by Matt Lincoln
She looked down at Eddy with absolute adoration.
“Wait,” she suddenly snapped her head up to look at us, her eyes wide with fright. “What’s going to happen to him now? Will he be put up for adoption?”
“Well, it’s still too early to decide anything,” Mrs. Abernathy replied gently.
“I can take him,” she blurted out. “I mean, I can drop out. I’ll get a job. I’ll figure out whatever my mom’s issue is and get her to come around.”
“Slow down for a moment,” Mrs. Abernathy cut her off, though not unkindly. “We’re getting way ahead of ourselves. There’s still a lot that needs to be done, including a criminal investigation. We’re still not entirely sure how he’s even related to you.”
“But he is related to me, right?” she countered. “I mean, look at him.”
She made a great point. Olivia thought that if someone had told her that the pair were actually siblings, she wouldn’t have questioned it.
“I’m going to talk to my mom,” she suddenly declared, the conviction in her voice palpable. “I’m not going to let him just go into the system. I’ll talk to her.”
The rest of the afternoon flew by in a flash, and Christina seemed extremely reluctant to leave as the sun began to set.
“Okay,” she murmured as she leaned down to give Eddy one last hug. “I’ve gotta go now, okay, cutie? I’m going to be back really soon, though. I promise.”
Eddy looked more upset than Olivia had seen him since she’d met the kid. So far, he’d barely shown any sign of emotion at all, but right then, his lips were downturned into a clear frown, and his eyes were watery. He still didn’t cry, however, only nodded his head before turning to play with his toys.
“I’ll talk to my mom,” Christina reiterated her promise as she stood back up to look at Olivia. “I’ll figure out a way to get her to see reason. She might not be too happy with me after, but I’ll get it done.”
There was a fierce look of determination in her eyes. Olivia wasn’t sure what she was planning, but she sincerely hoped that she’d be able to get through to her.
They left the house after that, and Olivia dropped her off back at the FBI office before heading home. It had been a long and emotional day, and she was ready to get some sleep.
It felt as though she had barely closed her eyes when she suddenly heard her phone go off beside her in bed. She could see light streaming through her windows, though, which meant that she’d slept through the night.
She groaned as she reached over to pluck the phone from her nightstand.
“Hello?” she grumbled sourly into the phone, determined to go back to sleep as soon as she finished this call.
“Agent Hastings,” her boss replied, “I just got off the phone with Christina Newark. Her mother is on her way to Miami now.”
“What?!” Olivia exclaimed, all traces of sleep gone instantly.
“Apparently, she’s on a plane to Florida,” he continued without missing a beat. “They’ll be meeting you at the group home. And just so you’re prepared, Ms. Newark warned me that her mother was not in the best mood.”
“Awesome,” Olivia quipped sarcastically. “Okay. I’ll get everything ready and head down there.”
She ended the call and then took a moment to process what had just happened. Honestly, she was a little impressed. Christina obviously hadn’t been messing around when she’d declared that she would convince her mother to change her mind about speaking with us.
“Well, better prepare myself for battle,” Olivia muttered to herself as she got out of bed.
After getting dressed, she decided to head down to Mrs. Abernathy’s place early. This would give them time to get on the same page, and it would also give Olivia an opportunity to chat with Eddy without any other distractions present. To her dismay, though, he didn’t seem all that interested in talking that morning, so in the end, she spent the following three hours chatting and having coffee with Mrs. Abernathy.
“That must be them.” Mrs. Abernathy stood when the doorbell suddenly rang. Olivia watched as she shuffled over to the door to answer it.
For some reason, Olivia felt nervous, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe she was just hoping that everything would turn out well for Eddy, who was the one who really mattered here.
“Hi,” Christina greeted her cheerfully as she walked through the door and into the house. Olivia stood up to greet her and was surprised when the young woman actually pulled her into a tight hug.
“It’s nice to see you again,” Olivia replied.
“Where is he?” Christina asked eagerly as she looked over Olivia’s shoulder.
“He’s right--” she was just about to respond when she suddenly caught sight of a woman standing just behind Christina.
She had the same shade of curly blond hair, though hers was streaked with gray and pulled into a messy bun atop her head. Her eyes, too, were the same icy blue, flanked by fine lines and set into a cold, steely gaze.
“Why don’t I go get him?” Mrs. Abernathy replied softly. “Please, have a seat.”
Christina sat down in exactly the same spot she’d sat yesterday. Her mother took a moment longer and was uncomfortably stiff and rigid as she sat down.
“You must be Barbara,” Olivia greeted her politely. “I’m--”
“I know who you are,” the woman spat bitterly.
“Mom,” Christina snapped quietly.
Barbara opened her mouth as though she wanted to say something more but shut it with a click of her teeth just a moment later. The air between them was extremely tense, and Olivia wondered just what had transpired between them in the past twenty-four hours.
“Okay, we’re coming,” Mrs. Abernathy called as she slowly walked back down the hallway. Olivia knew that she was making the announcement as much for Eddy’s sake as for Christina’s and Barbara’s. The meeting was sure to be an emotional shock for all three of them.
