by Matt Lincoln
“No way,” Junior groaned as he leaned forward to get a glance at what was on the phone.
“I’m afraid so,” Nelson nodded. “That’s not all. There was something electronic inside of them.” He moved to the next picture. “The police aren’t sure what the purpose of the earrings was, though they suspect they might have functioned as bugs or even tracking devices at some point.”
“Let me see,” Fiona mumbled as she stepped forward to examine the image. She shook her head. “I can’t tell with just pictures. I’d have to examine it closer. Did they remove all the earrings?”
“I think so,” Nelson nodded. “Why?”
“Shoot,” Fiona groaned. “Removing them might have damaged them. If they were sending out some kind of audio or tracking signal, it might be impossible to trace now if certain components have been damaged.”
“We need to move quickly, then,” Wallace nodded. “Hills and Patel, head down to the police station. Patel can interview the children to see if they know anything about the earrings. Hills, bring the devices back here as quickly as you can so that Gardner can analyze them. In the meantime, Chapman and Castillo can head down to the hair salon. We need to find out if the supplier is someone who works at or frequents that establishment as soon as possible. Let’s go.”
We sprang into action then as all four of us quickly left the office and headed down to the parking lot. Once there, we split off into two different cars and headed off in separate directions as we each went to complete our tasks.
“You’re going to get yourself killed driving like that,” Patel admonished as I pulled into the police station just nine minutes after leaving the office.
“We don’t have time to waste,” I responded. “I need to get those earrings back to Fiona so she can figure out what they are.”
I stepped out of the car and moved hastily toward the entrance of the police station. A bell mounted above the door rang as I entered, and I looked around impatiently for someone to help us.
“Agent Patel and Agent Hills?” a young, fresh-faced officer in a crisply pressed uniform asked as he poked his head out of a side room.
“That’s us,” I answered.
“Great,” the young officer replied with a smile. “We were waiting for you. The kids are in a conference room at the end of the hall, and we have a small interrogation room set up for you if you need somewhere private to speak with them. The earrings are over in the evidence locker. I just need you to fill out some paperwork, and you’ll be good to go.”
“Thank you,” Patel nodded. “If you could get Agent Hills started with that paperwork and then show me to the conference room, then.”
“Not a problem,” the officer smiled cheerfully as he led us through a different set of doors and into a small office. He gestured at me to sit down before handing me a small stack of papers. “Just get those filled out while I show Agent Patel to the room, and I’ll be right back with the earrings.”
I rolled my eyes as soon as they walked away. I’d always hated all the dull clerical work and pointless bureaucratic crap that came with working in law enforcement. Here we were, trying to return missing kids to their families, and I was getting held up because I had to fill out some dumb papers. I filled them out without really reading them, adding dates and signatures where necessary. It was all just a formality to ensure that the perpetrators wouldn’t be able to call for a mistrial because of one misplaced piece of evidence. I finished just as the officer returned.
“Wow, finished already?” he asked as he handed me a cardboard box wrapped inside a thick plastic bag. “Great. Here’s the evidence. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to contact us.”
“Sure,” I replied simply before walking briskly past him. His chipper attitude seemed so discordant to the situation at hand that it was making me feel uneasy. I knew he was just a young officer trying to be friendly, but I wasn’t in the mood for friendly chatter right now, and I felt relieved as I finally left the station with the box securely under one arm.
I realized as I started the car that Patel wouldn’t have a way back since we drove here together, but I would worry about that later. Right now, I needed to get these earrings to Fiona as soon as I could. The drive back took longer than it should have, all thanks to some idiot in front of me who spent half the drive staring at his phone as he drove. By the time I managed to pass him, I was furious. A small part of me wished I was still a cop just so I could have the pleasure of arresting him for being a moron.
When I finally made it back to the office, I parked the car haphazardly before taking off across the parking lot and into the building. I briefly considered taking the stairs but decided against it. The few seconds I’d save not waiting for the elevator probably wouldn’t be worth it. I was right, as the doors slid open as soon as I pressed the button.
“I have the earrings,” I announced as I walked into the office. Fiona shot up from where she’d been sitting at Junior’s desk and nervously fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater.
“Let me see,” she muttered as she took the box out of the back and lifted the lid. She carefully lifted one of the earrings up to her face to examine it. Wallace and Nelson, who had been standing nearby when I entered, approached and waited for Fiona to give her verdict.
“I think it is a tracking device,” she confirmed before taking off toward her office. We followed her in, and I watched as she carefully removed something from one of the devices and inserted it into something connected to her computer. She quickly typed something into her keyboard, and windows began to open on the monitor.
“It’s disconnected,” she declared as she removed the microchip and replaced it with one from a different earring. I watched as she repeated the process three more times. “They’re all disconnected. Whoever was tracking them must have realized the kids have been removed from their… homes. We were too late.”
I ran a hand down over my face as I left Fiona's office and walked over to my own desk to collapse heavily into my chair.
