CA 50.7 Little Girl Lost

by Debra Webb

  Her car crashed through the glass doors and came to a rocking halt.

  When she was sure it was safe to raise her head, she shut off the engine and gingerly made her way out of the car. Bent metal and shattered safety glass lay scattered on the shiny marble floor.

  As soon as she was clear of the mess, she started to run. She burst into the stairwell and bounded up to the second level. She slowed at the door that blocked her path to where the children were housed and schooled, and she realized something else was missing.

  The alarm.

  She had driven through the front doors and the security alarm hadn't sounded.

  She reached for the keypad to enter the code but it didn't work. There were no lights either. Had someone cut the power to the building?

  "Damn it." She fiddled with the handle and the door opened.

  Stunned but not about to question her good fortune, she rushed into the corridor and went in search of the children. She checked the viewing windows of the classrooms that faced the rear parking lot until she found the right one. But the only child in the room was Diamond and she was restrained in a chair and gagged.

  Jenna rushed into the room and started to remove the gag.

  "It's okay, sweetie," she said softly. She wanted to ask where the other children were but she didn't want to upset the girl. With autistic children it was important to remain calm. The disruption to her routine and being restrained would already have made her incredibly upset.

  Those blue eyes, wide with fear and confusion, stared up at Jenna as she removed the gag. "Let me get you loose and we'll go find the other children," she assured her softly. Don't let her see the fear, Jenna.

  The little girl screamed.

  Jenna stepped back, ignored the panic that tightened in her chest.

  "You really are quite the bothersome little bitch," Dr. Hancock said cruelly, his words directed at the little girl.

  Jenna whirled to face him. Diamond stopped screaming and Jenna wondered if it was because her attention had settled on the weapon in the doctor's hand, as hers had done.

  "This entire exercise was utterly pointless," he continued, speaking to the child.

  "What're you doing?" Jenna demanded.

  Hancock flicked a glance in her direction. "What I should have done weeks ago when the little bitch started her rebellion." He leveled the weapon on the child.

  Jenna jumped in front of her. "Why are you doing this?" She wasn't sure how close Paul was, but if he didn't get here soon, they were in big trouble. Hancock had obviously gone over the edge.

  "She can tell you all about it on the way to hell."

  The girl screamed. More screams echoed from the corridor. The other children!

  "You should go while you still can," Jenna urged. "I called the police when I got here and found the gate unsecured and everyone missing. They'll show up any minute now."

  Hancock snickered. "It takes fourteen minutes for the police to get here. By that time you and all these freaks of nature will be dead and the institute will be gone." He made a sweeping motion with his free hand. "Boom. Nothing but bits and pieces left. And I will be gone. The authorities won't know for months who was killed in this tragic attack by a devastated mother who had been wrong one time too many. You saw a photo of Diamond on the internet and you grew obsessed with her. Tsk-tsk, what a horrible thing you've done."

  Jenna wanted to ask why she had been targeted, but there was no time. When he checked his wristwatch she knew the assessment was all too correct.

  "Seven minutes. Time to go." He sighed. "Since I can't trust you to stay put, this — " he shook the weapon at her "—is necessary."

  Jenna stared straight into his eyes. If she was going to die she needed to know one thing. "Is this little girl my daughter?"

  He laughed. "I guess he told you that, didn't he?"

  "Who?" Jenna feigned confusion.

  "The man who recommended you." He tightened his grip on the weapon. "I should never have trusted him. I guess you'll never know if what he told you is the truth."

  Hancock leveled his aim. Jenna braced for the impact of the bullet.

  A blur of movement and then a blast. Jenna blinked, then watched as two bodies rolled on the floor.

  Paul.

  Thank God.

  She quickly pulled the duct tape free from Diamond's wrists and ankles, biting her lip in empathy, until the little girl was free. Then Jenna held out her hand. The child stood and looked from Paul, who had restrained Hancock on the floor, to Jenna. To Jenna's surprise, she reached out and took her hand.

  A new wave of terror hit Jenna in the gut. "Paul! There's a bomb. It's going off in under seven minutes." She relaxed her grip on the child's hand. She didn't want her freaking out.

  "The other children are in a room down the hall," Paul explained in a rush. "Get them out of here. I'll take care of Hancock."

  "Hurry, Paul," Jenna urged as she rushed out of the room, the little girl in tow.

  The other six children stood huddled in the middle of one of the classrooms Jenna had looked into when she'd arrived. Apparently they had been hiding.

  She motioned for them. "Come with me, kids. We have to go outside." If she took them out the back entrance, they wouldn't see her car parked in the front lobby.

  The children stared at her without uttering a word or moving.

  She didn't have time for this, but it was the nature of the beast when it came to autism. "Please," Jenna urged, "we have to hurry."

  No one moved.

  Something Hancock had said to her reverberated in her brain. She turned to the girl at her side. "Will you help me? We have to go now."

  A moment passed and then the child released Jenna's hand. She walked over to the huddle, reached for one of the children's hands and then led the group out of the room.

  Jenna hurried to get ahead of her so she could guide them in the right direction. She glanced back once before exiting the corridor and prayed that Paul would be coming soon. She didn't know how he'd gotten here so fast, but he'd saved their lives.

