by Matt Lincoln
Finally, we made it to Orange Street, which was where I suspected that Charlie would find the most suitable option for a gift. Crafts and toys of every kind could be found sprinkled around the area. We spent about an hour walking around the area and looking through the various stalls. The market was so big that one could spend an entire day combing through it, and it could honestly be a little overwhelming.
Just as I thought that, I glanced over at Charlie and noticed that he appeared to be losing his patience. His gaze was flitting from stall to stall as if he wasn’t sure where to look first. No matter how far we walked, the labyrinth of shops never seemed to end, so I understood his frustration. There was so much to see, and there just wasn’t enough time to see it all in the span of just a few hours. Just as it seemed as though Charlie was about to give up though, I saw his eyes light up.
“These are cute,” he noted as he picked a doll up off of a table.
“All handmade,” the woman sitting behind the stall stated proudly. “They’re made of cloth woven right here in Jamaica.”
“It does look nice,” I agreed. It was a ragdoll made entirely of cloth and wearing a traditional Jamaican dress. It felt squishy and soft to the touch.
“I’ll take it,” Charlie decided a little brusquely. I had a feeling that impatience had something to do with his quick decision, but it really was a nice gift for a little girl. In my opinion, it was worlds better than some ugly plastic key chain or tacky souvenir we would have found at the airport or at one of the stores closer to the center of the city.
The woman happily wrapped the doll up with paper before placing it inside of a bag.
“That will be two-thousand,” she chirped as she handed the bag to Charlie.
I frowned as I watched Charlie count the Jamaican currency before handing it over to the woman. I had a suspicious feeling that she might have overcharged him since two thousand Jamaican dollars came out to a little under fifteen American Dollars. Then again, it had been several years since I was in Jamaica, and I honestly couldn’t say what the going rate for a handmade cloth doll was these days. In any case, Charlie was smiling at the bag, and he looked happier than he had this entire excursion, so I decided not to say anything about it.
“We still have about an hour before we need to head back to the hotel to get ready,” I hummed as we walked away from the stall. “Do you want to get something to eat before then?”
“Really?” Charlie replied as he pulled his own phone out to check the time. “I didn’t realize so much time had already passed.”
“It’s easy to lose track of time in the city,” I shrugged. “There’s so much to see and do.”
“That’s true,” Charlie agreed. “What did you have in mind as far as food? You’re the expert here.”
“Well, let me think,” I mulled it over as I led him over to a different part of the street. We didn’t have to go far before merchandise stalls gave way to food carts and small restaurants. “You’ll have to try some authentic Jerk Chicken, of course. You can’t come to Jamaica and not try it. I think you should try some Kabritu as well.” I shot him a sly smile, and I could read the apprehension in his face.
“What is that?” he asked apprehensively.
“Don’t worry about it,” I brushed him off. “Just trust me, you’ll like it.” In my opinion, Kabritu was pretty good, but most people tended to be put off just from hearing what it was. It would be better if he tasted it first, so he could give his honest opinion.
I led him to two different stalls, first for the Jerk Chicken and then for the Kabritu.
“Soup?” Charlie asked. “Isn’t it kind of warm for that?”
“Stew,” I corrected as I looked around for a place for us to sit. “And no, it’s a traditional street food regardless of what time of year it is. It never really gets cold in Jamaica, so there’s not much in the way of seasonally exclusive foods.”
We sat down on the edge of a large fountain and dug into our food. It had been a few hours since we’d set out, and I couldn’t speak for Charlie, but I felt absolutely ravenous. Though, judging by the way he was scarfing down the food, I could tell he was hungry as well.
“Okay,” Charlie nodded as she finished off his bowl of stew. “You were right. That was pretty good. So why did you give me that creepy smirk when you told me you were gonna have me try it?”
“It wasn’t creepy,” I protested. “And it’s goat meat.”
“Goat?” Charlie asked in surprise, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. I nodded.
“Well, I stand by what I said,” Charlie shrugged. “It was good. And it’s probably a good thing that you didn’t tell me what it was beforehand.”
“I thought that might be best,” I agreed.
I was still snickering when he stood up and looked around for a trash can to dispose of the empty stew container. What occurred next happened so quickly that if I hadn’t been used to this place, I might have missed it entirely.
“Stop!” I yelled as I stood up and gripped the passing man by the back of his shirt. He coughed and sputtered as I pulled so hard that it dug into his neck and cut off his airway. I shoved him roughly to the ground before forcing his fist open and retrieving the item he had clutched there.
“What the hell?” Charlie yelled as he stared down at me in confusion.
“He took this,” I explained as I stood up and presented Charlie’s wallet to him. His eyes went wide as he frantically checked his pants pockets.
“How…?” he hissed as he glared at the young man, still catching his breath on the ground.
“He’s a pickpocket,” I replied. “Unfortunately, not uncommon in Kingston. Especially when they spot what looks like a clueless American tourist.”
The young man looked up at us with frightened eyes before shooting to his feet and bolting away in the opposite direction. A few people turned to watch the altercation, but they didn’t intervene or even react. They just continued going about their day.
