Page 78 of Facing the Enemy
“Mr. Washington, this bakery smells wonderful, but why meet here and not at our office?” I said.
He dragged his tongue across his lower lip. “Seemed like the best place and not far from work. I hate traffic. You can call me Clyde.”
“Thanks. I’m Risa and this is Gage.” I glanced around the busy bakery, glad we sat apart from the line of customers. “A popular spotfor commuters.” I subconsciously urged him to relax. His tense shoulders indicated he carried a lot of weight. “Do you want a donut or pastry?”
“No, but thanks. The coffee’s enough.”
I took a sip of my own. Definitely strong. “How long have you been at Houston Healing and Hope Maternity Care?”
He dug his left fingers into his palm while holding his coffee in his right. “Going on nine years. I do odd jobs—repairs, painting, heavy lifting, and drive the residents to their appointments. Most of them don’t have cars, and we have a courtesy shuttle.” He dropped his napkin on the floor and reached to pick it up while muttering something unintelligible.
“Did you ask me something?” I shepherded kindness into every word.
He flushed. “No, ma’am.”
“Do you enjoy your work there?” I smiled.
He moistened his lips. “To me, it’s a ministry. Those women who come to the care center have nowhere else to go. Most of them have been deserted by the men who got them pregnant.” He held up his palm. “I know the woman is responsible too. But she’s the one usually faced with the financial responsibility and often raising the child without help.” Clyde’s words indicated a man committed to his job.
“I know the maternity home has helped a lot of women, and I’m proud to say my church is one of the sponsors,” I said.
“Then we have a connection.” He peered at me, then Gage. “Why do you want to talk to me? Have I broken a law?”
“No, sir,” I said. “You have an outstanding work record. Not even a traffic violation. Your uneasiness tells me you might already be aware of our concern, especially since you preferred speaking to Special Agent Jack Bradford. He is recovering from a heart attack.”
“At home or in the hospital?”
“Hospital. He’s in serious condition.”
Clyde paled. “Is the attacker in jail?”
“Not yet. As soon as we’re permitted to talk to him, we’ll find out what he remembers.”
He shook his head. “I hate it when good people are hurt, especially law enforcement who risk their lives to protect us.”
Gage and I needed to find answers. “Clyde, in my experience, I’ve found we’re either afraid of the unknown or fearful of what we do know, especially when we’re confused about a situation. Not sure about you, but the unexplainable always raises questions in my mind.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sweat beaded on his brow.
“This is a safe place, Clyde. Your words stay right here with Agent Patterson and me. You have our word. Is there anything going on at the center that alarms you?”
Clyde took a gulp of coffee. “Ms. Risa and Gage, I have a wife and two teenage daughters. If anything happened to me, they’d be okay financially ... except ...”
I lowered my voice. “Are you worried about someone taking revenge on them because of what you might say?”
He drew in a heavy breath. “I’ve seen things not right. Very wrong.”
“Like Hai and her baby?”
He paused. “Yes. Is she why you wanted to talk to me?”
“Agent Patterson and I want to make sure justice is served,” I said. “An investigation is in progress to determine why the sisters were killed. Do you have any idea who might have taken her baby or why someone wanted them dead?”
Lines fanned from his eyes. “She was a sweet girl, always smiling.” He paused again. “I’ve overheard conversations that made me wish I couldn’t hear. I speculate Hai wasn’t the only resident caught up in illegal dealings. But she didn’t speak English, so I can only repeat gossip about her.”
“What have you seen or heard?”
He scanned the area before speaking. “If I heard right, some of the women were offered money to give up their babies, a few obliged. Birth mothers disappeared, which to me seemed strange.”