Olivia watched Barbara Newark closely. Even if she maintained her silence, just the way she reacted might tell them a lot.
She stood up the moment Mrs. Abernathy and Eddy rounded the corner out of the hallway and into the living room, only to fall right back down, directly onto her knees.
“Oh!” she let out a noise that was somewhere between a scream and a sob.
“Mom!” Christina gasped as she knelt down to check on her mother, who was now openly sobbing on the ground.
“Mrs. Newark.” Olivia leaned down to address her. “What’s wrong?”
“What is this?” Barbara gasped between sobs. “Is this some kind of trick? Why is this happening?”
“Mom, what the hell are you talking about?” Christina gaped at her.
“He looks just like her,” Barbara cried as she snatched her handbag off the coffee table with shaking hands. She rummaged through it for a moment before pulling out her wallet and slipping a picture from behind her driver’s license. “He looks just like my Allie.”
She held the picture out to Olivia, who took it from her gently. Her eyes went wide as she looked down at it.
It was obviously an old photograph from the age of printed film that had long since been faded by time. The child in the picture, however, was uncannily similar to the little boy standing before her now. It looked as though someone had taken a picture of Eddy himself.
“That’s my little girl, Allison,” Barbara explained as fat tears rolled down her face. “She disappeared almost twenty years ago. Why? Why does he look like her?”
A cold silence fell over the room as the woman finally revealed her dark secret. Olivia looked back and forth between her, the photograph, and the boy.
She had no idea how she was supposed to answer the woman’s question.
7
Ethan
Holm and I headed out to the group home the kid was staying in as soon as Diane had finished briefing us over the details of the case. Well, as many details as she could give us, anyway. Apparently, between the FBI not wanting
to hand over the case and the details being so confusing, to begin with, it wasn’t totally clear just what exactly was going on.
“Just when we’d gotten rid of the FBI, too,” Holm muttered from the passenger seat. “Not that some of them hadn’t turned out to be cool, in the end. It was nice not having to play nice and worry about jurisdiction, though.”
“I hear you,” I sighed.
“Maybe the mom was involved in drug trafficking,” Holm mused aloud. “Got spooked and split when it seemed like things were going wrong?”
“And she just left her kid behind?” I responded incredulously. “Why would she have him with her in the first place if she was running drugs?”
“I dunno.” Holm shrugged. “Why did the Hollands build a whole-ass ship and create a fake journal just to mess with you? People do dumb stuff, especially criminals, and especially when they’re panicking.”
“You’re not wrong,” I replied. It was a bizarre case, and I was itching to get to the scene and figure things out.
“That’s definitely the place,” Holm snickered as we pulled up to the house. Two sleek, black cars with dark tinted windows that just screamed FED were sitting in the driveway.
“No subtlety as usual,” I snorted as I parked and got out. Unlike the FBI, MBLIS preferred to keep a low profile. Very few people had ever even heard of our organization, and we preferred to keep it that way. It made it easier for us to move around and strike undetected.
“Although,” Holm hummed, “there is something kind of respectable about just blatantly announcing your presence like that. Kills any element of surprise, but it’s one hell of a power move.”
“Don’t go joining the FBI on me now, Holm,” I teased as we walked up to the door.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied easily as I knocked.
The door opened almost immediately, and a talk, wiry-haired woman wearing thick glasses greeted us.
“Hi.” I smiled politely at her. “I’m Agent Marston, and this is Agent Holm. We’re with MBLIS.”
“Of course,” she replied as she opened the door wider for us. “I’m Mrs. Abernathy. I was expecting you. Come on in, join the party.”
I could hear voices talking as we stepped inside. Mrs. Abernathy closed the door behind us before leading us further into the small house.
My first impression of the home was that it seemed cozy. The furniture was a little mismatched and worn, but in a way that seemed live-in rather than trashed. There were also photographs and picture frames hung all over the walls. I assumed, judging by the wide range of ages and ethnicities present, that they must be pictures of all the children that had come through here.
Even more evidence indicating the presence of kids were the toys that covered every part of the room. Stuffed animals sat on the couches in place of throw pillows. The bookshelves along one wall, aside from housing a colorful array of books, were also home to various dolls and figurines. Even the floor hadn’t escaped unscathed, as there was a large pile of toys in the center of the living room, all, apparently, for the little boy currently sitting on the floor examining a plastic toy truck.
Aside from the kid, there were four adults sitting in the den. Two of them, judging by their clothes, must have been the FBI agents. I couldn’t immediately discern who the other two might be until I spotted the child sitting between them.
The kid had a dreamy, faraway look in his eyes, and his skin was raw and red. I figured he must be the victim then. The two women flanking him both had the exact same hair and eye color, which meant that they must be some kind of family to him.
“Agent Hastings, Director Evans,” Mrs. Abernathy’s voice broke through the group’s chatter. “These are Agents Marston and Holm. Agents, this is Agent Olivia Hastings. She’s been handling the case up until now. And this is Christina Newark and her mother, Barbara Newark.”
She huffed for breath as she finished the lengthy introduction.
