by RC Boldt
His eyes, however, don’t appear as defeated as before.
I nod. “You should get back to your mother.”
A hint of confusion clouds his face, but he nods and mumbles a quick, “Thank you.”
When he disappears around the corner, I release a long exhale and pray to the universe that he follows through with what’s on that paper.
BREAKING NEWS
PARENTS ASK FOR HELP IN FINDING SON
Ten-year-old Jacob McConnell has been reported missing from his home in Oswego by his parents, Melanie and Keith Hafnel. Authorities have searched the area surrounding the Hafnel home but found no clues to the boy’s whereabouts.
McConnell recently testified in court alleging that his stepfather was sexually abusing him. A jury found Hafnel not guilty, and many local residents assumed this was an act of defiance against his parents’ rules.
If anyone has information on Jacob’s whereabouts, please contact the local Oswego police department at the number below…
Chapter 17
Kennedy
The headline about Jacob puts me in a good mood because it means he took advantage of the information I gave him that day in the courthouse.
I’d dug into the source behind the Project “Fuck the Pedophiles” and had been stunned to find them legitimate.
They’re funded by anonymous donations that I discovered come from a variety of individuals with various backgrounds—from small-business owners, retired veterans, active-duty military, and single mothers.
I’d wired some funds in a roundabout way so they couldn’t be traced back to me. Knowing they will put this money to good use is all I want.
Jacob’s safe with them now, thank fuck. He’d been quick, getting on his computer and sending an SOS private message to the account I’d given him. Then he climbed out his bedroom window and made his way to one of the local parks.
They’d gotten him out of there within the hour.
I pull up one of the 8chan message boards to see the latest posts.
▶Anonymous 08:41:52 0e32bd No.158058
*PROJECT “FUCK THE PEDOPHILES”*
We’re helping to get these kids out of fucked situations where the courts fail them and they don’t have relatives to take them in who’d keep them safe.
Project FTP has already relocated 213 kids to safe homes since we started six months ago. It’s thanks to all the people out there who refuse to let any child be victimized.
If you’re able to Venmo any amount (link is at the bottom), it goes toward clothing and toiletries for the kids. We all understand if you’re not able to donate, but prayers are always appreciated to help keep these kids safe and to pray for the protection of all children everywhere.
We do this all on our own and have little to no budget to speak of because as you know, we’re not exactly a nonprofit. We do what we can while trying to remain under the radar. We can’t risk anyone finding these kids and putting them back in those dangerous environments.
Stay vigilant, folks. There’s a shit ton of kids out there who still need us. If you see something, speak up and speak loud. You’re the voice for the innocent.
▶Anonymous 10:01:32 cf7508 >>No.158059>>No.158058
Have you heard about some of these pedos committing suicide? I went down a rabbit hole recently and I swear there’s a trend.
▶Anonymous 10:19:26 0e32bd >> No.158060>>No.158059
Message me, cuz I’m telling you there’s somebody out there “suiciding” these fuckers.
▶Anonymous 10:22:37 4b51f7 >> No.158061>>No.158058>>No.158059>>No.158060
Somebody probably just got sick and tired of hearing these stories about assholes raping kids and took justice into their own hands.
▶Anonymous 10:24:52 cf7508 >>No.158059>>No.158061
These fuckers are either offing themselves or somebody’s doing it for them. I’m cool with either one. It’s one less pedo out there preying on kids.
▶Anonymous 10:25:52 cf7508 >>No.158060>>No.158059
Heard some people talking about the Angel of Death visiting these fuckers. You dig into that yet?
I take a sip of my coffee, about to continue scanning through the remaining comments when my cell phone rings. Glancing over at it, I freeze in place, my knuckles gripping my mug in a near-death grip when I see the D.C. area code displayed.
I force myself to shake off the cloud of memories and wait for the call to go to voicemail. Practically staring a hole in my phone when the screen indicates I have a voicemail message, I drag in a deep breath first.
I listen to the message three times before I manage to digest what I’ve heard.
It’s happening. The opening I need to zero in on the elite monsters is finally within my reach.
I wait at least an hour before I return the call. Eagerness won’t paint me in a favorable light.
By the time I end the call, I’ve confirmed my fee and a contract is emailed to me, awaiting my e-signature.
It almost seems too easy, as though it was dropped in my lap like a golden goose, but I know it’s only the beginning. I’ll be responsible for eliminating those guilty of the vilest deeds.
And I’m starting with the mayor of D.C. himself.
Chapter 18
Agent Landon Lattimer
FBI Washington, D.C., Field Office
Child Crimes Division
“Do you have any idea how many goddamn messes I’ve had to clean up because of you?” Director Bennett pinches the bridge of his nose and mutters, “Sonofabitch,” under his breath.
I tip my head to the side and shrug. “My mother always says, me keeping her on her toes helps her stay young.”
He scowls at me, the graying at his temples the only sign of aging.
And, yeah, they’re probably—okay, very likely—due to me.
“Could you, for one damn minute, understand the seriousness here?” he thunders.
