Suitcase Girl (Abby Kane FBI Thriller - SG Trilogy Book 1)

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Suitcase Girl (Abby Kane FBI Thriller - SG Trilogy Book 1) Page 6

by Ty Hutchinson


  Kang glanced at his wristwatch. “We better hurry out of here before he calls us into his office.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rosales was at the local women’s shelter talking to Miranda Massey, the shelter’s director of mental health, when her cell phone rang. She had a brief conversation and then slid the phone back into her purse.

  “You’ll never guess who that was,” she said.

  Massey shrugged. “Who?”

  “The FBI. Apparently they have an interest in the girl I just brought here.”

  “Really? Well, that has to be a good thing. Someone’s investigating.”

  “It should. The agent I spoke to didn’t go into details, only that they wanted to question the girl again.”

  “They’ve already spoken to her once?”

  “Apparently they stopped by the hospital after I left. I wasn’t aware of it. I’ll stay and supervise the next conversation.”

  “You’re always welcome here,” Massey said.

  “You were saying before the call, about the girl…”

  “Oh yes, about the girl. It’s completely normal for a child to clam up after a traumatic experience. Often a big part of their refusal to speak is because they simply can’t remember. The memory loss is temporary and usually only lasts for a few days, a week in more extreme cases. It all depends on the experience the child was put through.”

  “How would you rank being locked inside a suitcase and left outside in the cold?”

  “It’s not the worst that I’ve seen, but it’s up there. It really depends on the child. Some handle situations better than others. If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a few words with her alone before the FBI arrives.”

  “I’ll be right here if you need me,” Rosales said.

  Kang drove. He had traded in his beloved Crown Vic for one of the agency-issued SUVs shortly after joining the Bureau and never regretted it.

  “I don’t know why you don’t requisition one of these vehicles,” he said. “It’s great.”

  “Meh, I like my sporty beast.”

  We arrived at the shelter not long after I’d ended my call with Rosales. It was housed inside a funky, bay-window-laden building located in the Mission on 18th Street. Colorful murals depicting women of all races, ages, and sizes involved in various activities like farming, cooking, teaching, and so forth covered most of the building.

  The entrance led to a large, open space with a few couches and sitting chairs. A young woman sat behind a small desk. Murals, in the same style as the ones on the outside of the building, graced the walls inside.

  I spied an old upright piano with a red-velvet padded bench. Whenever I see a piano, I regret not paying more attention during the lessons my father paid for when I was a child. As it stands, if the playlist calls for a loop of Heart and Soul, then I’m your gal.

  Kang and I must have stuck out like a sore thumb in our suits because before we made it to the reception desk a woman approached us.”

  “Are you Agent…?” She trailed off, her expression one of surprise—eyes wide, mouth hanging open.

  I produced my identification. “I’m Agent Kane, and this is Agent Kang.”

  The woman still hadn’t closed her mouth.

  “Is there something wrong?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry.” She shook her head and blinked excessively. “It’s just that… Has anyone told you—”

  “The girl and I look alike. Yes, I’m aware of it.”

  “The resemblance is incredible. I’m sorry.” She held out her hand. “I’m Christine Rosales, Child Protection Services.”

  Everyone shook hands.

  “I understand that both of you had a chance to talk to the girl yesterday at the hospital.

  “We did. Just a few questions.”

  “As her caseworker, I have to say this. You’re not allowed to question her alone. I need to be there.”

  “Protocol. Gotcha,” I said.

  “I’m glad you understand. So am I to assume the FBI’s interest is because you learned something from your first conversation?”

  “I wouldn’t call it a breakthrough, but we heard enough to believe she may not be from California.”

  “Oh?”

  “She didn’t actually answer our questions like you would expect. She either nodded ‘yes’ or shook her head ‘no’ when asked closed-ended questions. We determined that she’s twelve. I rattled off most of the major surrounding cities, and she indicated ‘no’ to them all.”

