Page 32 of Facing the Enemy
My mind flowed back over all those weeks I walked from my apartment to the restaurant where Trenton and I ate his last meal, trying to remember a bit of evidence. I refused to step inside. Much too painful. Two days after his death, I’d gone back to his apartment and searched for anything Mom and Dad, HPD, or the FBI might have missed. All roads led nowhere.
I frequented those places where Trenton spent his hours before and after his decision to turn his life over to God. I questioned many people about him, some more than once. I showed his pic to everyone and told all who’d listen that he was my brother. His sponsor invited me to Trenton’s AA meetings. There I met his new friends and welcomed their sweet compliments about him. I’d taken to attending his church and the same small group, but God had failed me. Hearing about how he’d given back to others, I believed in Trenton’s healing from alcohol and drugs. He could have done so much for others if he’d lived.
I didn’t have my brother or the person who’d killed him. My misery led me to blame someone, and I inched toward God. Why hadn’t He helped stop a tragic death?
Then I read Carson’s story. Could the killer have been right in front of me for months, and I let him slip right through my fingers?
17
GAGE
Neither Jack nor I expected the Addingtons to video-call us from the Des Moines hospital. The FBI assistant special agent in charge there explained the couple wanted to talk to us as soon as possible, and she’d arranged it. I wish we’d interviewed them before Fox News and taken the opportunity to coach their responses. Words spoken in despair were often misunderstood. Often information could be relayed that should have been kept private until arrests were made. In the case of the Addingtons, they’d expressed their gratitude to the FBI and the hospital for finding their baby—and told the kidnappers their freedom was short-lived.
Jack and I logged on to the secure site and greeted the couple. Michael Addington had a few days’ beard growth, and his shirt showed a coffee stain. The circles under Sarah’s eyes reminded me of my sister when she slept without removing mascara.
“Thank you for all your hard work on our behalf and our son’s,” Michael said. “We’re grateful to you, the FBI here in Des Moines, and the hospital for saving our son’s life and taking the initiative to identify him.” He wrapped his arm around his wife’s waist. Exhausted mildly described them.
“How is your baby?” I said.
“Doing well. He’s receiving the best care, and we plan to bring him home by the end of the weekend.”
Sarah spoke up. “I’m adopted, and we had no idea I carried the genetic disorder. And Michael didn’t know he carried it either. Seems like one hurdle after another.” She glanced at her husband, and he sighed.
The moment she said “adopted,” I flinched inside. Must be the time of year ... My son or daughter would have been nineteen in November, stepping into life with hopes and dreams. Never knowing the years I spent searching for him or her.
“I have a cousin with cystic fibrosis,” Jack said. “The Cystic Fibrosis Foundation has made great strides in moving forward with research.”
“Yes,” Michael said. “Another reason we’re grateful. Researchers have identified the gene and protein responsible. Those discoveries have led to new treatments.”
Jack continued. “Sounds like a cure is on the horizon in our lifetime. Mr. and Mrs. Addington, Agent Patterson and I appreciate your call. We have our questions too.”
I respected Jack’s support and encouragement for the Addingtons, a side of him foreign to me. He was trying. If Risa were here, she’d say, “Jack did have a humane side.”
Sarah reached for a tissue before Michael began. “Right before this call, we met the Wades briefly here at the hospital. Although the introductions were extremely uncomfortable and short, they were devastated to have been victimized with such a horrific scheme. Sarah and I empathized with them just as they did with us. Neither Sarah nor I believe they willfully consented to an illegal adoption. We realize the FBI will continue investigating them and their testimony to ensure their innocence, but that is where we stand. The second matter is determining how the kidnapping occurred. To us, the crime must be one of many. We were told the Wades paid forty-eight thousand dollars to the illegal adoption agency. While the sum is large, it couldn’t have gone far with the people involved. Are we looking at organized crime and other couples presented with abducted children?”
Jack turned for me to answer. Alex Wade had shared the disappearance of ninety thousand dollars from his and Nanette’s business account. “When a fraudulent adoption agency does a background check, that includes financial information, which makes it easy access for more money. It appears the operation may have been in business for a while. CARD, the FBI’s Child Abduction Rapid Deployment Division, has two goals—the safe return of abducted children and apprehending the person or persons responsible.”
“Is there more than one CARD team in the US? We don’t know much about them except they were working our case right after we learned our son was missing. We were told they have around a 90percent success rate in finding missing children.”
“The FBI has five CARD teams in the US, and each one has a dozen or so agents,” I said. “These special agents are experts. They are in communication with each other, organizations that are committed to finding kidnapped children, law enforcement, and other agents to apprehend the abductors.” I hated what they’d been through. The nightmare would haunt them for years. Probably forever. “We celebrate when a child is recovered and mourn when they aren’t. I promise that I will not rest until the kidnappers are under arrest.”
“You aren’t God.” Sarah huffed. “I’m sorry. I’m still upset.”
I forged ahead. “We’d like to ask you a few questions beyond your original interview.”
“Go ahead,” Michael said. “I can’t imagine what more we could share.”
“At the hospital, did you note anyone lurking around who seemed suspicious?”
When the Addingtons shook their heads, I continued. “Before the abduction, did you notice anyone parked near your home or following you?”
“No. Why would we?” Michael said.
“What about a repairman or someone offering services?”
“We had our seasonal heating inspection, but we’ve used the same technician for years.” Michael turned to his wife. “Am I missing anything?”
“A tree service was in the area, and one of them asked if we neededlimbs cut. They weren’t in the house, and I have the company’s card. It’s at home in case we needed them.”
