by Brian Shea
“We’re pushing the clock on this one.” Kelly held up the paper. “And this is our best chance on finding the killer, or at least getting a few girls out before it’s too late.”
“Saving a life trumps scene preservation every day of the week in my book.”
“I’m not going to be able to stick around with you on this scene. We’ve got to find ADA Watson and round up a search warrant.”
“At least it’s not warm enough for golf, so you shouldn’t have too much trouble.” Charles surveyed the scene. “I’ve got it. I’ll call if anything pops.”
“Here’s your first piece of evidence. I removed it from the front right jacket pocket. Photographed it before removal.”
Charles ditched his cigarette and gloved up. He retrieved a clear plastic evidence bag and held it open as Kelly slid in the document. Sealing it, the senior evidence technician placed it into an open box in the back of the van. “What are you waiting for? Looks like you got some bad guys to visit.”
Kelly and Barnes headed back to the Impala. His phone was already on its third ring when he entered the car.
“Detective Kelly, to what do I owe this wonderful Saturday morning call?” Assistant District Attorney Chris Watson asked in his most sarcastic tone.
“Got another body. Same place as the girl’s.”
“Oh man.”
“This one came bearing gifts.”
“How’s that?”
“Where can I meet you? We may have a lead on the killer, but equally important, the location of some girls in need of our help.”
“I’m actually heading into the office now to finish up some unrelated case work. Let’s say half hour.”
“We’ll see you soon. You might want to get a judge on the hook because we’re going to be using tactical on this.”
Kelly hung up. He drove out of the lot, leaving Charles on scene as he and Barnes prepared for the next phase. He saw the focused intensity in her emerald green eyes, a chance to get even obviously on her mind.
28
“All right. Gather around. Detective Kelly is going to fill us in on today’s target, followed by Captain Lyons, who will brief SWAT’s entry plan.” Sutherland commanded the attention of the room. The tactical briefing area occupied a large conference room down the hallway from Homicide. It was designed to accommodate twenty normally dressed people comfortably, but the bulk and size of the men assigned to the BPD Tactical Unit had made the room feel small and cramped.
Kelly stood in front, with a projected screen behind him. The image was of the gray, three-family colonial. “Thank you all for being here today. This target location may house the killer of Faith Wilson. For those who don’t know, her body was found earlier this week, buried in a shallow grave. Faith was thirteen. The person or people responsible for her death are believed to be housing young girls, like Faith, in this house. We’ve got Anderson and Collette with eyes on the house right now. There’s been limited movement in or out since they’ve posted up.”
Kelly clicked the mouse on the computer nearest him and the image on the screen changed. The projected image of a young girl. She was almost the spitting image of Faith. “This is Tabitha Porter. She’s believed to be located within this residence. She’s a runaway, but listed by SAU as a possible trafficking victim. You should expect to encounter several girls like Tabitha while inside. Depending on how long these girls have been living under these conditions, they may not react as expected. In fact, they may even provide resistance to our efforts. Please keep in mind that these girls have been through months, even years, of abuse.”
Barnes gave a supportive nod. Kelly took a moment to scan the group. His eyes locked on Lyons. He hadn’t spoken to the tactical commander since giving his deposition the previous morning. Kelly wasn’t able to read his expression then, and he couldn’t do it now. “We don’t really know much about this group, but we’re pretty confident they’re responsible for Detective Barnes’s abduction. So, with that in mind, they obviously have little regard for law enforcement. If there are no questions for me, I’m going to turn it over to Captain Lyons.”
Darren Lyons pushed off the back wall and walked forward. Kelly nodded to his former SWAT commander as he passed.
Lyons was a man comfortable leading others in combat situations. He’d served eight years as an infantry officer in the Army before joining the ranks of the Boston Police Department. Lyons was a man not known to brag and, unlike many of the veterans and cops who frequented Shep’s Pub, he never told war stories. When Kelly had served under him as an operator on the BPD Special Weapons and Tactics team, Lyons let his actions speak for him.
“We’re dealing with a lot of unknowns on this one. As of right now, we’re not exactly sure who is running the house, or what type of resistance we’ll face once inside. Looking at the schematics for the residence, the layout dictates the best entry point is going to be to the rear. We’ll have an alternative entry team set on the front should we get bogged down or run into difficulty accessing the rear door. The records for the residence indicate a single person owns all three floors of the triple-decker. Be prepared to encounter threats on every level of the house.”
Lyons turned off the projector and grabbed a dry-erase marker. He penned a crude representation of the house as if looking down from a bird’s-eye view. Lyons used a green marker and made an X near the front door. He marked the rear with a red X. “Alpha Team, you’re going to come in off Sawyer Ave. Stay tight to this house, use the backyard for maximum concealment on approach to the target location. Once on the west side of the house, you’re going to be exposed when crossing over Downer Ave. Haul ass to the rear lot of the target house. I’m hoping they don’t have security cameras, but we have to assume they will. Get on that back door as fast as possible. Radio when in position. As soon as you give the notification, Bravo is going to pull the raid van right up front. I want them to think the heavy hit’s coming from the front door. Bravo is going to flashbang under these two windows. Alpha, when you hear the bang, that will be your cue to breach. Once inside, and the first floor is clear, I want Bravo to enter and assist in clearing the rest of the house.”
