by K. T. Tomb
“Good. Can we concentrate on catching the real criminal and getting my daughter back?”
“We’re working on it.”
“Who lives in the house on the other side of you?” Agent Calder asked.
“No one now. I heard that a bank owns it. It’s in foreclosure. And, as the local cops discovered, it was locked and boarded up.”
“Did they go on that property with the bloodhound?”
“I don’t know. Don’t you agencies talk to each other?”
“Not as well as we’d like. The FBI’s request for a search warrant for that empty house is in progress.”
“How long will that take?” Mary asked.
“Depends.”
“If it helps, I haven’t seen any cars in that driveway for months and the only cars I have seen near it were real estate agents who parked on the street and didn’t go in—there’s no lockbox yet. It’s not even for sale yet, that I know of.”
He nodded. “We just have to check everything.”
“Please don’t waste valuable time on checking that house. We already know that someone drove her away in a car. They didn’t snatch her and hide next door.”
“I agree that is what happened, but the proximity of an empty house to a crime scene is always a red flag for me. It’s always checked, even if it turns out to be a dead end. Your house is ground zero. We work outward from it—I don’t skip anything that sticks out at me. I am an anal and obsessive checker and re-checker. Understand?”
She nodded, trying to be patient with this dolt.
“Why would someone want to take your daughter, Mrs. Gordon?” he continued.
“For the hundredth time, I don’t know.”
“Who do you think took her?”
“If I knew that, I would be killing him right now, instead of standing here talking to you.”
The agent said hmmm and ticked off something on his smartphone.
“Look at me, not your phone.” Mary’s voice was quivering. “I don’t know who and I don’t know why. Stop asking the same questions in different ways! I’m not intellectually deficient. My answers are going to be the same every time because it’s the truth.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “Listen to me. I’m scared shitless that some pervert is harming my child, even as we speak. Every second that ticks by could mean her life.”
“That’s true,” the agent said.
“I pray for a ransom demand because it looks like you guys have nothing yet.” She looked away from the agent toward the landline phone. “Ring, goddammit!” she screamed and pounded her fist on the kitchen counter near it.
Within seconds, three other FBI agents were scrambling to see what had suddenly caused her to scream.
“Are you okay, Mrs. Gordon?” Zack Donovan, the tall, dark-haired Special Agent, arrived in the room first as two others snapped past the door in the hall. Under normal circumstances, she would have found Special Agent Donovan extremely attractive with his dark curly hair, square jaw, and penetrating blue eyes, but her mind was focused on Cassidy’s kidnapping.
“No, Special Agent Donovan, I’m not okay! Some bastard took my baby while I was busy killing a rattlesnake! I didn’t walk away to make a phone call or to stir something on the stove. I was saving my baby from a poisonous snake! I’m a good mother! I was only distracted for less than a minute, maybe two, by that snake. Ordinarily, she is never out of my sight, except when she goes to the bathroom at home.”
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t. Not unless someone took your child could you even possibly understand my terror, my agony, and my worry. I am freaked out of my mind! Where is she? Is she safe? Is he hurting her? You know exactly what I’m worried about. Answer me! Where is she?”
“We don’t know yet where she is or if she’s safe.”
“Then give me someone who knows something!” Mary demanded.
Special Agent Donovan frowned. “We’re on it. Keep as calm as possible and leave it to us.” He paused. “Why is your daughter hardly ever out of your sight? What or who are you afraid of?”
“Are you accusing me of being overprotective?”
“No, Mrs. Gordon, I’m just wondering why your daughter can’t be out of your sight, except to go to the bathroom.”
“Because she’s precious to me, that’s why. I am a widow and except for my sister and her family, Cassidy is the only family I have left. I have to be there for her—my parents weren’t for me and I swore that—”
“Did something happen to you as a child, then?” asked Agent Eric Calder.
“That’s irrelevant. Look what has happened to her. She’s gone. Gone! Do you even have children?” she hissed through gritted teeth.