“Hey, don’t get down on yourself,” Nelson consoled me as he walked up beside me.
“I wasn’t fast enough,” I retorted flatly.
“You don’t know that,” Nelson insisted. “We found the kids two days ago. It’s possible that whoever was tracking them turned the signal off the moment we got them out of that neighborhood. The earrings were probably off before you ever even got to the police station.”
“You’re right,” I sighed as I sat up straight, though I still felt disappointed. This was the best lead we’d had so far. We’d been so close to tracking the signal straight to the supplier, but we’d missed our chance.
I felt my phone vibrate and reached into my pocket to check it. It was a message from Eliza reminding me about Amber’s birthday party that weekend. With everything going on with the new case, I had completely forgotten, and now I felt even worse. Her birthday was actually next Tuesday, but Eliza had decided to have the party the weekend before so that we could celebrate on my day off. With the new case, though, I probably wouldn’t be able to make it, especially if Wallace ended up sending me overseas to the Caribbean.
“Is everything okay?” Nelson asked. “I’m not trying to be nosy, but your whole face fell as soon as you saw that message. Bad news?”
“No,” I answered. “Not bad news. My niece’s birthday party is this weekend.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Nelson smiled. “How old is she turning?”
“Five,” I smiled as I thought about how quickly Amber had changed from a little baby into a kid with such a big personality.
“Fun age,” Nelson nodded. “She’ll be starting school soon, right?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I answered. I actually hadn’t thought about that much. She’d never even been to daycare or preschool since Harry was always more than happy to watch her while Eliza was working, but if she was five now, she’d have to start kindergarten in the fall.
“You don’t sound thrilled about it
,” Nelson laughed.
“I guess I just still see her as a baby sometimes,” I chuckled. “Especially when we’re working a case like this. I can’t even imagine how these kids’ parents must feel. I don’t know what I would do if that happened to Amber.” Just the thought of it made me angry.
“Well, that’s why we need to find them,” Nelson insisted. “So that all of their parents can have them back home, safe and sound.”
He stepped away and walked back toward his office. I thought about what he said and took a few deep breaths to settle my nerves. I knew he was right, but I’d gotten so worked up in my haste to get the stupid things back here to Fiona that it felt all the more disappointing to learn that it had all been in vain.
I glanced down at the time on my computer screen and saw that it was just a little past noon. Maybe going out for a walk to grab some lunch would help calm me down. I stood from my chair and left the office before taking the stairs down. The exercise would help too.
As I walked out of the building and onto the noisy street, I went through all the tactics I’d learned over the years to control my temper. Deep breaths, counting to ten, picturing myself being somewhere else, the works.
The truth was, I’d had anger issues since I was young. In fairness to myself, I’d been kicked out by my own mother when I was just a skinny teenager with nothing but the clothes on my back and no way to fend for myself. I’d been angry at her and then at the world as I got used to living on the street and realized that no one was going to look out for me except me. It hadn’t been until I met Harry that I realized that being so angry all the time wasn’t doing me any good. On the contrary, Harry would always insist that losing my temper and flying off the handle was shortening my lifespan.
I chuckled to myself as I remembered how he used to scold me. Eventually, I’d learned to rein myself in, and I’d found that I really was happier that way. Of course, I’d probably gone a bit too far, since now I tended to be a little too unfeeling and antisocial, but ultimately it was better than being angry all the time, right?
I looked up and realized that my feet had automatically brought me to one of my favorite restaurants on the strip, a little hole in the wall place that served the biggest roast beef sandwiches I’d ever seen. It was kind of an overpriced tourist trap, but it was one of the first places I’d eaten at after arriving in Las Vegas, and the nostalgia element coupled with the fact that the sandwiches were actually really good kept me coming back whenever I had the time.
I pushed the door open and was immediately greeted by the warm and enticing scent of meat.
“Charlie!” the woman at the counter called cheerfully as she waved me inside. “It’s been a while. Where’ve you been?”
“Hey Claudia,” I replied as I stepped up to the counter. “I’ve been busy with work.”
“Ah, I know how that is,” the woman nodded sagely. I couldn’t help but smile at her. I came here so regularly that Claudia knew my name and order by memory, and she always tried chatting me up whenever I came in. At first, I’d been annoyed, thinking she was just trying to butter me up to get me to spend more money, but I’d quickly realized that she was just a really friendly woman. “So it’ll be the regular then? Double roast beef, extra cheese, no onion?”
“You got it,” I nodded.
“Haha, I knew it,” she smirked as she took my card. “So when are you gonna take my daughter Becca out on a date, huh, Charlie? You know you two would make the cutest couple.”
“Mom!” Becca yelled from the kitchen. “Stop being weird!”
I laughed openly. This was a pretty standard routine for us. Becca was Claudia’s only daughter who worked here part-time while she saved up for college.
“I’m only teasing you, honey,” Claudia called back. “But I’m not getting any younger, you know! I’d like to meet some grandchildren before I die!”