Kelly watched the team intently follow the plan laid out by their leader. He knew most of the tactical members. The Baxter Green case had complicated his relationship with the group. The scrutiny the tactical unit had faced over the following year had driven some resentment and anger his way. Some blamed him for the situation breaking bad. Others were just frustrated with the situation being dragged out in civil court and the scrutiny the team had faced. The sniper who’d taken the shot medically retired shortly after the incident. Kelly shouldered the weight of all of it.
“The close perimeter will be held by Charlie Team. This is also where Detectives Kelly and Barnes will be staged. The intersection will be shut down by assisting members of the patrol division. The CCP will be staged with command.”
Barnes leaned in and whispered in Kelly’s ear. “What’s a CCP?”
“Casualty Collection Point. It’s a hand-me-down from the military, but it is always good to note where wounded or dead are to be brought. Reduces the chaos of the moment if it’s predesignated.” Kelly saw worry on Barnes’s face. “I’m hoping it won’t be needed for that. Most likely it will become a short-term processing station for any of the girls located inside.”
Lyons continued for a brief block, ensuring each member of the unit knew their specific team assignment for the operation and their individual role. He ended with his post-briefing mantra. “Watch your muzzles and know your targets.”
The group was dismissed to gear up and given fifteen minutes to be ready to go. As the room cleared out, Kelly saw Lyons approach. The tactical commander stood in front of him. He looked at Barnes. “Can you give Mike and me a minute?”
“Sure thing.”
The last few members of the team ambled out of the room, and Kelly was left alone with Lyons. Again, without success, he attempted to read the face
of the man standing before him.
“I never got a chance to talk to you after your deposition yesterday.”
“I cut out pretty quickly. This case has been at the forefront.”
“Listen, Mike, I know this past year has been brutal on you. Same for my team. What you said yesterday meant a lot to the guys. Not many people I know would’ve got up on that stand and stood their ground the way you did. For what it’s worth, you’re a hell of a cop.”
Kelly was at a loss for words. All he could muster was, “Thanks.”
Lyons gave Kelly a firm pat on the shoulder and stepped out of the room. Silence surrounded him, and a small piece of Baxter Green became unshouldered.
29
The cold weather kept the foot traffic to a minimum. The tactical element was a block away in a stacked column of vehicles, each ready to deploy to their designated position on command. Detectives Anderson and Collette were still posted a few houses down from the target location, where they had been for the past two hours. There hadn’t been any movement in twelve minutes since a heavyset man had stepped out on the front porch. He smoked two cigarettes and then retreated inside. The sun had gone down, and a streetlight across the street provided the only source of light, minus whatever cast from neighboring windows and porches.
“So, this is what you did for the better part of two years?” Barnes asked, breaking the silence.
“Pretty much. They’re a good team, with an equal amount of macho bravado and analytic stratagem.”
“Must’ve been fun.”
“I’m not going to lie; it was one hell of a time. Any job where you get to smash a drug dealer’s house, or face off with a wanted murderer, is good for an insane adrenalin dump.”
“But you left it?”
“I did. I hit a point where I thought I could do more good elsewhere.” Kelly paused for a moment. Conversations like this always brought forth the memory of Baxter Green. “And here I am now.”
“I think Homicide suits you.”
Kelly looked over at Barnes. “Yeah?”
“You care.”
“I do. There’s something about giving the dead their voice back. Helping them find justice regardless of the circumstance that put them in the hole has proven rewarding thus far.” Kelly shrugged. “Check back with me in a year and see if I still feel the same way.”
The radio in Barnes’s car squawked and Lyons’s voice filled the air. “The op is a go. I repeat. It’s a go.”
The brake lights of the idling vehicles released and a steady stream of vans, unmarked and marked cruisers, and an armored personnel carrier turned from Cushing Ave onto Sawyer’s one-way loop. No headlights or emergency lights illuminated the approach. The progression was slow, the vehicles minimizing the roar of the engines. Each vehicle began to separate from the pack as they came to their designated stop position. Looking out the passenger side window, he could see the column of dark-uniformed members of the tactical team deploy at a quick pace on foot. They disappeared out of sight around the corner, heading to their post on the rear door of the gray house. Kelly knew the quiet of the neighborhood was about to be shattered.
There’s always a strange calm in the moments before a tactical operation commences. A hushed silence seemed to fall, as if even the air stopped moving in anticipation. Kelly had felt it before, and he felt it now.
The stillness gave way to the concussive blasts of the two flashbangs deployed to the front porch windows. The explosions were followed by the loud thud of the breacher’s ram’s devastating impact against the rear door. Standing at the close perimeter, Kelly followed the entry team’s progression through the first floor of the house by listening to the loud but muffled commands as they encountered people within.
“First floor clear. Two in custody. Moving up to the second,” the team member relayed.
The front door opened, and the secondary team disappeared inside. Kelly wanted to be in there with them but knew his place in the operation. He looked over at Barnes and could tell she was feeling the same thing.
