by James Hunt
“First of all, I am sorry to hear about your husband and daughter.”
Miriam had managed to hide all signs of anguish before entering the police station.
“Word travels fast,” he continued. “The Snatcher is on the loose and he has your daughter.”
She rocked back in her seat, burying her face in her hands. It took every last fiber of her being to not have a nervous breakdown in front of her former-colleagues and superiors.
Porter studied her sympathetically and cleared his throat. “I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you. That’s why you need to leave it to the professionals.”
Miriam looked up and leaned forward, inquisitively. “What are you talking about?”
Lou decided to cut in. “Let me explain—”
Captain Porter raised a cautionary hand, waving it toward Lou. “No, let me explain. This five-year investigation goes well beyond kidnapping. The Anderson family faces at least twenty other state and federal violations. This is a great win for our department. Phillip Anderson is on the run, yes, but he won’t get far. We’ve got every lawman from Miami to Pensacola looking for him.”
Miriam shot up from her seat, anger rising. “I am not going to rely on the same people who failed to catch a man directly under their nose for five years. Do you think I would gamble the life of my daughter in such a way?”
Detective Lou looked at her nervously. Miriam’s face was flushed. Her heart was racing.
Captain Porter had gotten the message, though it seemed to have little effect. After a sigh, he continued. “I understand your skepticism, and I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now. However, the feds are calling the shots, and your citizen vigilantism, I’m sorry, will only interfere with the investigation.”
Miriam pointed at her old boss with a shaky finger. “No one is going to stop me from trying to get Ana back. I don’t care if it’s the feds or the National Guard!”
“Can I say something?” Lou asked, raising his hand for quiet. Two pairs of eyes locked on him. “Sir. Miriam did find those girls. She’s gotten us to this point, and it’s cost her greatly. This department owes her. We owe her everything.”
Porter scratched his chin and interlocked his hands behind his back. He paced behind his desk in the silence that followed. Miriam wasn’t sure what else to say. She knew what she had to do, and was on a mission—with or without the help of her former colleagues and superiors.
“No one doubts the sacrifices she’s made,” Porter said, speaking almost as though she weren’t in the room. “And no one questions her skills as a police sergeant.” He paused. “But, Miriam, you’re a civilian now, and you need to leave the police work to the police.”
Miriam opened her mouth to speak, but Porter cut her off. “We know all about Phillip’s demands, how he sent you here to ensure the release of his parents. We know that he’s holding the life of your daughter over your head like a bartering tool. That is why it’s important that we do everything right to get your daughter back. To capture this monster, once and for all. And we can’t do that with you running around in the background with your own priorities.”
He paused again to let his words resonate with her—or so he hoped. It was a tough sell. Miriam wasn’t one to wait for others to do the work for her. She wasn’t going to stand on the sidelines while the cabal of local, state, and federal authorities tried to figure things out. It wasn’t their daughter, it was hers. That was what they didn’t understand.
“My advice,” he continued. “Spend time with your family. You parents and other relatives. Allow yourself some time to grieve for Freddy. Give us a couple of days and we’ll get Ana back. We promise.”
She pondered his words. They wanted her to step back and walk away, but why? Whatever the reason, she had no plans of recusing herself. Not for all the lectures in the world. “Reinstate me,” she said.
The captain turned to her, curious. “Excuse me?”
“Put me back on the force, and let’s work together on this.”
He appeared incredulous at the idea. “Miriam, I-I hardly think this is the time. You need to—”
“I need to what?” she asked.
Lou looked on, examining the certificates on the wall and not wanting to get involved in another potential battle of words and wills. Before Porter could respond, someone knocked loudly at his door.
“Who is it?” he responded.
“Agent Nettles, FBI,” a booming voice said. He didn’t wait to be invited in. Instead the knob turned, and he stuck his head inside. He was a clean-cut, square-jawed man with an intense blue-eyed glare and dark hair slicked back. He took one quick look around the room and zeroed in on Miriam.
“Is that her?” he asked, looking at Captain Porter.
“Her? As in…”
“The police sergeant who cracked the case?” he asked.
Porter stalled, not wanting to concede such an assessment. The FBI, it seemed, had plans different from his. “Well, Agent Nettles. There was no one person responsible. It was a joint effort. Detective O’Leary is recovering from wounds in the hospital as we speak.”
Nettles listened, half-interested. He opened the door fully and stepped inside as clamor from the hall entered the office with him. “Yeah, but she’s the one who found the bunker, correct?” He pointed directly at her as Porter conceded the fact.
Porter then looked up and introduced her to Agent Nettles. Miriam turned to him and shook his hand. His tight grip and direct eye contact immediately made her feel better. Perhaps they could work together. Nettles looked outside into the hallway, then slowly closed the door. As he turned around to address them once more, Porter interjected.
“Ms. Castillo was providing service purely in the role of adviser to Detective O’Leary. She, in fact, no longer serves in the capacity of a peace officer.”
“Okay. So we deputize her,” Nettles said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“I don’t think she’s in any state to be assisting an investigation,” Porter said.