“He resisted arrest. If he’d cooperated like a good little pedophile, then he wouldn’t have smashed his face into the fucking drywall.” I say this all with an innocent expression because I don’t feel an ounce of fucking remorse for that asshole’s face getting beaten in.
Bennett pins me with a squinty glare before he mutters another, “Sonofabitch.” Rocking back in his chair, he clenches his jaw. “This is why you can’t keep a goddamn partner.”
“But I get the job done.” I fire a finger pistol at him.
He heaves out a sigh. “Damn you, Lattimer.” He shakes his head and studies me in a way that instantly makes me tense. He’s got a The agency’s about to fuck you over kind of look, and it doesn’t bode well.
I know I don’t necessarily play well with others. I’ve been written up enough times to know it. But it’s a combination of the fact that I have a different MO.
I’m like a starving dog going after a meaty bone because I won’t sleep until I know my investigation is thorough and these kids are safe.
It doesn’t mean other agents don’t care like I do. It just means they don’t have the stamina or drive like me.
“This job is your life, man. I’m not like you.” That came from my last partner, Joe Salina.
Then there was the one before him: Mike Timmons. I swear, he was fresh from the academy and had the babyface to show for it. “Dude, you’ve got to chill. Remember, you win some, you lose some, you know?”
They don’t get it. The only thing standing between these kids and the nasty pedophile fuckers is me. And if I’m on an investigation, I live and breathe that investigation.
It’s not my problem if they can’t keep up.
I know I sound like a dick, but I believe there are two kinds of agents. The first kind call it a day and head back to their homes where everything is safe and sound, and they don’t have to worry about anybody being raped, beaten, and exploited.
And when their head hits that pillow at night, they sleep soundly because they don’t have that component that prods at them. They can detach and leave it all
behind.
I’m not made that way—I’ve never fallen into that category. If someone’s out there breaking the law and doing horrific shit to kids, I won’t rest till they’re cuffed and behind bars.
The office shrink thinks I’ve got some savior complex. Well…I think he’s just diagnosis happy, but I play as nice as I can stomach because he signs off on whether or not I’m fit for duty.
“It’s not the norm, but I’ll need you to forgo having a partner a little while longer.” Bennett winces before picking up a pen and taps it against his desk.
I narrow my eyes because he’s hesitating, buying himself time to deliver whatever news he has for me. “Am I being put on leave?”
It’s not like it hasn’t happened before when some young agent I got saddled with got butt-hurt about me contacting him in the middle of the night when I had a breakthrough in an investigation.
He got pissy because I woke him and his fiancée up. Sure didn’t stop the fucker from basking in all the accolades we got for busting a child trafficking ring, though.
I know Bennett can’t play favorites, and I fully recognize that I get away with some shit because I’ve got an impressive record at putting so many of these bastards away.
His answer comes quickly. “No, you’re not being put on leave.”
“All right…” I say slowly. “How much longer without a partner?” Then I tack on dryly, “Just so I know when to break out my fancy ties and shine my shoes.”
“Simmer down on the sarcasm.” Reaching for a paper, he slides it closer to him. “I got a special request for you, and when I say it’s high profile, that’s putting it lightly.”
I sit forward in the chair, the leather creaking like it always does, my sole attention on my supervisor. “High profile?”
He taps his finger against the thin file on his desk before lacing his fingers and eyeing me hard. “It turns out you know people in high places.
“The Vice President of the United States called in a favor. Pulled some strings.” Bennett lifts his chin, gesturing to me. “Wants you to oversee an investigation.” He holds up a finger as if to stop me from asking the first question that runs through my mind. Why? “Said he trusts you to be objective and get to the bottom of things.”
I mull over his words. The Vice President of the United States requested me? Interesting. Not only can I not say no, but I owe him a huge debt from years ago.
I flick my gaze to the paper on his desk. “Who’s being investigated?”
Bennett’s jaw clenches tight. “It seems the mayor’s been accused of child pornography and sexual abuse of a minor—specifically a thirteen-year-old girl.”
Holy fuck. “And there’s evidence?”
He lifts a shoulder in a half shrug. “Allegedly. Word has it the girl filed a report with police, but it seems to have been…misplaced.” Bennett gives me a look I know too well, especially around D.C.
People with money—the ultra-rich and the politicians alike—have the power to get even the most hard-ass law enforcement officers to sweep things under the rug.
“If that isn’t complicated enough, I got word that the young girl is being represented by Chad Denowitz, and they’re trying to nab Dr. Kennedy Alexandre as a consultant.”
I let out a slow whistle through my teeth and scrub a hand along my jaw. Damn. “They must feel pretty damn confident with what they have.”
I’d have to be living under a rock not to know about Dr. Alexandre and her impressive work in solidifying evidence against pedophiles. I’ve listened to one or two podcast interviews she’s been featured on. Two things stood out to me while listening to her speak. Not only is she intelligent and well-spoken, but her voice is also sexy as fuck.
