by Dana Donovan
He reciprocated with a similar facial expression. “What about Brit?”
“No. I want her here. It’s best if I have a female in the room with me when I interview Kelly.”
“Yeah, yeah, a woman’s touch. I get it.”
“Glad you understand. Besides, the Brewbakers are your friends. I think they’ll be more comfortable downstairs with you?”
“All right. Fine, I said I’ll go.”
Dominic stepped from the elevator, toting a large, kitchen-sized plastic evidence bag and a medium-sized manila envelope filled with Kelly’s belongings. “All finished bagging and tagging,” he said.
Carlos made a gesture of disapproval now that Dominic was back, but I shut him down with a stare. He left without protest and escorted the Brewbakers down to the cafeteria.
I said to Dominic, “Did you get everything?”
He held up the large plastic bag. In it were Kelly’s clothes, as well as other smaller plastic bags marked and dated in red ink. “This is everything she was wearing; pants, shirt, jacket, shoes and what have you, plus some of her personal effects.” He then held up the envelope. “And in here, I’ve isolated some interesting samples.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I was able to collect a few pieces of straw from her pant cuff. Forensics should be able to tell us if they match the samples you and Carlos collected at Haywood’s ranch.”
“Good job.”
“Oh, and I also found this.” He pointed through the layers of plastic in the big bag to what looked like a bus token. “I don’t know if it means anything, but I thought I’d mention it.”
“Okay, I’ll ask Kelly about it.” I turned to Brittany. “Now tell me about her release.”
She glanced across the room at the young girl dressed in a pink hospital gown and slippers. Dominic and I followed her gaze. We saw Kelly sitting on the edge of her bed, staring out the window, seemingly entranced by the late morning sun reflecting off the duck pond outside. She looked smaller in person. Even after seeing her picture, I hadn’t imagined her so small and frail looking. I remember Lionel Brewbaker called her his little Peanut. I guess that nickname fit.
“She’s a brave little girl,” Brittany said, shaking her head faintly. “I was with the Brewbakers when the call came in. Witnesses say she stumbled out of an alleyway, still blindfolded, her hands tied in front of her.”
“Did anyone see her getting dropped off?”
“No. No one saw anything. A shop owner at the end of the alley spotted her after she tripped over a trash can and fell onto the sidewalk. He rushed over to her. After making sure she was all right, he called 911 and well, you know the rest.”
“And the entire time you were with Amanda Brewbakers, did she make any phone calls?”
“Not a one.”
“Anyone call her?”
“No.”
I looked at Dominic. “I’ll check Lionel’s phone records this afternoon,” he said.
Brittany said, “Lionel didn’t call anyone.”
“He could have while he was driving to and from the ransom drop.”
“You think he did?”
“I don’t know. We have to check everything. Let’s talk to Kelly first. See what she has to tell us.”
Brittany walked into the room. I followed. Dominic came in behind me. We approached Kelly from behind, and the first words out of her mouth convinced me that we were dealing with no ordinary nine-year-old.
“Detective Olsen,” she said. “You brought company.” She turned and smiled at us. Her face and hands were still dirty with grease, probably from the van. But that didn’t take away from the shine in her eyes when she spoke. “Detectives Marcella and Spinelli, I presume.”
“That’s right,” I said. “How did you know?”
She gestured toward the window. “I saw your reflection in the glass.” She gave Brittany a nod. “I’ve already met Detective Olsen. She told me that the other two detectives helping my Uncle Carlos find me were very handsome.”
“Did she?” I looked at Dominic. He seemed as genuinely impressed by this spirited little angel as I was. “Well, she’s too kind, isn’t she?”
“Actually,” Brittany said, “I told her only one of you was very handsome. The other, I said, only thought he was.”
The two girls laughed. I told them, “We’ll just let it go at that.” I pointed to the edge of the bed next to Kelly. “Is it okay if I sit down here?”
She scooted over some. “Be my guest.”
“May I ask you some questions?”
“You may,” she said politely. “But I’ve already answered a lot of questions. I’m not sure if I can help you much.”
“That’s okay. Anything you can tell us will be just fine. Now then, I want to start with what happened Saturday afternoon, when you were taken. Do you remember much of that?”
I watched as her expression hardened, so much so, I thought she might freeze up on me. But she didn’t. She let her eyes settle on a spot in the corner that seemed infinitesimally small, perhaps as small as her desire to remember that day at all.
“I went out to get the mail,” she said, and her voice sounded suddenly distant. It’s strange to describe it that way, I know, but that’s what I remember thinking; a distant voice trapped between a hush and a whisper.
“I never made it to the mailbox,” she continued. “I heard footsteps behind me, rushing to me, stomping harder as they came to a stop. I started to turn around. I wanted to look, when someone put a cloth bag over my head.”
“What, like a pillow case?”
“No. It was more like a burlap sack. I could see light and shapes through it, but nothing more.”
I reached for her hand. She let me take it. “Go on, Kelly. What happened next?”