“Thanks,” Charlie huffed. “Losing my wallet would have been a pain to deal with.”
“No problem,” I shook my head. “Pick-pocketing and other petty crimes are just a sad reality of life here, though it’s gotten a lot better than when I was a girl. I’m just glad I’m not rusty after spending so long away from here.”
We decided to head back to the hotel then, and in the end, I decided not to mention going to see my cousin. We’d had a nice afternoon, and I didn’t want to spoil it by bringing up family drama. We wouldn’t have time now, anyway, since we needed to go and get ready for the mission that evening. That was what I told myself as we made our way back, and I pushed away the small feelings of regret that bloomed inside me as I let the chance to see my family again slip away.
23
Junior
We sped down the highway along with two police cruisers. We’d managed to get in contact with Kamya’s little sister Lakshmi just under an hour ago. Miranda had done everything she could to keep her on the line for as long as possible while Fiona rushed to trace the call, but in the end, whoever was holding Lakshmi captive had discovered that she was speaking to us. The last thing we’d heard before the call ended was Lakshmi’s scream.
Miranda had been shell-shocked immediately following the phone call, but she’d snapped out of it once we were in the car. She’d called Wallace to tell him about what had happened and to let him know that we were on our way to the house now. He’d told us that he would contact the police to let them know we needed backup, and a few moments later, they’d caught up to us.
With the lights and sirens blaring, we were able to move a little faster, but it still felt like time was slipping away. I was sure that I’d heard a scream just before the call cut off. That being said, Lakshmi hadn’t sounded particularly upset or afraid when Miranda has been speaking to her. She’d sounded worried that whoever had taken her might find out she was using the phone, but not to the point where she wasn’t willing to speak with us. Something ab
out the entire thing seemed strange. My interrogation with Atkins had left me rattled, and I wasn’t sure what to expect anymore.
“Here, turn here!” Miranda yelled.
I turned sharply onto the street she’d indicated, internally chastising myself for having gotten distracted with my own thoughts. I pulled up to the house that Fiona had sent us to. In my haste, I didn’t bother to park correctly, instead stopping the car haphazardly across the middle of the lawn. I’d barely put the car in park before Miranda threw the passenger side door open and jumped out. She ran up to the door and kicked it open in an impressively fluid motion. Normally, we would need a warrant before entering the home of a suspect, but since we suspected that a child’s life was actively in danger, Miranda was well within her rights to bust the door in.
Still, she was too reckless.
“Miranda, wait!” I called as I chased after her. “We have to clear the house!”
“No time,” she called back as she rushed up the stairs.
I swore under my breath as I watched her go. I understood that she was worried about the girl, but she wouldn’t be able to help her if she got herself killed by acting like this. I moved through the bottom floor of the house slowly, making sure to check every room thoroughly. I just hoped Miranda wouldn’t run into any trouble upstairs.
A moment later, two of the cops who’d accompanied us entered the house as well, and I felt a little more relieved now that we weren’t alone.
“Agent Castillo went upstairs,” I called out to them. “She’s looking for the kid. She might need help.” One of the officers nodded and headed upstairs while the other helped me clear the ground floor.
I didn’t find any sign of anyone, child or adult. I did, however, notice that they seemed to have left in a hurry. The kitchen table had three plates of food on it. Two were half-eaten, but the third plate, clearly belonging to a child judging from the brightly colored cartoon characters on it, was untouched. Now that I was certain the house was clear, I took a closer look around and noticed more signs that a child had been living in the house.
“There’s no one upstairs,” Miranda growled as she came back down the steps two at a time. “Did you find anything down here?
“Yeah,” I nodded. “Look at this. There are toys and children’s books all over the place. There’s even a spot at the kitchen table. This is completely different from the homes we searched in the upstate neighborhood.”
“There was a bedroom upstairs, too,” Miranda noted. “A little girl’s. There were toys and posters and a TV. Unless they have another kid, I’m assuming that’s where Lakshmi was sleeping.”
This situation seemed much closer to the one we’d found Dajuan in than the one we’d found Kamya in. It didn’t seem as though these people had been abusing Lakshmi in any way, but we couldn’t be sure what their intentions with her were until we found them.
“Agents,” one of the officers called as she came back down the stairs. “I found this under the bed in one of the rooms upstairs.” She handed us an evidence bag. Inside was a cell phone.
“This must have been the phone we called,” Miranda surmised. “I told her to go hide with it. That’s why it was under the bed. They must have left it behind when they fled, so we wouldn’t be able to trace them. Damn!”
Miranda put her hands on her hips and started pacing back and forth angrily.
“Maybe one of the neighbors saw something,” I suggested.
“Yeah,” she replied. “I’ll call Fiona and have her see what she can find out about the owners of the house. We can put out an Amber alert.”
“That’s a good idea,” I nodded as I stepped back out of the house. By now, a few of the neighbors had come out of their houses to see what was going on. It was understandable, considering there were two police cruisers and an unmarked black van parked on their neighbor’s lawn.