  “Interesting leap. Regardless of the reason, I’m glad you’re involved.”

  “Where is she?” I asked.

  “She’s being settled in by Miranda Massey; she’s in charge of the center. When I spoke with her earlier, she said it’s normal for a child who’s gone through a traumatic experience such as this to experience temporary memory loss. If her recovery goes well, she should start to remember.”

  “We’d love to speak with her now, seeing as we made some progress yesterday.”

  Just then a woman in her fifties wearing a light-colored, paisley skirt with a white blouse appeared. She had long, brown hair streaked with white and kept it pulled back into a braided ponytail that hung just past the middle of her back. Her face was makeup-free but carried a kind smile.

  “Welcome. My name is Miranda Massey,” she said in a calming voice. “I’m the director here.” She clasped her hands and bowed slightly.

  “I’m Agent Kane. This is my partner Agent Kang.”

  “My, my, my. You look exactly like our new guest.”

  “Yes, she’s my doppelganger, or I’m hers, depending on how you want to look at it.”

  “Agent Kane just finished informing me that she made headway with the girl yesterday via head gestures,” Rosales said.

  Massey’s eyebrows shot upward. “Now that’s a positive thing to hear. The healing has begun. I imagine you want to speak with her now.”

  “Yes, if that’s okay.”

  “Sure. Follow me.”

  She led us through a doorway and down a hall. A wooden floorboard squeaked beneath my step. We passed a room where a few young women were watching TV.

  “She’s staying in a room with four other children, but I’ll pull her out so you can conduct your questioning in my office, away from the other residents.” Massey pointed at a door. “That’s my office. Make yourselves comfortable.”

  Kang, Rosales, and I waited in her office.

  “How long will the shelter care for her?” I asked.

  “Usually it’s a week to two weeks. Enough time for us to find a placement in a foster home or the parents show up and claim her. Is SFPD still involved?”

  “I’m afraid not. They’re not recommending criminal charges be filed. As far as they’re concerned, she’s the responsibility of CPS.”

  “Figures. Easier to dish her off to us.”

  “If the parents show up, what are the odds the state will release her into their custody?”

  “Depends. I’ll interview them and make a visit to the home. The courts will receive my write-up. Really it’s up to the judge.”

  Just then, Massey appeared with Suitcase Girl. She kept her head tilted down as she walked, and her hair fell forward, covering most of her face.

  “Hello,” I said.

  She must have remembered my voice because she looked up immediately and smiled.

  “Now that’s the first smile I’ve seen on her face,” Rosales said.

  I held out my hand. She grabbed hold of it, and I led her over to a chair, where she sat. I bent down so we were looking at each other eye to eye.

  “Do you remember me?”

  She nodded. It was subtle but clear she was communicating.

  “Can you tell me your name?”

  Her smiled disappeared, and she looked away, shaking her head.

  “You don’t remember your name?”

  She looked at me and then back at the floor.

  “It’s okay.” I gently rubbed her arm
. “It may take a few days for you to remember. Do you remember where you live?”

  She shook her head no.

  “What about the name of your mom and dad, can you tell me that?”

  A frown grew on her face.

  “It’s okay, sweetie, if you can’t remember. It’s perfectly all right.”

  I looked up at Massey.

  “There’s a connection between the two of you,” she said. “That’s a positive, but she probably needs more time. Usually in cases like this, if family members are involved, we ask them to visit often, to spend time with the child.”

  “So spending more time with me would help her remember faster?”

  “Yes, it would actually.”

  I turned to Rosales. “Is it possible for me to house her for a couple days, to see if it works? I have the room. I have two children, ages eleven and eight.”

  “Oh, well, hmmm, you’re not the first law enforcement person to make that request. I would have to visit your home.” She turned to Massey. “Any objections to Agent Kane housing her?”