“He picked me up.”
“He? You know it was a man?”
“Oh, yes. He was very strong. He picked me up and carried me under his arm…like a football. He ran to the street and threw me into a van.”
“How do you know it was a van?”
She cocked her head to one side as if to listen, and then made a sweeping motion with her hand from right to left. “I heard the door shut. It was a sliding door like a van has. And I remember the floor. It was metal, cold, it had grooves in it, high and low grooves. It was awfully uncomfortable.”
“Sounds like a work van,” Dominic remarked.
“Was anyone else there, Kelly? Besides the man that took you. Could you tell if anyone else was in the van with you?”
“Oh, yes. Three people.”
“Three?”
“Two men and a lady.”
“How could you be sure?”
“I heard them talking. The man who took me was loud. He always yelled. He was the bad man. He told me that if I tried to remove the hood from my head, he would kill me. That he would….”
She took a staggered breath as if to stifle the urge to cry. I squeezed her hand tighter. Brittany came around and sat on the bed at her other side. She put her arm around Kelly’s tiny shoulder and hugged her gently. “It’s okay,” she said. “We’re here. We won’t let anyone hurt you.”
I could see the worry on Dominic’s face, too. His heart was breaking, and frankly, so was mine. But Kelly proved stronger than any of us could imagine. She shook her head, threw her shoulders back and carried on.
“He said he would snap my neck if I took the hood off. I told him I wouldn’t. The driver told him not to hurt me.”
“The driver? Was that a man?”
“Yes.”
“What else can you tell us about him?”
“He had an accent.”
“What kind of accent? Russian?”
“No.”
“Hispanic?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Did you recognize anyone’s voice?”
“No.”
“Tell us about the woman.”
She gave a little shrug. Brittany’s hand rode up on her shoulder
and down again as if riding an ocean swell. “She spoke softly,” Kelly said, her own voice still barely audible. “Everything she said, she said in whispers.”
I looked at Brittany and then at Dominic. Neither seemed to know what to make of that.
“Why do you suppose she spoke so softly, Kelly? Do you think she was afraid you might recognize her voice?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was she with you the entire time?”
“No. Only for the van ride, and then a few times after that.”
“I want to ask you about the first man again. Did he have an accent?”
“No. He was loud, always yelling. He was a bad man. He scared me.”
“Yes, I’m sure he did. You know, Kelly, I have to say, I think you’re just about the bravest little girl I’ve ever met.”
“Me, too,” said Dominic. “I’m going to have a little girl myself real soon. I only hope she’s half as brave as you are.”
Kelly smiled at that, but her eyes soon found that tiny spot on the floor that seemed to be her anchor to an island of memories that she would rather forget. “They duct taped me,” she said, her tone so matter of fact.
“When?”
“They let the lady out after a few minutes. I heard the sliding door open. That’s when I screamed. Then the door shut. The van took off real fast. I fell over and rolled across the floor right into the bad man’s arms. He pulled the hood up just above my nose and stuck a piece of duct tape over my mouth. He said if I screamed again, he would…..”
She couldn’t bring herself to finish. I gave her hand another gentle squeeze. Brittany rocked her to her body and held her there. “Do you want to stop for now?” I asked. “We could finish this later if you wish.”
Kelly shook her head. “No. I can do this. I want to do this.”
“Good girl. All right then, tell me what happened after they taped your mouth. What happened next?”
“After he covered my mouth, he taped up my hands and feet.” She took a deep breath and let it out hard. “Boy I was crying then,” she said, shaking her head as if unable to believe the ordeal. “He kept telling me to shut up, but I couldn’t. So he let me cry.”
She looked up at Dominic, who was definitely fighting back tears himself, at least inside. His eyes were so wet they sparkled like glass. “It’s not like anyone else could hear me,” she added.
“Kelly,” I said, “do you know where the men took you, how far away it was?”
She shook her head. “No, but it wasn’t far.”
“How far do you think? Was the van ride less than a few minutes?”
“Oh, no. It was much longer. An hour maybe.”
“An hour? You could have been taken miles away in that time.”
She shook her head. “No. We never left town.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We drove in circles.”
“What do you mean?”
“We kept making left turns, never right. And the traffic sounds didn’t change. The cars were always close. And we did a lot of stop and go driving. We never got to highway speeds.”
“That’s remarkably observant of you.”
“Oh, and that railroad crossing on Roosevelt?”
“Yes.”
“We crossed the tracks there fourteen times.”
“Are you sure?”
“I counted. They’re doing road work there, tearing up the sidewalks and everything. Construction crews have a big generator running out there all the time. I heard it every time we drove by.” She shook her head. “No, there’s no mistaking that crossing. We passed by it fourteen times.”
“That’s incredible,” said Dominic. “You are the most amazing little girl I’ve ever known. I don’t think even I would have had the wherewithal to recollect such details under such stressful conditions.”
“I agree,” I said. “You’re truly special, Kelly.”
“It wasn’t much,” she said. “Besides I knew I would come out of it all right.”