“Nice to meet everyone,” I responded. I noted immediately that the female agent, Olivia, appeared to be glaring daggers at me. She had dark brown hair and eyes that were set into an unimpressed glare. It was an intimidating look, and I wondered if she was the reason MBLIS was squabbling with the FBI over jurisdiction.
“Nice to meet you,” the director said as he stood to shake mine and Holm’s hands. “I was the one who got in contact with your director. When I heard the details of the case, well, it became evident that this might be more complex than we initially thought.”
“Right,” Holm replied. “We heard that you think the kid came here from Turks and Caicos. That would put it under MBLIS jurisdiction.”
I noted as Holm spoke that one of the women, the older one, Barbara, seemed to flinch at his words. That was peculiar.
“Not necessarily,” Agent Hastings spoke up. “As it currently stands, only one of the cases falls within your jurisdiction.”
“Huh?” Holm raised an eyebrow at her. “What do you mean, one of the cases?”
“Why don’t we start from the beginning?” Director Evans suggested. “It would be good to get everyone on the same page before we decide anything.”
“I agree.” I nodded.
“I’ll make some coffee for everyone,” Mrs. Abernathy declared before bustling off to the kitchen.
“I’ll take the floor,” Holm declared before suddenly plopping himself down on the shaggy carpet. I was confused as to what he was doing until I looked up and realized that the only spot free was on the couch, directly next to the hostile Agent Olivia.
She shot me a cold glare, and I silently cursed Holm as I moved forward to take a seat next to her.
She didn’t even try to hide her disdain as she turned to glare at me. I felt goosebumps rise along my arm at her stare. Still, I couldn’t help but notice how nice her perfume smelled, like cotton and vanilla.
“Alright,” Mrs. Abernathy sighed as she handed out an assortment of mismatched mugs before taking a seat on an ottoman in front of one of the armchairs. “Mrs. Newark, I know we’ve already been through this a few times, but would you mind explaining everything one more time to the two gentlemen?”
“I think she’s feeling a little stressed right now,” the younger of the two women immediately piped up.
“No, it’s okay,” the older woman replied softly.
“Mom, don’t push yourself,” the younger one, Christina urged her.
“It’s alright.” Mrs. Newark smiled warmly at her daughter. “They’re here to help. All these years, I’ve hoped for a miracle, and now it seems like it’s finally happening.”
“Okay…” Christina muttered though she seemed reluctant to let her mother continue.
Mrs. Newark took a long, deep breath before continuing.
“Nineteen years ago, my daughter disappeared,” she began quietly. “My husband and I didn’t have a lot of money when we got married. We were young, and I was pregnant, and we decided that we should focus on our daughter, so we never had a honeymoon. Then, the year that she turned five, we got a big promotion at work, so we--”
She stuttered to a halt and bit her lip.
“Mom, it’s okay if you want to stop.” Christina gently rubbed her mother’s back.
“No!” Mrs. Newark croaked as she furiously rubbed tears from her eyes. “No. It’s alright. Just give me a moment.”
The entire room was silent as we waited for her to continue. I could tell, just by looking at her, that remembering this and talking about it was causing her a great deal of pain, and I didn’t want to interrupt.
“We decided we’d finally take a little vacation,” she continued after clearing her throat. “It was the honeymoon we never got to have, except this was even better because we’d have our little girl with us. We spent a few days researching vacation destinations before we settled on Turks and Caicos.”
I exchanged a silent look with Holm but didn’t say anything.
“We bought tickets and flew out the next day.” She smiled bitterly. �
�It was all so last minute and rushed. If only we’d… Anyway, we were on vacation. It was the fourth night, and Allison had fallen asleep. She was only five, she couldn’t stay up very late, especially after spending all day playing at the beach. My husband and I decided to head down to the hotel bar to have a few drinks.”
Her voice had become more distant and robotic as she continued her story, as though she was trying to disassociate herself from what she was saying.
“She was right upstairs in the hotel room,” she muttered weakly. “We… We didn’t even leave the hotel. We were right downstairs in the lobby. The door was locked. I don’t— I don’t understand.”
It didn’t take a genius to figure out what must have happened then. It was clear by the tone of her voice and the way she was struggling to even continue speaking.
“When we went back upstairs, she was gone,” she said flatly. “I thought we’d come into the wrong room at first because she wasn’t in bed where we’d left her. But all our luggage was there. Our money was there. The stupid little souvenirs we’d bought were still there. But she--”
She finally broke down, unable to hold back her tears any longer.
“We spent months looking for her,” she sobbed. “I didn’t want to come back to the US without her. But then we started having issues with our visas, and I found out that I was pregnant with Chris. I didn’t want to give birth there. I couldn’t stand the idea of having a child of mine anywhere near that place. So we came back without her.”
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Newark,” I muttered, unsure what else I could possibly say after hearing such a horrific story.
“But now, Eddy’s here!” she rasped as she ran her fingers through the child’s hair before looking up at me with pleading eyes. “He said that he came here with his mom, on a boat. Turks and Caicos aren’t that far from Miami. He’s her spitting image, and Agent Olivia said they ran DNA tests! He’s related to us, s-so, that means she must be here too, right?”