  Chapter Eight

  Paul shoved Hancock's weapon into his waistband and motioned with his own for the bastard to precede him into the corridor.

  "No sudden moves, Hancock. I don't want to have to leave you in here to watch the fireworks."

  Hancock said nothing. He marched into the corridor, hands held high. Paul nudged him to get him moving a little faster.

  "You'll never know the truth if you turn me over to the authorities." Hancock glanced over his shoulder as they exited the corridor and entered the small waiting area that led to the stairwell and elevator. "Let me go and I'll tell you what you want to know so badly."

  "DNA testing will tell me what I want to know." Paul wasn't cutting this lowlife any slack.

  "But you'll never know the why and the how." He laughed. "The secrets are buried far too deeply for anyone to uncover."

  "We'll see how fast you start talking once you're behind bars." He gestured for Hancock to take the stairs. "They don't like guys like you in prison, Doc. I think you'll find cooperating a far easier challenge to stomach."

  Hancock remained silent as they exited the stairwell on the main lobby level.

  Almost out of here.

  The screech came out of nowhere. An explosion cracked the air.

  Not a bomb, Paul realized at the same time as the feel of hot lead piercing his side registered in his brain.

  He whirled around and fired at the woman preparing to do the same. She hit the marble, more of those ungodly screeches piercing the air as she writhed in pain. He'd gotten her in the shoulder. Her weapon had flown from her hand and spun across the shiny floor.

  Dr. Hancock made a strangled sound before running to the woman. Paul snatched up her gun.

  The woman kept screaming something about two minutes then one minute. The bomb! They were running out of time.

  "Carry her," Paul ordered.

  "This way," Hancock said when Paul w
ould have gone to the front entrance. He'd come in that way. "The rear exit is closer."

  Paul was relatively certain the guy and his woman, who he had figured for Mrs. Hancock, did not want to die, so he followed the two. Jen and the children were in the back parking lot already. Not far enough away from the building. There was no way to know the kind of explosive Hancock had employed.

  "Get back!" Paul waved for them to move.

  The children stared at him and the two hysterical Hancocks.

  Finally, the dark-haired girl turned and started to walk farther away from the building. The other children followed. Paul tried not to be distracted by the girl. They had to move. There was no time for anything else.

  "Hurry!" he shouted.

  Jenna started to run.

  The children did the same.

  Thank God.

  The boom echoed in the air.. .the ground shook.

  Debris rained down on the parking lot. Fortunately they were beyond the primary fallout area. Another boom vibrated the air when the building collapsed in on itself. It would take months if not years to dig through those buried secrets.

  When they reached the farthest side of the parking lot the Hancocks crumpled to the ground.

  "She's bleeding," Dr. Hancock howled. "We need medical assistance!"

  "They're on the way," Jenna said. "The paramedics and the police."

  The ground moved under Paul's feet, and he steadied himself. They were safe now. Jenna rushed over to him. "You okay?"

  He managed a nod that felt disconnected. "We all got out safely. I'm good."

  Paul felt something touch his back, on his left side near his waistband.

  He stared down at the dark-haired girl, who had moved in close to him. She held up her hand. Blood dripped down her palm.

  "Oh, my God, Paul," Jenna cried, "you've been shot."

  The world faded around him. Paul knew he was falling but he couldn't stop the momentum. All he could do was stare into the eyes that were exactly like his.

  ***

  Huntsville Hospital, 4:28 p.m.

  Jenna sat at Paul's bedside.

  "You scared me to death," she scolded.

  Pale-faced, he managed a smile. "Scared myself."

  Though the bullet hadn't done any serious harm, it had taken quite a while in the O.R. to tidy up the damage. Damn the Hancocks.

  True to his word, Hancock had refused to talk. The children had been examined and were in a small ward in the E.R., the only place large enough to keep them all together.

  When the authorities had tried to separate them, the screaming and physical outbursts had begun. Jenna had explained that the oldest, Diamond, would keep the others calm if they were left alone in a quiet place.

  Two FBI agents, one from Birmingham and one from Huntsville, had arrived to look into Jenna's claims about the children's identities. With the institute destroyed there was no way to identify the children. Of course their records at the institute may or may not have reflected their true identities. The employees were being sought. Since Jenna had been there just two days, she knew her coworkers only by their first names, which was of little help.

  Prints had been taken from all the children, but the agents and the local police weren't optimistic. One of the agents had promised to keep Jenna informed if they learned anything at all during the night.

  Jenna wanted to go down to the E.R. and sit with the little girl she believed with all her heart to be her daughter. But the specialist the hospital had called in had insisted it was likely best if the children were allowed to calm down and adjust to the situation. There was no searching for scars or asking questions.

  Jenna understood, but she didn't like it. Until she had proof that Diamond was her child there was nothing she could do.

  Cool fingers closed around hers. "You okay?"

  Jenna nodded and tried to dredge up a smile. Didn't really work. There was one thing she had to do before this situation got any more complicated with legal issues.

  "Thank you for coming." If Paul hadn't been here, she and the children would likely be dead. "You saved our lives."