“Oh? How so?”
“Well, after they took me to the barn, they––”
“Wait a minute. What barn?”
“I don’t know. That’s what the driver called it. He said we were going to run out of gas if we drove any longer, and that we should get to the barn as soon as possible.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t just someplace they called a barn?”
“Oh, no. It was a barn I could smell the horse manure.”
“You’re positive?”
“Detective, I know horse manure.”
“Did you hear or see any horses?”
“No.”
“I see. Is there anything else you can tell us?”
“The lady.”
“What about her?”
“She was skinny.”
“How do you know that?”
“She gave me a hug just before they let me out of the van. I felt her arms. They were like two sticks.”
“Did you at any time see any of your kidnappers?”
“No.”
“Did you ever think you knew any of them?”
“No.”
“Not even the man with the accent?”
“No.”
“You didn’t think he could be Raul Martinez or Hector Santana?”
“No.”
“Did you ever suspect the other man could have been your riding instructor, Russell Haywood?”
She shook her head slowly. “No.”
“Can you think of anything else?”
“No.”
“All right then. I guess we’re done. You did a good job, Kelly. Thank you.” Brittany and I got up and joined Dominic at the foot of the bed. “Kelly, if you think of anything else you can––”
“Oh, wait. There is something else.”
“What is it?”
“I just remembered. Yesterday morning. The lady with the skinny arms, she came to me and gave me my medicine with juice. I didn’t tell her I took medicine. I thought that was strange.”
“Yes,” I said, exchanging looks with Spinelli and Olson. “Did she say how she knew you needed it?”
“No.”
“Did she say how she got it?”
“No.”
“Okay, thank you again. Let us know if we can get you anything before we leave?”
“You can.”
“What is it?”
“Could you get my daddy for me?”
I smiled. “Of course.” For a brief few moments, I forgot that we had been interviewing a child, a child victim no less. She had conducted herself so admirably; with such maturity that it was easy to forget she was only nine years old. “We’ll send him up right away, darling`.”
Out in the hall, Dominic was rubbing his eyes with his shirtsleeves. I joked with him about getting so teary-eyed, but he blew me off, blaming it on allergies. “But I’ll tell you this,” he said. “If it’s all right with Ursula, I’d like to name my little girl, Kelly. She’s one blessed kid.”
“That she is,” I said. “But I have a strange feeling about her.”
“What do you mean? She’s adorable.”
“Oh, no doubt she’s adorable. But I have this sinking suspicion she’s covering for someone.”
“What do you mean?”
“Okay, first of all we have this benevolent female kidnapper. She’s super kind to Kelly. She knows about Kelly’s medicine and even gets it for her without being told about it.”
“She’s no stranger,” Brittany said.
“Of course not. I don’t think any of her kidnappers were strangers. The question is does she know who’s who and is she hiding that information from us.”
Dominic asked, “Why would she do that?”
“Because she cares for them.”
“Stockholm syndrome?”
“No. Stockholm syndrome generally applies to victims held captive by strangers whose lack of abuse is mistaken for acts of kindness. That’s when the victim develops sympatheti
c feelings for their captors and tries to protect them.”
“Isn’t that what Kelly’s doing?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Sure she is, if she doesn’t know that she knows her kidnappers, then this could be a classic case of Stockholm syndrome.”
“You’re right, if she doesn’t know. But Kelly has an IQ of 140, and her ability to recall specific details borders on phenomenal, as you witnessed in there just moments ago. No, I think she figured out what was going on after the first ten minutes into her ride. Take the man who initially abducted her. She said he had an accent, but wasn’t sure if it was Hispanic or not.”
“So?”
“So, that’s ridiculous. Kelly speaks four languages, including Spanish. Surely she would recognize a Spanish accent when she heard one.”
“You got a point.”
“And what about the barn?”
“What about it?”
“She said she was sure it was a barn because she smelled horse manure.”
“Yes?”
“But no horses?”
“What do you mean?”
“She smelled horse manure, but she didn’t mention hearing any horses. Surely in three days she’d have heard a whinny or snort or something.”
“Why would she lie about smelling horse manure?”
“I’m not saying she is. I’m simply wondering what kind of barn has horse poop and no horses.”
“Maybe some kind of way station for horses, like a trading post.”
“Are there any in town?”
“I can check.”
“Okay, do that.”
“I have a question,” said Brittany.
“Go.”
“Am I the only one thinking that the skinny-armed woman could be Amanda Brewbaker? That would explain so much, wouldn’t it, like why she only talked in whispers, how she knew Kelly needed medicine; how she managed to get Kelly’s medicine. And why just a minute ago Kelly asked us to send her daddy up here. She didn’t ask for her mother.”
“No,” I said, “because Kelly told us the skinny lady gave her a big hug just before they dropped her off in the alley. She couldn’t have done that if she was with you all morning.”
“Kelly could be lying about that part to provide her mother with an alibi.”
Dominic asked, “So what do we do now?”
