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Together Again (Never Too Late Book 5)

Page 17

by Aiden Bates


  "I think he does." Elias blushed again and looked down. If anything, Pat thought he was luckier than he was, but that was a different issue altogether. "I didn't think that this would happen when I agreed to be part of this team, but I'm so incredibly happy. I want to celebrate in ways I can't even describe."

  "Hopefully your case will wrap up soon, and you can get to your omega leave. How are things looking right now?"

  "Well, they're going from site to site. It's slow, and it's kind of risky, but it is what it is. Once they find the site, we'll move into the reunion phase."

  "Ugh. Well, maybe you can start working to get families ready for that. We don't know which families are going to be reunited, and you don't want to give them false hope, but you might want to start preparing them. At least you can start asking them if they saw that Nixon woman when their kid went missing." Dagmar started to chew on a pen. "Like I said, I'll start scouring for counselors who can be on standby. Give me a call and let me know what's going on, would you?"

  "I'll do that." Elias beamed as he disconnected the video call. He had known, intellectually, that Dagmar would be supportive. He just hadn't internalized it.

  He started reaching out to families right away. He had a script that he liked to follow. It wasn't something that he followed strictly, but something that he used as a guidepost. It made him feel more secure to have something in front of him to keep him on track, instead of letting the conversation veer off into a discussion about who was at fault or what the child might look like now.

  His script wouldn't work for the current situation, not as written. HomeSafe had never faced something like this before. He could use it as a base to build a new script, though. It took him about an hour, and then he called the first parent on his list.

  Asra Randall's parents still lived in Brockton, in the same house they'd lived in when Asra had been snatched out of her aunt's arms seventeen years ago. The case had been the cause of some outrage at the time, especially given what had seemed like a complete lack of police interest in a white woman snatching a black baby. Elias knew, having seen what had happened in so many other cases, that the trail had simply gone cold. No one had known that then, though.

  "Mr. Randall? My name is Elias Salazar. I'm an investigator with HomeSafe. I'm working with the Massachusetts State Police on the case of your daughter's abduction."

  There was dead silence on the other end of the line. Then, in a gruff voice, Randall's voice came back. "Is this some kind of a sick joke?"

  "No, sir. No joke. I know that it seems like no one was doing anything about her disappearance. It seems like no one cared. There may be some truth to that, but the reality is that even a house-to-house search probably wouldn't have found her. There was a woman out there, traumatized and severely disturbed as a result. She fixated on people who had not so great parenting moments in public, and thought that she needed to save those kids from what she went through.

  "It's taken this long, Mr. Randall, to put all of the pieces together. The suspect is disturbed, but she's smart. She's been raising these kids as her own, off the grid and in hiding, all this time. I don't want to give you false hope, sir. She has been spotted with a teenage girl who fits the right age and race for Asra, very recently, but it's impossible to tell for sure until we can get DNA."

  "So, why are you calling me now?" Randall's voice shook. "Why build me up like this?"

  "Two reasons, sir. One is that once we get that DNA from Asra, and the other children with her, we need to have something to compare it to. And the other is so that you can prepare yourself." Elias took a deep breath. "We were able to put the pieces together because some of these kids are sick. One of them died. The body was left where it could be found, and State Police detectives were able to put the pieces together. They're out there right now, closing in on a site."

  "And then I get my baby back." Randall's voice was bitter. "Just like that."

  "Well, probably not." Elias rubbed at his claim scar. It made him feel better.

  "How did I know?" Randall snorted.

  "Well, it's not that easy. For one thing, all of the children who this woman took have been exposed to a highly contagious disease. It's already gotten out once—a little boy who couldn't be vaccinated thanks to an allergy got sick, and he's still in the hospital. So, she'd need to stay in quarantine until the doctors were satisfied that she wasn't sick or contagious." Elias licked his lips. "And for another thing, she doesn't remember you. She's lived with this woman since she was nine months old, sir. All she's going to know is what this woman told her."

  "My God. She's going to think that we're monsters." Elias could barely hear Randall's whisper.

  "My organization is already calling up a team of counselors. They're on standby, just waiting to hear that the children have been found. Our goal, Mr. Randall, is to reunite these children with their families. We just want to minimize their trauma as much as we can."

  Randall gave a heavy sigh. "I don't like it. I mean we had a headstone put up, so we could grieve properly. What else could we do? They told us that she was most likely dead. Now you tell me she might be alive, and all I want to do is tear the state apart with my bare hands until I find her. But you're right. It's going to be hard enough on her, having to learn that everything that woman told her was a lie." He sniffed. "What do you need me to do?"

  Elias smiled. Maybe there would eventually be some happy endings, after all. "To start with, I want you to get yourself and your family ready. It's going to be a marathon, not a sprint. I've been with some kids who've been returned to some families after long-term abductions, and there's sometimes a lot of anger there. Abductors usually tell the kids that their parents gave them away, or didn't want them, or gave them permission for whatever happened. It isn't true, of course, but after a while the child stops believing their memories and starts believing their keeper. That's not their fault. It's normal and natural. Asra is going to have a lot to work through, and so will you.