  He'd already gotten a health inspector ID and was en route when she had called for his help. Those saved minutes had made all the difference.

  "You took pretty good care of me until help arrived," he reminded her. "I'd say we're even."

  Tears welled in her eyes. Whatever had happened in the past, whatever happened now, she would always love this man. She had been wrong to let her need to find her child overtake her life to such a degree that it was unhealthy for her and anyone else close to

  her. She should have stuck with the counseling and conducted her searches in more logical and rational manners.

  "I'm glad you signed the divorce papers." That was something else they had to get straight here and now.

  "You are?" He looked surprised.

  "Yes. You deserve a fresh start." She rubbed at the tears, frustrated that she couldn't do what needed to be done without bawling like a baby. "You deserve better than what you've had to deal with these past few years."

  "There's just one problem."

  Before she could ask what, there was a rap on the door and then it opened. A tall man with blond hair and blue eyes and who looked to be in his early thirties entered the room. He carried a briefcase. Probably a detective or an attorney. Though his casual dress didn't seem to fit either one.

  "Jim." Paul smiled. "You didn't have to come all this way to check up on me."

  The guest reached for Paul's outstretched hand. "I make it a point to ensure my investigators are well taken care of at a time like this." He nodded to Jenna. "Mrs. Thompson, I'm Jim Colby."

  Jenna offered her hand and he gave it a firm shake. "Paul's boss," she surmised. She recalled him mentioning the guy.

  "That would be me." Jim laughed. "But I think I'm more a coordinator of activities than a boss." He placed his briefcase on the chair by the bed and opened it. "A package was delivered to the office at noon today. After reviewing the contents and considering what the two of you had been through down here, I felt it was necessary to hand-deliver this."

  Paul accepted the bulky accordion-type file. "What is it?"

  Jenna wanted very much to know the answer to that, as well. She took the burden from him and deposited it on the tray table.

  "The return address was fictitious, but the name of the sender is one you'll recognize. Reginald Waters."

  Jenna stared at the file. "Will this help us find the truth about these children?"

  Jim nodded. "You'll still need the DNA tests for confirmation, but the girl called Diamond is—if Waters is to be believed—your daughter."

  The bottom dropped out of Jenna's stomach. She had hoped. She had prayed. "Who took her? Waters? But why?"

  "You'll find the entire story in there." He pointed to the thick file. "This Waters was the psychologist for the children. He was brought on board five years ago. The seven children the two of you rescued today have been moved three times to prevent being discovered."

  "He documented why the children were taken?" Paul asked, apparently as stunned as Jenna.

  "He did. He and the Hancocks worked for a research facility funded by a private military organization. Eight years ago the powers that be decided to do an extended study on certain abilities they believed children with autism possess—the ability to break codes and to sense things before other children. This particular study was going to be different from all others before it. They wanted to isolate the children from their families so they would have complete control. Their belief was that parents were too soft to be trusted to do the right thing when it came to the greater good."

  "Waters said," Jenna spoke up, her chest so tight she could scarcely breathe, "that it was the testing that made our daughter a target."

  "Yes," Jim confirmed. "The evidence in the file says the same."

  "Why did he contact Jen?" Paul asked the question on the tip of her tongue. "Change of heart?"
/>
  "Not so much a change of heart, I gathered, as a guilty conscience. Apparently, the girl named Diamond, your daughter, had started to refuse to participate in their trials. She gave them an ultimatum. Bring her mother and father to her or no more cooperation. When she didn't cooperate none of the others did, either. She recognized the power she held and she wielded it to get what she wanted, which was her parents. They tried isolating her, but the others resisted. Hancock wanted to cut their losses and end the entire study."

  Jenna's heart lurched at the idea of what that meant. "What changed his mind?"

  "Waters assured him that it would be very simple to bring you on board and make you a prisoner along with the children. Your presence might even add something to the study, he suggested. He'd looked you up, felt it would be easy to take you out of the mainstream. Hancock went along. But when his wife learned that you were being brought into the study, she ordered Waters terminated. He disappeared and, according to his notes, the Hancocks were planning to take care of you and the children in one big boom and disappear themselves, a plan they had to speed up when they discovered they were about to be outed by the feds. The whole operation was on the verge of imploding."

  "What tipped off the feds and started the investigation?" Paul asked. "Seems as though the operation had worked damn smooth for a lot of years to suddenly unravel now."

  "Waters again. As soon as Diamond challenged those in charge at the institute, Waters knew it was over. He tipped off the feds just to be sure the Hancocks didn't get to disappear and live happily ever after. But he was counting on Jenna not to let the kids down. Waters knew she would find the truth."

  Paul squeezed her hand. "She has never given up."

  Jim gestured to the file. "If you need anything else, any of our resources at all, let me know."

  When Jim Colby had gone, Jenna turned to her husband. "We found Sophie." Happiness bloomed inside her. She felt as if a weight had been lifted from her spirit. Their baby was alive and they had found her!

  "You found her."

  Tears spilled down her cheeks in spite of her best efforts. "She's alive." Thank God. Thank God. Their little girl was alive. Jenna had to call her mother.