Kelly heard muffled commands but could no longer discern the words. The team had been inside the residence for less than a minute, but standing on the outside, time seemed to be moving in slow motion.
“Second and third are clear. Five. We’ve located five girls. Bringing them out shortly. Secondary search underway.”
Kelly turned back to Lyons, who was standing by his makeshift command center—his black Explorer, the armored personnel carrier, and two ambulances. Lyons gave him a thumbs up.
“I hope one of them is Tabitha Porter,” Barnes said.
“We’ll know soon enough.” Kelly couldn’t have timed his words better.
The front door of the triple-decker house opened, and he heard one of the operators announce, “One walking.” This was done to alert law enforcement on the perimeter each time somebody was escorted out. In high stress situations, like a tactical entry, it minimized the potential for friendly fire.
One by one the five rescued girls began to trickle out. Marked cruisers were assigned to transport the girls directly to headquarters so that they could be debriefed. Kelly and Barnes scanned each face as they passed. Four girls had come out but no Tabitha. They shared a worried expression.
The fifth girl came out. Her head was down, and long hair hung over her face. As she was led past Kelly, she tilted her head slightly and he saw the clearly recognizable face of Tabitha Porter. He heard Barnes give an audible sigh of relief.
The last to exit were two men who’d been located inside. These men were handcuffed and looked angry. The large man who’d been seen smoking on the porch before the raid had some bruising to the side of his face. Obviously, he hadn’t immediately complied with the commands. Kelly smiled.
Kelly walked over to Lyons. “Hey Captain, we’re going to head into the station to assist in identifying and debriefing the girls. Anderson and Collette are going to stay here and process the house.”
“Did we find your girl?”
“You did. Thanks for the assist.”
“Any time.”
Kelly turned to Barnes as they walked back to her car. “Five girls. Hopefully, one of them is willing to talk.”
“It’s going to take a bit of effort, depending on how long they’ve been trapped. Tabitha might be our best hope.”
Kelly looked at the time and pulled out his phone.
“Ma, it’s me. I meant to call earlier, but things got a bit crazy.”
“Michael, I understand your job. You don’t need to explain yourself. Embry and I have been enjoying some quality time.”
“Hi, Daddy!” Embry yelled happily in the background.
“Hi, Squiggles. You be good for Nana.”
“When do you think you’ll be home?”
Kelly watched as the girls were slowly driven away from the scene. “Not sure. It’s probably going to be a late night.”
“Well don’t you worry about us. We’ll be here when you’re done.”
“Thanks, Ma. Now don’t keep her up too late. I’ve got to drop her with her mom early for the parade.”
“We’re fine. Go and do your job.”
Kelly hung up. He dropped into the passenger seat. Barnes drove out of the neighborhood and back to Schroeder Plaza where the five girls would be waiting.
SAU had two soft interview rooms set aside for handling victims. The rooms looked more like lounges, adorned with plush couches and coffee tables. The girls had been split into groups and were each given a bag of Doritos and a Sprite while they waited. They were left alone, and a uniform officer stood posted outside the doors.
Kelly and Barnes checked in on them using the video camera positioned in the far corner of each room. Only a couple girls partook in the snacks. A few were asleep. One looked as though she was on the verge of throwing up. One thing was common in both rooms—nobody spoke.
“Tough crowd. How do you want to do this?” Kelly asked.
“Let’s start by ide
ntifying the girls and then we’ll decide the order of interview. Right now, I’m leaning toward starting with the only known we have, which is Tabitha Porter.”
“I’ll follow your lead on this.”
Kelly followed as Barnes entered the first room. Two of the three girls looked up as the door opened, but the third remained slumped against the arm of the chair. “Ladies, I’m Kristen Barnes and this is my partner, Michael Kelly. We’re detectives with Boston PD. We know you’ve been through a lot and we are here to help. To best do that, we are going to need your names. Afterward, we’ll pull you out one at a time so we can speak privately. Does all this make sense?”
Nobody spoke. Only one girl gave the slightest of nods, Tabitha Porter. She shared a loveseat with an older girl, who identified herself as Veronica Ainsley. Kelly noted each name and date of birth in his notepad but let Barnes do all of the talking. Barnes had schooled him on the basics of dealing with this very unique type of victim. Girls sexually assaulted by males were less responsive to male investigators.
The third girl slept, noisily snoring, but still looked to be on the verge of vomiting. Her forehead was soaked in sweat, a sickness most likely brought about from whatever combination of drugs from which she was in withdrawal. Barnes called in a patrol officer and alerted him to the girl’s condition. She was removed, and medics were called.
In the second room, Barnes gave the same speech to the two girls located inside. Each girl reluctantly provided her name. The last girl to speak said her name was Sabrina Green.
They walked out of the room and shut the door behind them. Kelly stared at the name scribbled in his pad. Sabrina Green.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Everything all right?”
“I think that girl in there is Baxter Green’s sister.”
Barnes reared back. “You mean from the hostage situation?”
Kelly nodded.
“Talk about a twist of fate.”
“I think we should stick to the game plan and speak to Tabitha first. Not sure Sabrina is going to be super excited to talk to the man responsible for her brother’s death.”