Page 84 of Facing the Enemy
The female Des Moines ASAC answered. “I’m assembling areport to send you by close of day. Two couples lost thirty-five and forty thousand dollars respectively. I have their receipts. One paid by credit card and the other by a cashier’s check. Neither of those couples received a child. A man phoned the FBI anonymously and claimed his nephew and wife adopted a baby through the agency, but he refused a name.”
“I’ve noted other cities with adoption scams,” I said to the Des Moines ASAC. “None used the same name or names linked to the Addingtons’ baby. Unless similar aliases or pics of the same people are found, we have no way of knowing how widespread the crime ring is.” I thanked the ASAC and relayed the conversation to Risa.
A text landed on my phone about the origin of the Vietnamese woman.Caller used a burner phone in a southeast Houston location.
Risa closed her laptop. “One brick wall after another. I have a theory. Is it possible separate teams work specific cities, and no one comprehends who’s in charge at the top except for a few elite? If my theory is true, a team could be apprehended and face charges, but the rest of the teams under the umbrella wouldn’t be obstructed from continuing business. No plea bargains if the accused has no concept of what’s occurring and who’s the kingpin.”
She made sense. “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to bring down an organization like that?”
“The magnitude would require a huge nationwide task force,” she said. “Or possibly worldwide. What about the buyer for Hai’s baby? Where is her baby now? The US or international? The woman who called you earlier understood correctly—boy babies in some cultures bring a huge price. Can we close our minds to other victims and simply find who and how the Addingtons’ baby ended up in Des Moines?”
“I can’t close my eyes to a crime,” I said. “It nails why I work this division.”
“Impossible for me too. Must be another reason why we love each other.” She took a deep breath. “Do you want children?”
I did, but how could I tell her the truth? “Yes, but it scares me.”
“Me too.” She studied me. “Gage, why do you work this division?”
“Short version or the long? If the long, I’ll tell you on the way to your hotel.”
Risa stood with her shoulder bag intact. I picked up her laptop and took her hand. Easier to talk while I drove. That way I could concentrate on the street while I opened the door to my demons.
44
The drive to the extended-stay hotel from the restaurant was about twenty minutes—twenty gruesome minutes to dig up my shame. I sensed Risa’s attention on me, not wanting to prod but wordlessly encouraging me. She reached across the seat and touched my arm.
“This is me, the woman who loves you. Your friend through thick and thin.”
“I’m thinking about the best way to say this,” I said. “You told me you wanted to work our division after you’d experienced a neighbor woman beating her child, and the little girl died.”
“Why did you choose our division?”
“The source happened when I was a teen.”
“When I told you about Trenton’s birthday, you said milestones were hard. That comes only from experience. Once you talked about the evil of losing someone close to you.”
“Right. This is a sad story. Nothing I’m proud of.”
“You’ve seen me at my worst, Gage. Think about my malicious response to Carson. You witnessed my humiliating fall.”
“And how you got right back up.” I wanted to say my worst fear was losing her. Not yet. My confession came first. “You wanted my motivation for protecting children, and I should have told you before now.” My heart pounded like I’d walked into a firefight without aweapon. “I was sixteen years old and a junior in high school. I fell in love with a girl my own age. She claimed she loved me too, when neither of us had a clue about real love. Both of us hit sexual overload and gave in to the pressure. Several times. To this day I don’t know why I ignored the possibility of her getting pregnant. But I did and it happened. I wanted to marry her, finish high school, and go on to college. My parents were disappointed, and her dad, a widower, blew. He wouldn’t let me see her and whisked her off to a home for unwed mothers.” I paused. “Every time I walk into one, I look for the youngest girl.”
“I’ve seen misery on your face,” she said. “But never asked about it. I’m so sorry.”
“She wrote me, told me she loved me, and intended to keep our baby. Her dad insisted she give up the child, but she refused. Nothing would keep the three of us apart. We were wrong. She never saw the baby or learned the sex. Her dad arranged for the baby’s adoption, and the new parents took the baby home from the hospital. When my girlfriend returned home, depression hit her hard, and her dad refused her counseling, said she’d be fine. He hired a tutor to help her finish high school and keep us apart.
“I tried to see her, but he obtained a peace warrant to keep me away. On Christmas Eve she cleaned out his medicine cabinet and took everything she could swallow—died in her sleep from the overdose. Two reasons why this time of year is hard. Her dad cremated her too. I learned later he attempted to file charges that I’d corrupted her, but my parents stopped it. I have a son or daughter somewhere. Nineteen years old. Birthday of November 1.”
Risa gasped. “Gage, how did you survive?”
“Oddly enough, I don’t know. The demons are still there. My parents are good people, and they never turned their back on me. When she died, they took me to a Christian psychologist, and I saw him every day for weeks. I remember my anger, needing to blame someone. Wanting to kill myself like some kind of Romeo and Juliet syndrome. After all, I should have been more responsible.
“I told my parents that I was all right and thanked them. Dideverything I could to find my child. Went on to college. Mastered in law enforcement with the idea of joining the FBI. I vowed back then to one day work in a field where kids of all ages were protected. But I’ve never found a trace of my child. Many times I questioned if her dad simply gave the baby to someone.” I shrugged. “I dated several girls for a while. Nothing lasted. All I could see was her face and question what happened to our child. I’ve never been able to shake off the guilt and blame.” I shook my head to dispel the humiliation.
“Gage, what was her name?”
I hadn’t spoken it aloud since she died. “Kara. Why?”