  “Absolutely not. I think it’s a wonderful idea.” She looked me straight in the eyes. “Your intentions seem very genuine to me. This can only help the child.”

  “How soon can I take her?” I asked Rosales.

  “Paperwork doesn’t take that long to draft. I could drop her off later this evening and inspect the home at the same time.”

  “Perfect.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kang waited until we were out on the sidewalk to ask his question. “You sure you want to house the girl?”

  “Why not? If it helps open her up, it’ll help with the investigation.”

  We hopped back inside the SUV and drove off.

  “I think it’s great what you’re doing, but we have yet to officially take over. We need to get Reilly on board, preferably before this investigation escalates.”

  I dialed Reilly and then switched to speakerphone.

  “Reilly speaking”

  “It’s Kane and Kang. We’ve got a lead on a missing-persons case from SFPD, a little girl, age twelve. We’ve already established that she was most likely brought over state lines, so it could be a case of abduction. We’d like two days to investigate our hunch.”

  “How did you guys get a handle on this?”

  “The girl was actually left abandoned outside our offices early yesterday morning. One of the FPS officers found her stuffed inside a suitcase.”

  “What’s SFPD’s position on this?”

  “Neglect/abandonment. They’re not moving ahead with criminal charges. CPS is already involved. We’re on our way to Central Station now to talk to the detectives involved.”

  “Two days, not a minute longer.”

  The line went dead.

  “That was easy,” Kang said.

  “I told you Reilly was a fair man. We made a case, and it’s only two days.”

  “Let’s hope housing her works in our favor,” he said.

  “It’s got to be better than staying at a shelter. Plus, she’ll eat well. You know Po Po; she never turns down an opportunity to show off her culinary skills.”

  “She’s a magician in the kitchen. Speaking of food.”

  Kang made a hard left off of Columbus Avenue, and we drove toward our favorite dim sum shop in Chinatown. We picked up a mixture of delicacies; of course we both snuck a pork dumpling before entering the precinct.

  “We bring gifts,” I said as we walked toward Sokolov’s desk.

  “Abby, Kyle, what a wonderful greeting,” he said as he took the box from my hands and placed it on his desk. “This is Detective Adrian Bennie.”

  “I’ve heard a lot about you two,” Bennie said as he stood and extended his arm.

  “What? You’re listening to this big guy?” I said, motioning to Sokolov with my thumb.

  “Sit. Sit.” Sokolov gestured to a couple of chairs.

  We all sat and then dug into the box.

  “So why the gracious gift of food?” Sokolov asked in between chews.

  “We needed to eat, and we also needed to talk to you about Suitcase Girl,” Kang said.

  “Is that what you’ve dubbed her over at the Bureau?”

  “Not officially; it just made it easier to refer to her that way since we have no name.”

  “So the FBI is picking up the case?” Bennie asked before taking a large bite from a pork bao.

  “We were able to pry some information from her during our visit at the hospital. From what we can tell, it’s highly likely she was brought across state lines.”

  “Highly likely?” Bennie repeated.

  I told them how our conversation took place and the connection Suitcase Girl had with me.

  “Our supervisor has given us two days to dig around. To help expedite, I’m also housing her for those two days. She’s my responsibility come tonight.”

  “From abandonment to abduction just like that,” Bennie said. “My question now is why then stuff her in a piece of luggage and leave her on the doorstep of the largest law enforcement agency in this county?”

  I shrugged. “I know, it doesn’t quite track, but I think if we spend time poking around, we’ll be able to answer that question.”

  “It’s that damn suitcase,” Kang said. “It has a way of throwing off every theory.”

  “The man that left her might have intended for her to be found dead,” Sokolov reminded us.

  “If that’s the case, the suitcase could be a symbolic way to say goodbye,” I said. “A father loses custody of the child. Kidnaps her. Realizes he won’t ever be able to keep her. Starts to think if he can’t have her, then no one can. Vengeance possibly?”

  “A way to hurt his ex?” Bennie added.