“No, ma’am,” Calder replied.
“Then how in the hell could you possibly understand that, since the day she was born, I have protected her at every moment?”
He did not respond. He was the smuggest of the bunch. His perfectly styled, short, dark red hair and smartly tailored suit told her where his real priorities were. His suit likely cost more than her car.
“We are doing everything we can, ma’am.”
“No, you’re not. You’re all squatting in my house asking me about random things or things that happened years ago to me as a child while my daughter is being taken to God-only-knows-where and having God-only-knows-what done to her! I know what that’s like to have things done to you and that is why I’m overprotective!”
“Let’s talk about your childhood,” Calder said.
“I am not going to talk about my old history because this is about Cassidy, not about me!” She was shouting now, but no one dared tell her to shut up.
“Mrs. Gordon, we are just the on-site team. As we speak, there are thousands of agents across the country and overseas searching for your daughter.”
“Overseas?” Her voice rose an octave.
“We want to stop the abductor from getting out of the country with her, but if it happens, we have resources abroad, too.”
“You’re talking about child trafficking?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“Oh, God!” Mary wailed. “My baby!”
“The Amber Alert system is in place and local law enforcement agencies across the country have been notified. Every possible route to exit the country is being watched closely. We are right now trying to match the tire pattern to the car tracks and figure out what type of vehicle the perp used for the abduction.”
“He’s probably ditched that car by now,” Mary said. “It might have been a rental or stolen.”
“Probably. We have many people looking for Cassidy. Have a little faith in our system.”
It sounded like a lot of manpower and she knew that with the available technology, the net was spread wide, but if they were all so damned good, why hadn’t Cassidy been located? She was fed up with hearing how efficient and widespread the FBI and law enforcement was.
“What’s going on in your head, Mary?” asked Special Agent Donovan, the handsome one. He didn’t seem smug or entitled like Agent Calder.
“Truthfully? I want to know what percentage of abducted children are found by the FBI,” she said.
He shifted his weight. “Mary, don’t go there. Not yet.”
“Okay, so you don’t want to tell me that. Tell me if you think my daughter is still alive. It’s been three hours. She’s alive, right?”
“I don’t know.”
“What are the odds? Tell me, you son of a bitch!” Mary said.
He narrowed his eyes for a split second. “Come with me,” he said and stepped into the laundry room, turned on the light, and closed the door after she followed him in there. “There’s no need for that sort of abusive language. I’m trying to help you.”
Her breath shuddered in and out. “No one has found her yet. I’m freaking out.”
“I see that. Please know that we’re all trying to find Cassidy. We care about missing people. That’s why I work for the FBI as a Spe
cial Agent.”
“What’s your…background?” Mary asked.
He looked taken aback. “Previously, I worked in military intel. That’s all you need to know about that part of my life. As an FBI agent, I’ve found kids who were kidnapped. I’ve worked on cases of national security. They called me in on your daughter’s kidnapping because they’ve got nothing. They trust me to get something. I’m with the FBI for two reasons: I am good at what I do, and I care. The word ‘Special’ in my job title means more than just the word, ‘Agent.’”
Mary was mortified. “I’m sorry I called you what I did. I’m just losing it here.”
Special Agent Donovan said, “Your anger is justified but misplaced. Of all the people on this case, if you don’t keep your act together, your daughter might die. You are unofficially on this team, too.”
“I am?”
“Yes. Everything you saw, heard, know, or even suspect, can be things that help us find your daughter. As Agent Calder said, we start with you and we work outward. The case becomes like concentric circles that get bigger and bigger.”
“Okay, thanks.” Her breath shuddered in and out. “She’s been gone for three hours. Please, do you think she’s alive? Tell me the odds!”
In the tight quarters of the laundry room, she should smell his minty breath and his aftershave and him.