The latter doesn’t mean much professionally, but it was nice not to have some brainiac drone on and make zero attempt to put things in layman’s terms. She never came off like some stuck-up academic, and that goes a long way in my book.
When I got a wild hair up my ass and looked her up on the Internet, I was surprised as hell. Not that I think smart women can’t be pretty or even beautiful. That’s not it at all. Dr. Alexandre has something about her that sets her apart.
Maybe it’s her no-nonsense confidence, the fact that she’s got one hell of a plea reversal rate, or that she’s working her ass off to put away these motherfuckers like I am. Tough to say, but whatever it is, she’s got it in spades.
To my knowledge, she’s never done any conferences in the D.C. area, but if she had, I sure as hell would’ve made time to attend.
Bennett shrugs. “In this day and age, it’s tough to say whether they have a legitimate investigation or if this is a witch hunt. Regardless, the Vice President emphasized the need for you to go this alone and expressed his confidence that you’d remain unbiased.”
Something about the phrasing strikes me as odd, but I move past it, storing it for later.
He studies me speculatively, steeples his fingers, and taps his fingertips together. “You understand that orders coming from the Vice President of the United States are a big deal.” He arches an eyebrow. “Obviously, I’m curious as to why he’d request you.”
I lean back in my chair and cross an ankle over my knee, using the movement as a delay tactic to choose my words wisely. “When I was younger, I was involved in the Boys and Girls Club, where he volunteered quite a bit.”
Bennett nods slowly. “I see. And you’ll be able to remain unbiased and objective on this investigation?”
“Yes, sir.” I don’t hesitate because it’s the truth. I’m the best at what I do—it’s not ego or posturing. It’s the truth because I’m dedicated to this job. “I’ve never met the mayor or had any prior dealings with him.”
“All right, then.” He hands me a file folder. “These are some details, but you’ll be on special assignment once you leave this office. He said he’d call and speak with you more about this later on this evening.”
He flashes me a stern expression, much like a principal addressing a school kid who got caught sticking chewed gum under his desk. “I’ll expect regular updates. From what the Vice President said, it’ll be up to you to do your part and gain cooperation with Denowitz’s firm.” He gives me a pointed look. “And with Dr. Alexandre once she comes on board, too.”
“You make it sound like that’s a sure thing.”
One edge of his lips turns up. “Call it intuition, but I don’t see how she could turn down the opportunity to work on an investigation of this caliber.”
Chapter 19
Agent Landon Lattimer
I spend the rest of the day doing my homework to prep myself for this investigation. The fact that the press hasn’t gotten wind of it yet has my Spidey senses going haywire. Because in all the years I’ve lived in the D.C. area and worked for the agency, I’ve never come across an investigation this volatile and potentially incriminating that stayed quiet for long.
It isn’t until I unlock my apartment door and step inside that my phone rings. Once I answer, the response is succinct yet polite. “Please hold for the Vice President.”
There’s a momentary pause before the Vice President’s voice booms on the other end and it feels like a blast from the past. “Landon—son! I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“No, sir.” I set my stuff down on my dining room table and head into the living room.
“Now, son.” He chuckles, offering a light reprimand. “Just because I have a different title these days doesn’t mean you have to be so formal.”
“I’ll try my best, but it’s a hard habit to break.”
“I know, son.” The smile is obvious in his voice. “It’s that good, solid upbringing of yours.”
A searing jolt of shame hits me at his mention of my upbringing because it alludes to everything else that happened back then. I clamp my jaw tight and force my mind to stay focused on the conversation.
He clears his throat. “I wanted to speak with you earlier, but my schedule got a little crazy, a
nd things got in the way. It’s a whole lot different than when all I had to worry about were a few meetings here and there, and I’d get to hang out with you kids.”
“Those were good times.”
“That they were.” He pauses, and his tone turns more professional. “I wanted to thank you for agreeing to oversee the investigation. I know it’s unconventional, but your professional expertise is necessary.”
Agreeing to it and being told to do it are two separate things entirely, but I’ve learned enough about politics in my ten years as an agent not to voice this.
“Landon, son, there’s no easy way to say this…” When he trails off, I tense. “I’m under the impression Dr. Kennedy Alexandre may compromise this investigation. We can’t allow an innocent person to be unnecessarily victimized.”
I lower myself onto the couch, sinking into the cushions while I mull over his words. By innocent person, does he mean the young girl? Or the mayor?
Fuck… This conversation is like a labyrinth I’m less than adept at navigating.
“I wouldn’t let that happen, sir.”
“I thought you’d say that. I can always count on you.” Obviously, I said the right thing because he sounds pleased. His voice takes on a somber tone when he adds, “I know you’ve felt indebted to me, son, so do this for me, and hopefully, you’ll call it even?”
I drag a hand down my face at the sudden barrage of weariness. “Yes, sir.” What he said is true. I’ve always felt that way because I wouldn’t be where I am today if it hadn’t been for him.
“Good, good,” he says. “So, you just…stick close to this young lady, now.” He chuckles, and this time, it has an odd quality to it. “Use that charm of yours that garners you so much attention from the ladies.”