“For goodness’ sake,” Becca sighed as she stepped out of the kitchen and plopped a paper to-go bag on the counter in front of me. “Take it and run, Charlie. Before she starts calling wedding venues.”
I snickered as I took the bag and left the small restaurant. I could hear Becca and Claudia playfully barbing each other as the door closed behind me. Their playful back-and-forth had brightened my mood considerably, and I felt less tense as I walked back to the office.
I ate alone at my desk, enjoying the unusually quiet atmosphere in the bullpen. I had just finished my sandwich when I jumped at an unexpected yell from Fiona’s office.
“It’s working!” she screamed, and I bolted out of my chair toward her office.
“What’s working?” I asked.
“The tracking device,” she grinned triumphantly. “I managed to force one back online, and I’m tracing the signal now. In just a few seconds, we’ll have the location of the supplier.”
I held my breath as I watched the program run. I couldn’t tell exactly what was happening, but I could see from the completion bar at the bottom of the screen that it was close to finishing whatever it was doing.
“Wait,” Fiona muttered as the scan was completed and a new window popped up. “This is strange. It says the signal is coming from--”
“Jamaica, I’m guessing,” a voice interjected, and I turned around to find Patel standing in the doorway of Fiona’s office.
“When’d you get here?” I asked as she stepped into Fiona’s office.
“Just now,” huffed. “I hurried back as soon as I was finished speaking with the children. I got a lot of new information that I wanted to share with you all as quickly as possible. Including the fact that most of the children appear to have come here from a small, rural region in southern Jamaica.”
“Yes,” Fiona nodded slowly. “But I was sure that the phone belonged to someone living in the United States. If the supplier wasn’t the one tracking the kids, then…”
“You were right about the supplier,” Patel sighed. “I spoke with the children, and from what they told me, I can conclusively say that we aren’t dealing with a single perpetrator here. The person who was tracking the children isn’t the same supplier that the Weavers were dealing with.”
I felt my blood run cold as I listened to what Patel was saying. It seemed that we now had more than one foe to contend with.
13
Naomi
The officer led me to a large conference room at the back of the police station. I could hear the voices of children even before I opened the door.
“Oh, hello,” a tall woman with dark skin and long thick braids greeted me as I entered the room. “My name is Irie Lawrence. You must be Agent Patel.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I smiled as I shook her hand. As I looked around the room, I noticed that the long conference table had been pushed against the wall and that there were toys and coloring books scattered around the floor as the children ran around and played together. “I’m happy to see that the children don’t seem upset about what’s been going on.”
“Children are stronger than most people think,” Irie replied. “Stronger even than adults are at times. I am here to assist with the case on behalf of social services. I was called in from California since I speak Patois. Once the children saw that I was able to communicate with them, they became much more at ease.”
“That’s good,” I nodded. “After what they’ve been through, they need some comfort and familiarity.”
“I have never seen anything like it,” she frowned. “One of the little girls, Kamya, she said that she had lost her sister. Have you found her?”
“Not yet,” I frowned. “But we will. I won’t rest until we do.”
“Good,” Irie nodded. “Now, you are here about the earrings that were discovered on the children, correct?”
“That’s right,” I answered as Irie gestured for me to sit down. “I was hoping to speak to the children about what they remember of how they got to the United States. They might have seen or heard something important without even realizing it.”
“Okay,” Irie nodded. “Let’s start with Gabrielle. She is the oldest one here. She remembers a lot of what happened to them.” She led me over to the corner of the room where a thin girl with long curly hair was entertaining two of the other children with some kind of story.
“Gabrielle,” Irie called gently. “This is Agent Naomi. She’s one of the people who helped find you. Would it be okay if she talked to you for a moment?”
Gabrielle nodded and said something to the younger children that I didn’t quite catch. There were several dialects of Patois spoken around the Caribbean, and her accent sounded like the kind I’d hear in the southern parts of the country.
“Hello, Gabrielle,” I spoke slowly, hoping that our dialects wouldn’t be too dissimilar for me to understand her. “My name is Naomi. Can you understand me?”
“Yes,” Gabrielle nodded. “I can speak English and French too if you are more comfortable with either of those.”
“Is that right?” I asked in English.
“Yes,” Gabrielle smiled. “I only speak Patois with my grandma and grandpa. At school and with my friends, we mostly speak in English.”
That was a bit peculiar. Kamya and Fatima had both come from impoverished homes where Patois was more commonly spoken than English. In every case we’d seen, the parents had been tricked by the traffickers into believing that their children would be given a better life in the United States. It didn’t fit the trafficker’s MO to abduct a child who was clearly from a wealthier background.
“That’s very impressive, Gabrielle,” I smiled. “Not a lot of people can speak so many languages. Your parents must be very proud of you.”
“I think they are,” she replied sadly. “I haven’t seen them in a long time.”
“We’re going to get you back to them,” I assured her. “But first, do you think you could talk to me about what happened before you got here?”