  "You should maybe start preparing your employer, too. You're going to want to take some time off, once the kids are found. I'll help you find a lawyer, if your employer gives you any trouble. I honestly don't think that there's a bigger justification for family leave than the sudden re-appearance of your daughter, but I'm happy to let the guys who get paid the big bucks hash that out while you go do what matters most."

  Randall digested Elias words. "I have to say, I'm shocked. I don't know how to process what I'm hearing, but I'm going to do what you said. Let me give you my cell phone number. No matter what time it is, or where I am, that phone will be on. It'll even be on in church. I just want to hear about my baby, just as soon as you know anything."

  "I'll do that, sir. I hope I have good news for you soon."

  They hung up, and Elias went down the list of likely candidates. The next child was Jonas Arena, whose parents hadn't been together in the first place. That made two calls he had to make, but that was okay. He could get through them if he tried hard enough.

  He got through five calls before Pat and Ryan got back to headquarters. Their day hadn't been nearly so productive, although Ryan had picked up a case of poison ivy on one leg. Elias caught them up on what he'd been doing, and they both relaxed when he explained it. "Thanks, Elias." Pat grabbed his hand. "Neither of us were looking forward to having those conversations with the parents, you know?"

  Ryan scratched his chin. "I wonder if it wouldn't be a good idea to book a block of rooms at the Sheraton or something, so it's available when they need it. I mean yeah, they're all within the state or mostly within the state, but they shouldn't be on their own at a time like this. And they should have other people in the same situation around them, you know?"

  Elias frowned. "Wouldn't it be better to book the rooms closer to Mass. General? That's where the kids would be treated."

  "Good point." Pat grinned. "You always were the smart one." His eyes shone as he pulled Elias in for a little hug.

  "Oh my God, yo
u two are going to give us all sugar poisoning or something." Ryan pretended to gag. "You're making Tessaro go soft, Elias."

  "I don't think that's the problem he's having, Ryan, but I'm perfectly content for you to go on thinking that." Elias winked at his friend, who sputtered. "I'll book a block of rooms at the Wyndham."

  He got on the phone and took care of the reservations, and then he and Pat got ready to leave the office. Life felt pretty good to him right then, even if the case itself was a nightmare.

  ***

  Life wasn't supposed to be this good.

  Okay, it wasn't perfect. The case was moving slowly as Pat and Ryan explored abandoned site after abandoned site. Pat couldn't understand how there could be so many vacant, derelict, and abandoned spaces in a state that seemed to have paved over every last inch of natural space, but here they were. The pressure to find those missing children increased by the minute, because not only had they been missing for long enough already but they were sick.

  At the same time, Pat had claimed the love of his life. Losing Elias had been the nail in the coffin for Pat, and he'd spent the past ten years thinking that love was simply something that he couldn't expect from anyone. Now, though, Elias was here and he was Pat's. He was always going to be Pat's. Pat couldn't lose him, even if he tried.

  Pat wasn't going to try. Pat was going to make Elias as happy as a man could be.

  That didn't mean that their other problems would just fade away, of course. The Salazar family would lose their mind when they found out, but that was something that they could worry about later. Living in Providence was not a valid long-term solution if Pat was going continue with his job, and Pat had every intention of continuing on with his job.

  They could face these problems together, though. And they would, hand in hand.

  He could not have been prouder of Elias on Wednesday, when Elias had started to reach out to the families and set up facilities for them. Pat had dreaded that task. It wasn't that he couldn't handle distraught relatives. He just always felt out of place, every time he did it. He was better at it than any of the other alphas on the Cold Case squad, except for maybe Langer, but that didn't mean that it was his favorite pastime. He kept wondering what they might be guilty of.

  Elias, on the other hand, didn't have to be that guy. He didn't investigate crimes, per se. He helped to track down missing kids. He wasn't a law enforcement officer. Dealing with families was a part of his job. It was a difficult part. Pat could see that these conversations took a toll on him, but he was good at it.

  On Thursday, they went back out to Granville. They didn't hit the State Forest there, but looked for an abandoned farm in between the State Forest and the town. The buildings on the farm, which had looked just fine from the air, turned out to be too dilapidated to be used now. That didn't mean that they couldn't have been used within the past twenty years, though. As Pat crept through the dusty, moldy remains of an old farmhouse, he found bright plastic toys and a pacifier. Those weren't subtle clues. The house hadn't been used in a while, and the toys were scuffed up and well-used, but there was no doubt in Pat's mind that they had belonged to the missing children.