“Excuse me,” a thin, blonde woman wearing a deep blue tracksuit asked nervously as she approached me. “Is everything okay with the Andersons?”
“I’m afraid there’s been a crime in this house,” I answered vaguely. I needed to choose my words carefully. “You didn’t happen to notice anything strange recently, did you?”
“I did, actually,” she informed us. “A little earlier, I was taking my dog for a run around the neighborhood, and I noticed Sue and Greg packing things into the back of their van. I thought maybe they were going on a trip, so I stopped by to ask them about it.”
“What did they say?” I asked.
“Well, they looked nervous or something,” the blonde woman fidgeted. “I asked if they were heading somewhere, and Sue looked at me like she’d seen a ghost. I guess she didn’t hear me come up. Anyway, she just sort of laughed and said they were taking a little vacation. But I could tell something was strange. You know how when people lie, they get all fidgety and start looking around? That’s how she was acting. All fidgety like she didn’t want to look at me.”
“Did Mr. Anderson say anything?” I asked.
“No,” the woman shook her head. “Seemed pretty rude, actually. He just put their daughter in the backseat and told Sue they needed to get going.”
“Their daughter?” I asked, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice.
“Yes,” the woman smiled. “Tiny little thing. Cute as a button. They adopted her from some third-world country a few months ago. They’ve always been such sweet people. That’s why I was so surprised to see them acting like that.”
“You saw this girl?” I asked.
“Yes,” the woman answered a little apprehensively. “Short, curly black hair. Chubby little cheeks. Why? Did something happen to her?” Her voice rose as she began to panic.
“I hope not,” I answered honestly. “Can you please tell me what their car looks like?”
“Oh, sure,” the woman answered nervously. “It’s a blue minivan. It’s got a bunch of bumper stickers on the back. Oh, I’m sorry, I can’t remember anything else right now. Are you sure everything’s okay? Has something happened to them?”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you anymore,” I apologized as I reached into my pocket to grab my phone. I turned away from the woman and stalked back toward the house as I dialed Fiona’s number. I could hear the woman sputtering behind me in shock, and I felt a little bad about turning my back on her so rudely, but time was of the essence now. Spending even a few seconds trying to be polite would mean a child’s life would be in danger for that much longer.
“Hello?” She answered almost immediately.
“Hi, Fiona,” I replied in a rush.
“Miranda already called me,” she assured me. “I’m looking up the homeowner’s information now.”
“Their names are Sue and Greg Anderson,” I interrupted. “At least, that’s what the neighbors know them as. They drive a blue minivan. A witness saw them leave with Lakshmi.”
“Okay,” Fiona replied. I could hear her furiously tapping away at her keyboard. “I’ll have the Amber Alert sent out ASAP.”
“Okay,” I nodded as I ended the call. I ran back into the house and looked around for Miranda. I finally found her on the upper level.
“Hey,” she greeted me as I entered the bedroom she was standing in. It was decorated just as she’d said, in shades of soft pink and purple, with toys and stuffed animals covering every inch of the room. “I was just looking around to see if I could find anything that might help us.”
“I just finished speaking with one of the neighbors,” I frowned. “She told me that she saw the homeowners leave with Lakshmi earlier. She also said that apparently, they introduced Lakshmi to everyone as their adopted daughter a few months ago.”
“Yeah, I assumed something like that was the case.” Miranda sighed. Her voice was calm, but there was a discernible edge to it. “I mean, just look at this room. It’s got everything a kid could want.”
“It sounds like the Andersons had similar intentions to Atkins,” I concluded. “When they saw the ad, they must hav
e genuinely wanted to help her.”
“It looks that way,” Miranda replied skeptically. “But that still begs the question of what they were doing on that website in the first place. Their intentions can’t have been entirely pure if they were on the black market to begin with.”
She had a point, and I wasn’t sure what to say in response to that. There was also the fact that they had run after finding Lakshmi on the phone with someone. If they really didn’t have anything to hide, why did they flee?
“Agents,” one of the police officers called as she rushed up the stairs. “We have a lead on the location of the vehicle. A woman at a gas station about twenty miles from here called to report that she’d seen a couple with a child matching the description of the suspects. Officers are on their way there now.”
“Let’s go then,” Miranda urged as she rushed past me toward the stairs.
I followed her without hesitation. Even though it didn’t appear as though the Andersons meant any harm to Lakshmi, we couldn’t afford to take any risks.
Miranda beat me to the driver’s seat, and though I was a little apprehensive about having her drive while she was in such an agitated state, I didn’t have time to argue. She floored it as soon as I was inside the car, and once again, we had the benefit of police sirens to help us get there faster.
A drive that should have taken twenty minutes took ten at the speed we were traveling, and I could see several police cars in the parking lot as we pulled up to the gas station. As I got out of the car, I could hear shouts and what sounded like a woman screeching coming from inside the gas station.
“Agent Chapman with MBLIS,” I flashed my ID to one of the police officers standing outside the gas station. “What’s going on?”
“The lady who called the tip in grabbed the kid,” the officer explained.