“It’s not good,” he said softly, a muscle twitching in his clean-shaven cheek. “Seventy-four percent of children who are abducted by a stranger for the purpose of murder are murdered within three hours.”
“Oh, God, why did I even ask? That is terrifying!” She sobbed, “Please find Cassidy!” The panic in her voice left no doubt as to the depths of her agony.
“No stone will be left unturned. You have my solemn word.”
The special agent left her in the laundry room and returned to the living room with the other black-suited men wearing dark neckties. She could hear the murmur of their voices, but she couldn’t pick out any particular words. It was as if they were experts at speaking in low volumes.
“Cassidy, please be alive. Please be okay,” she began whispering to herself over and over as she wrung her hands.
Agent Zimmerman came in from the backyard and spoke so softly to Calder, his superior, that Mary said, “It’s cruel to withhold information from me. If you know something, please, just spit it out. I don’t want to find out later that you knew something and didn’t tell me. Give me a shred of hope!” She tried to refrain from swearing at them. Special Agent Donovan’s private talk with her had had an effect.
The men nodded to each other and then to her. Agent Zimmerman said, “We’ve got something. A clue.”
She gasped and clasped her hands, waiting. “What do you have?”
“The rattlesnake,” Zimmerman said.
“The rattlesnake?” Mary and Special Agent Donovan said at the same time.
“It’s a snake. Not a kidnapper!” Agent Calder said.
“Yes, it’s a rattlesnake,” Zimmerman said. “However, it’s not from around here. Not native. I mean, yeah, like you said, it’s a six-foot rattlesnake, all right, but our herp guy—he just got here—says it’s an Eastern diamondback rattler. Pretty rare, too. Apparently, it mostly lives from North Carolina to the Florida Keys.”
“But this is Southern California,” Mary said, as if they didn’t all know it.
“Yeah. Interesting, right? That really sticks out, but there’s something else, too.”
“What? Give it to me,” Mary begged Agent Zimmerman.
“This is weird as all get out. The herp guy—I mean, our snake expert—also said the snake was defanged and the venom sack has been surgically removed.”
“Defanged?” Special Agent Donovan echoed, his piercing blue eyes working on this clue like a computer. Mary could see the intelligence behind those eyes. “What the hell?”
Mary said, in wonder, “I don’t understand this at all. I’ve never even heard of doing that! What does this mean, this weird clue about the rattlesnake?”
Special Agent Donovan spoke. “It means, Mary, that someone likely planted that defanged snake in your yard to distract you, so he or she or they could snatch your kid while you were busy dealing with it. I assume the snake was defanged and had the venom sacks removed so your child wouldn’t get bitten.”
Mary said, “Oh, my God. I just remembered something weird. Cassidy said, ‘“Mommy! Rattlesnake! He flied!’”
“That’s significant,” Special Agent Donovan said. “I assume that means whoever did this tossed that rattlesnake over your cinderblock wall toward the tire swing where she was playing, knowing she would scream and you would come running.”
“This is most bizarre,” Agent Calder said. “I’ve never heard anything like this in all my years with the FBI.” He paused as he and agents Donovan and Zimmerman gave each other a slight nod.
“What?” Mary asked. “What are you all deciding?”
Special Agent Donovan said, “At this time, you’re no longer a person of interest in this case.”
Agent Calder said, “You’re just the mom.”
“Just the mom?” Mary replied, incredulous. She decided she didn’t like Agent Calder. She looked at Special Agent Donovan. “I was a person of interest? Is that why you’re taking fingerprints all over and tearing apart my phones, my emails, and my kid’s bedroom? And mine?”
“Yes, Mary.”
Mary huffed out a breath. “I saw your team sweeping my bed and hers with the black light, looking for semen or blood, which is sick! I watch CSI, too, you know. There hasn’t been a man in my life since Cassidy’s father died four years ago. She’s always been safe in this house with me. Always. Until today.”
Agent Calder said, “It’s procedure. We have to check everything, especially to investigate whether an abducted child has been previously abused and/or sexually abused.”
