."

  "What can I do for you, Raylene? What do you need?"

  "I can't let this opportunity pass, especially if she's got an infant. I'm going to meet Karen in about three minutes at a shopping center outside of town. We're going to do the transaction and I'm going to take her down. Once I've got her, I'll call in backup."

  "How are you going to do the deal with no children?" Ty asked.

  "I'm taking my kids. I've explained this to them. They'll be fine."

  Ty whipped his steering wheel, stomped the gas pedal, and did a screeching U-turn. "Tell me where you're meeting her, Raylene. This is a very bad idea. These are dangerous people."

  "I'm trained for this, Ty. I've arrested hundreds of people over the years. I know what I'm doing."

  Ty felt like he was arguing with himself for a moment. Raylene sounded just like him. She was demonstrating the same logic he'd used to justify so many of the crazy things he did. "Tell me where you're meeting! I'm in town. I can meet you there."

  "We're at that shopping center they just closed on the old highway. I'm getting ready to pull in now."

  "Dammit, Raylene, drive on by! Wait for me to get there! Give me a few minutes!"

  "Sorry, Ty. I can't do that. I can see her waiting on me, so I need to get off the phone. If you want to help, keep trying to get Baxter on the phone."

  Ty slammed his fist onto the steering wheel. He shot through the neighborhood at twice the posted limit. He knew there would be phone calls to the cops. It was that kind of neighborhood. At the entrance, he pulled out into traffic, tires spinning as he hung a right.

  This part of town was always crowded and today was no exception. Despite his weaving and honking, he couldn't get around the line of cars. When he'd finally worked his way to the interstate exit, he punched the gas and flew up the onramp, his V-8 screaming. Cars and semi-trucks were packing the interstate, but Ty paid them no attention. He merged like he was the only driver on the road, swerving into the far left lane and accelerating with all his truck had.

  He snatched his phone up from the console and tried Baxter again. It went straight to voicemail. The same thing happened when he tried Cliff. He imagined that the two of them were working with the freed prisoners at the farm and didn't have time to deal with him right now. He tried Whitt, though the last thing he wanted to do was tell her that he was involved in some crazy endeavor again.

  Whitt's phone went to voicemail too. The situation in North Carolina would be out of Whitt's jurisdiction so it had to be something else. Maybe she was in a meeting or a training, or she had a day off and was planting fucking petunias in her yard. He had no clue but time was running out.

  He wanted to call Raylene back and get her on the line. He wanted to tell her to get out of there and get her kids to safety. He knew there was no point. She wouldn't answer. She thought like he did. She would not be deterred.

  55

  Abingdon, Virginia

  While Karen drove to the meeting spot at the empty shopping center, the infant wailed incessantly in the back seat. Despite the noise, she got on the phone and called the clinic to inform them she wouldn't be in today and tell them that she'd be leaving town for a few days on business. The receptionist sounded rattled when she answered the phone. Even the way she pronounced the clinic's name was off.

  "Hey, it's Karen. Are you okay?"

  "Oh my God, Karen, it's awful. Dr. Jacoby was just killed. He was walking along the road and got hit by a truck."

  Karen was taken aback. She couldn't believe her ears. "Excuse me? He what?"

  The receptionist took a deep calming breath, then began again slowly. "For some reason, Dr. Jacoby decided to take a walk when he got here this morning. His car was parked in the lot but he didn't come inside. He was walking down the road and got hit by a dump truck. I don't know how it happened exactly, but he was killed instantly. The police haven't told us anything except what I told you."

  The news shook Karen and for a moment she couldn't even remember why she'd called the clinic. Then it hit her. "Oh, I need to let you know that I won't be in for a few days. I have to attend a training outside of town. I'll be back next week."

  "Okay, I'll mark it down," the receptionist assured her. "Do you want me to text you if they announce any arrangements for Dr. Jacoby?"

  "Yeah, sure." Karen really didn't care but assumed it was the right thing to say under the circumstances. She had no plans to attend any memorial service for the spineless physician.

  Karen had left early so she could pick up some diapers and formula at the store. She whipped into a Wal-Mart parking lot and considered her options. The last thing she wanted to do was carry the baby with her. Everyone made such a fuss over the stupid little things and she had no interest in putting up with all of the cooing and smiling. It made her want to throw up. Neither could she leave it in the car though. Some do-gooder would most certainly call the cops on her and she'd have to deal with that whole mess.

  The ordeal took around twenty minutes and was every bit as unpleasant as she expected it would be. Every time someone approached, they had that look on their face and it was all she could do not to roll her eyes in response. She moved as quickly as she could, gathering the things she needed, but it still took longer than she wanted.

  As she shopped, her mind turned over the events at the clinic. How odd was it that the doctor had been hit by a truck? And what the heck was he doing out walking along the road? As far as she knew, he'd never done anything like t
hat before. Was it a reaction to the stress of the recent circumstances?

  Then another thought hit her. Had Harrison had Dr. Jacoby killed?

  She considered this as she strapped the infant in the car seat. It seemed unlikely. After all, physicians were hard to recruit and Dr. Jacoby had been going along with the program, however reluctantly. Despite his reservations, he'd done the things they asked of him and had made no threats about going to the authorities. Every indication was that he'd accepted the state of things and was ready to go along with it. It just didn't make sense.

  What it did do was make Karen nervous. As she drove, she removed her 9mm Walther from the console and tucked it into one of the pockets of the driver's door where it would be a little easier to get to if she needed it.

  She reached the parking lot before Raylene. The only other vehicle in the lot was a Honda Civic sitting on four flats, an old sock hanging from the driver's side window like a flag of surrender. Karen picked a spot about midway between the road and the empty building. It would give them a little privacy from passers-by, but she'd still be clearly visible to Raylene when she pulled into the lot.

  She hated to wait but she knew Raylene lived in a different town, plus she had three kids to wrangle up. She tried to be patient, getting out of the running vehicle and lighting a cigarette. She leaned against the shiny white quarter panel and contemplated a future lived in shorts and flip-flops. She'd thought her way through her second imaginary rum drink when another vehicle entered the parking lot.

  Karen flipped the cigarette butt away as Raylene pulled in alongside her. There was something in Raylene's eye that immediately made Karen nervous. She'd done enough transactions like this over the years that she knew what to expect. She typically saw shame and remorse. There were tears and hugs. Karen would offer up her little lies to make them feel better, assuring the parents that the decision was the best one for everyone.

 

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