  If that wasn't sufficient evidence, there were generous fields planted out behind the house. They had raspberries, and they had grapes. They had greens of every sort, from collards and spinach to kale and chard. They had beans, and what looked like beets, and peas and carrots and eggplants. It even looked like they had some cooler-weather plants coming in, like pumpkins and winter squash, and cabbage.

  "This is one hell of an operation," Ryan said, looking out over the field.

  Pat whistled. "Right? It feels kind of creepy. Like some kind of evil clown's going to jump out from behind the beanstalks or something."

  Ryan gave him a funny look. "You have some very strange ideas about rural life, you know that? Plus, you do understand that that's Maine, right?"

  "Is it? I don't go there." Pat grinned at him. "Too many evil clowns, and possessed evil cars, and whatever else."

  Ryan jostled him with his shoulder. "You're hilarious." He called in to headquarters and asked for some folks from the lab. They hadn't found the kids, but the whole area needed to be cordoned off. They'd certainly find some evidence here, even if it was only evidence to fill in some of the past ten years.

  Then they settled in to wait. It would take a while for the crime scene techs to get here, and someone had to keep an eye on the place. Local guys would come and help secure the perimeter, but they were the detectives. They had to keep control of the scene until they could turn it over to the crime scene team.

  "So," Ryan said after a long moment. "You and Elias forever, huh?"

  "Yup." Pat tried not to tense up. Ryan was his friend, at least sort of. He didn't need to be defensive around him.

  "Well, that's good. Now that you've gotten through your issues with one another, I think you'll be good for each other. You've already been good for one another." Ryan leaned back against the car. "I mean you've seemed happier."

  "I am happier. I'm sure I'll screw it up somehow, but I don't want to. I just want to make him happy." Pat sat on the hood of the car. "I feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know? But I don't want to live like that. He's a great guy. I want to give him a good life, and to make him happy. I want to be the guy who can make Elias happy." He stared off over the field. "Hey, what's that?"

  A figure was walking across the field, heading toward the old house. Pat slid off the car and reached into the interior, groping for the binoculars. Once he had them, he peered out over the field again.

  The person walking toward them was a tall, dark-skinned teenage girl, with close-cropped hair and large eyes. She hadn't noticed them yet. Pat handed the binoculars over to Ryan and crouched down. "I'm going after her," he said, and pulled his badge out. He headed over toward the ruined house, which he thought would give him some more cover.

  The girl continued, oblivious, until she got halfway through the field. As she got closer, Pat could hear her voice. She had a beautiful alto voice, lifted up in a hymn of praise. For a second, Pat hated himself. He was going to put this beautiful young girl in fear, and end that lovely hymn. It was for the girl's benefit, but it would still be traumatic to her.

  He held up his badge. "Stop!" he told her. "State Police. I'm not here to hurt you."

  She didn't believe him. She turned on her heel and ran, back in the direction from which she'd come.

  Pat didn't bother cursing. It would just be a waste of his breath. The way the girl ran, he was going to need it. He tore off after her, pushing himself to every limit he had. His feet pounded against the ground, and his lungs screamed for mercy.

  Thankfully, he caught up to her before she could disappear back into the woods. He caught her around her narrow waist and held on, preventing them both from tumbling to the ground. "Stop resisting," he warned her. He held onto her and herded her back toward the car as Ryan jogged up to him. "I don't want to have to hurt you."

  Tears streamed from the girl's eyes, but her chin was set in defiance as she looked up at him. "I don't have time for games," she spat out at him. "They need me!"

  "Who are 'they?'" Ryan slipped his handcuffs onto the girl's wrists. "I don't want to have to do this, but we have to take you in for your own protection."

  "I'm not going anywhere! I'm the only one who can help them." The girl struggled in Pat's arms, but he refused to let her go. "Let me go!"

  "Are you talking about children in the custody of Zavia Nixon?" Pat asked her. He tried to keep his tone as gentle as he could.

  "We're not 'in her custody,' you hairy ape, she's our mother. She adopted us, and now she's sick." The girl struggled again. "She's sick, they're all sick, and I have to bring them food."

  Ryan's face froze, and Pat couldn't help but feel for him. He wasn't going to be able to go home to his little boy tonight. He didn't want to risk exposing him to diphtheria. Pat would give him the key to his own apartment
. It wasn't like he was using the place. "What's your name, miss?" he asked.

  "My name is Merab. Merab Nixon." Merab straightened herself up and held herself up proudly.

  "Okay, ah, Merab." Pat swallowed. "Here's the thing. Your family has a disease. It's a very serious disease. You had a little brother who died from it, right?"

  Merab startled. "How could you know that?"

  "Your mom left the body in Boston. That's how we knew to look for you all. But here's the thing, Merab. That disease, we need to get them medicine if they're going to get well." Pat tried to give her an encouraging smile. "I know you all want to live apart, for whatever reason. And I'm not judging that right now, okay? It's a very serious illness, and it can cause problems for the rest of your life if it doesn't kill you."

 

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