Mary gasped. “Now, that is sick. Just the two of us live here.”
“Women can be abusers, too. It’s our duty to check that out. But your laptop’s hard drive is full of recipes and crochet patterns and emails to your sister about your kids and craft events. There’s nothing untoward that we see. You’re in the clear now. No worries.”
She screamed at Agent Calder, “No worries? Are you insane?” Her voice rose in pitch and volume. “Stop looking at me as a suspect and start looking for my daughter! You’re wasting valuable time inside this house!”
“No, we’re not,” said another agent who came into the living room. “Mrs. Gordon, we haven’t been introduced. I’m Agent Emily Graves and one of my specialties is evidence gathering.”
“Forensics?” Mary asked.
“Yes. Using special chemicals, I discovered latent footprints in her bedroom—a man’s footprints—a size fourteen sports shoe.”
“He’s huge!” Agent Calder said.
“Yes, he is,” Agent Graves said. “Has anyone been in her room with shoes of that size?”
“No. That carpeting is new and I had it cut off the roll at Home Depot. I installed it myself.” She swallowed hard. “Are you sure there was a man in her room?”
Agent Graves said, “Positive.”
“How did he get in my house?”
“He broke the window lock, climbed through her window and stood by her bed.”
“This is a nightmare! She sleeps with me. Cassidy always sleeps with me! She only uses her room to play in during the day. She has night terrors, so I’ve been letting her sleep with me for years, ever since Joe was killed during that store robbery. Oh, God! A man was in my house! In Cassidy’s room! Do you know how frightening that is?”
“Yes, I do, Mary. However, I can almost guarantee he’s not coming back here,” Special Agent Donovan said, his eyes sympathetic and full of concern.
She put a hand to her throat. “I sleep with a handgun in my nightstand. He probably knew that if he was in the house. It has a trigger lock on it during the day when Cassidy is awake.”
“W
e have your gun,” Agent Calder said. “You’ll get it back after ballistics and forensics check it for fingerprints, other than yours.”
“You have my prints.” She held up her stained fingertips. “And you have my DNA sample from the cheek swab, too.”
Agent Calder said, “Hopefully, we’ll get a sample of his DNA from something in your house. Now we’re taking samples from your bedroom.”
“That’s not reassuring. Find my daughter!” She wanted to hit them. She wanted to hurt them. They were making her crazy with the things they kept finding, with the offbeat things they kept digging at her with.
“Try to stay focused, Mrs. Gordon. Have you had a lover since your husband died?” Calder asked.
“I haven’t even been on a date. Cassie is my whole world! I have to do something. Give me my gun back.”
“You’ll get it back when we’re done with it,” Calder said. “It could contain evidence.”
“Then…I’m going to a gun store to buy another gun tomorrow,” she vowed. “And I’m going to find this bastard myself and get my daughter back.”
“Don’t do that, Mary,” Special Agent Donovan said. He was the only one calling her by her first name. “Leave it to us. Anyway, there’s a waiting period on gun purchases.”
“Then I’ll borrow one.”
Special Agent Donovan shook his head.
Agent Calder said, “Tomorrow, we’ll send an agent to stay with you for a few days. We’ll try to get a female agent. It’s the best thing for you to stay here and not be driving all over Southern California, trying to find Cassidy by yourself. The agent who stays with you will be working with you on the continuing investigation and also, keeping you informed of our progress. She will be your liaison to the department.”
After several choking sobs, she nodded, acquiescing. “All right. Thank you.”
They had all put their business cards on the kitchen counter for her. Special Agent Donovan gave her a long look with those sapphire-blue eyes and raised his eyebrows slightly and then cast his eyes on the business card he’d left.
When no one was looking at her, she picked up Special Agent Donovan’s card and flipped it over. He had handwritten a phone number and a short message: Call me anytime on my personal cell. I care.—Zack Donovan