“We need her.” Nettles paused, noticing the skepticism on the captain’s face. “The Andersons are lawyering up. If we don’t charge them with something soon—within the next twenty-four hours—they walk.”
“And what does that have to do with her?” Porter asked.
“That’s who they want to speak to,” Nettles said. “Asked for her by name.”
Porter shook his head in utter confusion. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” Nettles said, but he made his point perfectly clear: The FBI wanted Miriam. She had just been given a voice, the chance she wanted. And she wasn’t going to waste a moment.
The captain reluctantly conceded, but decided to add a few facts he wasn’t sure Nettle was aware of. “Her daughter has been kidnapped.”
Nettles looked at her, surprised, as Porter continued. “Kidnapped by a man who claims to be Phillip Anderson.”
“It was Phillip Anderson,” Miriam said.
“Her husband was also murdered,” the captain added.
Nettles gave another surprised look, eyes even wider.
“My husband and I were separated,” she said, looking down. Very little of what had happened had truly sunk in yet. She didn’t want to think about it now. Couldn’t, in fact. To linger on Freddy’s too-recent death would destroy her. She had to keep moving.
The captain waved his hand as if to brush aside the whole idea of deputizing Miriam. “My concern is that Ms. Castillo isn’t in the right state of mind.” He made direct eye contact. “No one should be expected to operate in any capacity after what she’s been through.”
Nettles placed his hands on his hips. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up. His ID badge hung in front of his red tie. “I didn’t know that.” He looked at Miriam with what seemed like real sympathy in his eyes. “I don’t want you to do anything that you’re uncomfortable with.”
“I need to do this,” Miriam said. “Please.”
“Does
that mean that you want to be a cop again?” Lou asked.
She looked at all three men as they waited for her answer. “Whatever it takes.”
All four holding rooms were occupied. Each room had a window that could not be seen through from the other side. The Anderson brothers were separated and placed in three different rooms. Their parents shared the last room and were seated at the table together. Miriam watched them from behind the glass. They were speaking with a slim, wavy-haired man dressed in a suit. His back was turned toward the window and his briefcase rested on the table.
“The Anderson family lawyer,” Nettles said, pointing.
Captain Porter and Lou squeezed into the tight-fitting viewing room, trying to look over Miriam’s shoulder. Nettles pressed a small button on the wall next to them. An intercom above them sounded, allowing them to hear the conversation.
The lawyer was saying: “No one knows where Philip is. He’s on the run. But what we want to do is get you out of here. Secondly, you don’t say anything. I’ll have you out of here before sundown.”
Captain Porter looked at Lou. “That’s all contingent on what we find after the search of their salvage yard.”
“How many properties does the family own?” Miriam asked.
“None,” Lou said. “Phillip owns them all. And there’s twenty of them we know of throughout South Florida.”
“And what efforts have been made to search those properties?” she asked.
No one answered. She turned around. “A helicopter? Something?”
“We’re working on it,” Porter said, not wanting to elaborate any further.
Agent Nettles crossed his arms, watching the couple through the glass. Boone was a large man, over six feet tall, with short white hair and a thin matching beard. His eyes were magnified behind thick glasses, and he looked perpetually upset. He wore a pair of old-fashioned overalls on his large frame. His wife, Judith, was about half his size, with curly gray hair and an equally perturbed expression. The lawyer continued his promise that they would be released soon.
“Is that slime ball going to be present when she speaks to them?” Captain Porter asked Nettles.
Nettles shrugged, not certain. “His plate is full with three other clients, but ultimately it’s up to the lovely couple in there.”
“They did request to speak with her,” Lou added.
Porter shook his head. “Again, I don’t understand. What’s their angle?”
“How much is Philip Anderson worth?” Miriam asked—posing a question of her own.
“He’s believed to have a net worth of three million dollars,” Nettles answered.
Lou nearly gasped. Porter’s eyes widened. Miriam could hardly believe it herself. She turned and patted Lou’s back as he hacked and coughed.
“That psychotic backwoods predator is a millionaire?” Lou said, catching his breath.
“Yes,” Nettles said. “We’re working on freezing his assets.”
“That’s a start,” Porter said.
“He’s not stupid,” Nettles said. “There has been zero activity in his bank and credit accounts.”
Miriam wondered how much the FBI knew about Philip Anderson. She wondered how much they knew about her. With the family lawyer present, it looked like the parents’ release was a foregone conclusion. What did he want with her anyway? Why had she come to Lee County when a fresh crime scene stood waiting at her own house? She pulled her phone out to check for any missed calls—even though her ringer had been fully on. The unlisted number didn’t show.
Nettles knocked and opened the door to the interrogation room. The curly-haired lawyer stopped and turned around, exposing a youthful, clean-shaven face. He looked to be in his early forties. With the amount of wealth Philip Anderson had, Miriam was surprised that an army of lawyers hadn’t descended upon the precinct. She asked Agent Nettles to elaborate on the family’s wealth.