  Heads nodded as we mulled.

  Sokolov broke the silence. “I appreciate the follow-up. You know the suitcase never sat well with me. But you understand, our hands…” He crossed his wrists in an X formation.

  “Well, don’t hold your breath. Depending on where this leads, there may be a task force on the horizon.” I smiled.

  Bennie handed a file to Kang. “That’s everything we have. The suitcase is in the evidence locker. You can sign for it on the way out. The rape kit is at our crime lab, but you might want to have it transferred to your guys.”

  Kang and I both stood. “It’s been fun, but we’ve got work to do.”

  “You’ll keep us posted?” Sokolov inquired. His stare softened. He was genuinely interested in the case.

  I popped one last dumpling into my mouth before delivering a wink and walking away.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was six in the evening when the doorbell rang. Exactly on cue, Lucy stopped setting the dinner table and sprinted toward the front door. Ever since she discovered that some people visit for the sole reason to sell us food, whether it be for a charity or a fundraiser, she wanted to be the one to answer the door and give her opinion first on whether to buy.

  But I knew this wasn’t the reason she had run to the door.

  I had already prepped the family that we would have a guest staying with us. Lucy was excited because curiosity was her nature. Ryan thought it would be cool to have someone around the same age as he. Po Po, as I suspected, quickly changed parts of the menu that night to impress the new mouth.

  “Hello,” Lucy said, holding the door open.

  I had already told her before never to blindly open the door. We were still working on that bad habit.

  Rosales smiled and waved. “Hi. I hope we didn’t come at a bad time,” she said.

  Suitcase Girl stood next to her, holding a paper grocery bag against her chest with both arms.

  “No, don’t be silly.” I opened the door wider. “Come inside. We were just getting ready for dinner. You’re welcome to join us, Christine.”

  “As lovely as it smells from here, I’m already late for dinner at my own home.” She smiled warmly.

  “Well, then. Let’s hurry this along so you
can get out of here.”

  “Lucy, why don’t you go back in the kitchen and see if Po Po needs help?”

  Rosales stepped inside with the girl. “Could you show me where she will be sleeping?”

  “Yes, of course. We have a guestroom on the first floor. My mother in-law’s room is next to it.”

  I led her down the hall. I was about to stop and make the introductions when I suddenly realized I didn’t know the girl’s actual name, and I wasn’t about to introduce her as Suitcase Girl. So I continued past the kitchen and on to the guestroom. Once out of earshot of Po Po and Lucy, I whispered to Rosales if she or the shelter had given her a name.

  “In my records, she’s Jane Doe plus her case number. The shelter on the other hand refers to her as Jane.”

  “Does she respond to the name?”

  “You know, I’m not sure. I always call the girls with no known name by ‘Sweetie,’ and if it’s a boy, ‘Tiger.’ They seem to like that.”

  I opened the door to the bedroom. It was fairly basic: a full-size bed, a small dresser, and a bedside table with a lamp on it. There were some framed paintings of Chinese landscapes hanging on the wall, but that was about it for décor. Lucy had placed her favorite stuffed animal on the bed for Suitcase Girl—a panda she had named Dim Sum.

  “This will be your new home for the next couple of days,” Rosales said.

  The girl stood quietly at the threshold. I placed a hand gently against her back and ushered her forward. “Do you like it?”

  She looked up at me and smiled.

  Rosales said, “The shelter provided her with a few items of clothing and toiletries. That’s what’s in the bag.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, maybe I’ll take her shopping for more clothes.”

  After a quick tour of the house, Rosales removed paperwork from her handbag. “I’ll need you to fill in the contact information and answer these questions, and then sign here and here. I prepared most of it in anticipation of me finding the place suitable.

  It took about ten minutes for me to fill out the paperwork.

  “Here’s my card in case you need to reach me. I’ll touch base later, and we can arrange a time for me to pick her up two days from now.”

 

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