“They all make a decent income, but Phillip is the loaded one,” he said. “The family business and all its wealth belongs to him.”
That one man could have so much power over his family was strange. Whatever the scenario, Miriam could understand his parents’ reluctance to talk.
“Yes?” the lawyer asked from the other room, waiting.
Nettles opened the door and poked his head in, speaking in a moderately sarcastic tone. “All right, your honor, I have Ms. Castillo here as requested.”
The lawyer nodded and grabbed his briefcase. The Andersons stared ahead, stone-like and incongruously indifferent. Nettles stepped aside and let Miriam pass through. She wasn’t sure whom she was supposed to talk to or who had specifically requested her. She wondered about the lawyer. How much did he know? Was he aware of Philip’s whereabouts?
He extended his arm and introduced himself as Michael Kershner, attorney at law. Miriam shook his clammy hand. He had on a gold watch, and his pin-striped suit looked like the real custom-made deal.
Just as soon as he had introduced himself, Kershner picked up his briefcase and excused himself from the room, leaving Miriam looking perplexed and confused. Before he left, he pulled out a chair for her to sit on. Miriam looked at Nettles, who seemed to understand the situation. He left the room as well and closed the door.
She was on her own—though she knew they were being watched. She turned and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She then turned back to the parents. They said nothing, and their faces gave nothing away as they stared at her with two unmistakable frowns. Only Boone moved, taking his wife’s hand in his, and giving her a faint smile.
“You wanted to speak with me?” Miriam said.
Their silence was followed by a tense awkwardness.
“Is there something I can help you with?” she continued.
Judith looked away, but Boone kept his serious eyes on her, not saying a word. Miriam continued with her questions. “Do you know where your son Phillip is?”
Again, they didn’t answer. She felt anger resurfacing and leaned closer to them over the table. “Did you know that he kidnapped my daughter and murdered her father in cold blood? Did you know that?”
Boone cleared his throat but didn’t speak. Miriam could feel tears welling in her eyes. However, the last thing she wanted was to let them see her upset.
“Do you even care?” she asked. Her voice cracked. Their silence got to her, despite her best efforts to stay calm. “How about the children he kidnapped? Do you care about them?”
If that was the case, and they did care, they didn’t show it.
“Then what do you want from me?” she asked, pounding the table. She stopped and took a deep breath, trying to focus on the main goal: securing Ana’s release.
She lowered her head, grimaced, and then whipped her hair back out of her face. “I see your high-priced lawyer is working diligently to release you. And I hope that happens. Just know that if anything happens to my daughter, I’m holding you and your entire family responsible.”
At that moment, her cell phone rang, vibrating in her pocket. She pulled her phone out to see that the unidentified number was finally calling her back. Nervous, she answered, keeping her eyes on the parents.
“Hello?”
“Don’t say anything else. Just nod from now on,” the familiar, distorted voice told her. “Understand?”
She nodded in response.
“Good,” he said as though he were watching. “I know that you’re in a room with my parents now. And I want you to know that my parents are watching every move you make through the duration of this phone call. So that means you don’t speak, you don’t call the others in, you simply listen. Understand?”
She nodded. Phillip chuckled to himself. “It is kind of weird to have a conversation like this. But rest assured, I know your rooms are miked, and I don’t want to take any chances.”
Miriam looked up at his parents. They were watching her like hawks. The entire set-up seemed suspect. Were they all in it together? The lawyer? The parents? The brothers? How far
did the conspiracy go? It would be foolish to let any of them out. But none of it mattered to her as long as she got Ana back. Thoughts of her daughter consumed her. She could sit in silence no longer.
“Please. Let me say one thing.”
“What did I tell you?” the voice growled.
“I need to speak to her. Just one word!”
“Talk again, and I’m hanging up. Got it?”
Miriam nodded as a tear streamed down her cheek. The Anderson parents could see her vulnerability, exactly what she didn’t want them to see.
“Good,” he continued. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Mr. Kershner is going to secure the release of my parents and my brothers. Supervised, of course. I can’t imagine the feds just letting them go. Now that I’ve exalted you to a higher position of authority, you will give these decisions for their release your complete support.”
She resisted the urge to argue. Their supposed deal was for the parents, not for the entire family. Again, she thought of Ana and was ready to embrace whatever scheme he set forth.
“You are not to tell anyone anything I’ve told you over the phone. You play your part, that’s all. Secure their release today and I’ll tell you where you can find Ana.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “So now I want you to nod again for yes so that my parents can see that we’re in agreement.”
She did as she was told. “Good…” he continued. “Oh yes. And one more thing. My family and my lawyer will neither confirm nor deny knowing about any of this. Don’t push them. And remember, there will always be eyes on you.”
With that, he hung up. She held the phone to her ear, ensuring that he was no longer there. Hands trembling, she lowered the phone and put it back in her pocket. She said nothing to the parents as she rose and left the room. Everyone was standing outside the interrogation room, having watched her from the window.
“Well?” Captain Porter said as she walked out.
“What the heck was that all about?” Lou added.