Chapter Two
"Right in here," Sara said, holding open the door to one of the smaller interrogation rooms.
Rachel looked around the room, curiosity overriding whatever fear she might have been feeling. "This is the police station?" she asked, her curls tumbling over her shoulders as she turned to look back at Sara.
"Part of it, yes," Sara said, gently closing the door and wondering if she shouldn't have asked Catherine to do this interview. Catherine knew how to talk to kids. "I do most of my work in the labs downstairs."
"Labs? Like science labs?" Rachel asked.
Sara smiled. Maybe this would go okay after all. "Yes, exactly like science labs. That's my job - solving crimes with science."
"Cool," Rachel said, her eyes wide with interest. "What sort of crimes do you solve?"
"All sorts," Sara said as she sat down at the table. "We solve thefts and robberies. Sometimes murders. We also help people who are being abused."
Rachel immediately looked down and shook her head. "I don't know those two boys. They introduced themselves to me in the hotel lobby a little bit before my mom showed up. I don't know why they said those things."
"Okay," Sara said noncommittally. "Where was your mom then, while the boys were introducing themselves?"
Rachel sat down across from Sara, seeming shorter for a moment before she pulled her legs up so she could kneel on the chair. "Taking a nap in the hotel room. My dad was meeting with some people for work," she explained.
Sara nodded, though something about that bothered her. "Your mom asked you to wait in the lobby while she took a nap in the hotel room?" she asked.
Rachel nodded.
"Does she do that often?" Sara asked, her eyebrows climbing slightly. She couldn't imagine Catherine having Lindsey wait by herself in a hotel lobby anywhere, let alone in west Vegas.
Rachel shrugged. "Not really. She was just tired."
"How does your arm feel?" Sara asked, noticing how Rachel favored her left arm as she leaned against the table.
"Fine," Rachel said, frowning down at her arm briefly. "It only hurt a little, and then she let go."
Sara was more than willing to bet that the reason it only hurt 'a little' was because Rachel was habituated to being abused. "Would you mind if I looked at your arm?"
Rachel bit her lower lip and reluctantly held out her right arm. After a few seconds she pushed up her sleeve to reveal several bruises in several stages of healing, several healing cuts, numerous scars, and a reddened area from where Vanessa had been holding onto her earlier.
"I did the cuts, and the scars," Rachel said, her eyes focused down on the table.
"You cut yourself?" Sara asked. She'd heard of people cutting themselves, even seen scarring and fresh cuts on a few bodies down in autopsy, but she'd never seen it on a child before.
Rachel nodded, still not looking up.
"Is it okay if I take a picture of the area that's red from where your mom was holding your arm?" Sara asked, deciding to leave the subject of self-harm alone for a moment.
"Okay," Rachel said, her voice quiet.
Sara picked up her camera from where she'd left it on her kit earlier and frowned as Rachel automatically recoiled when she pointed the camera in her direction. "Just your arm," she promised.
Rachel nodded and left her arm on the table, her eyes worried as she watched Sara snap a few pictures.
"All done," Sara said, making a show of turning off the camera and putting it back down on her kit. "Does your mom know that you cut yourself?"
"Yes," Rachel said, frowning down at her arm.
"Was she getting you some help?" Sara asked. "Therapy, maybe?" she added when Rachel only seemed confused.
Rachel quickly shook her head. "No, but she said...she said…" Rachel trailed off and looked down at her arm again.
"I'm not going to tell her you said anything," Sara offered, though she wasn't sure that was the problem.
"She said that the next time I cut myself, she'd take me to the emergency room so everyone could see what a freak I am," Rachel said, her gaze fixed on the still healing cuts on her arm.
Sara forced herself to swallow her first response, and then her second as well. "Hey, you are not a freak," she said, somehow managing to keep her voice level.
"I cut myself," Rachel said, peeking up ever so slightly.
"It's probably not the most healthy coping mechanism out there, but it does not make you a freak. Not at all," Sara said firmly. She had probable cause for both physical and emotional abuse from Vanessa. That just left what the younger boy, Jeremy, had said about Paul. "Is it okay if I ask you about your dad?"
Rachel nodded. "He knows I cut myself, but he hasn't really said anything to me about it."
"Okay," Sara said, wondering if the lack of response would be grounds for psychological neglect. "Has he ever hurt you physically?"
Rachel shook her head silently.
"Okay," Sara said again, though she had some doubts about that. "Has your dad ever hurt you sexually?"
"No," Rachel said quickly. "He doesn't hurt me. I think Jeremy and Michael might have me confused for someone else. I've never had siblings. But, they knew my parents' names, and they know I'd lived on Hill Air Force Base. I didn't tell them any of that."
Sara nodded. There was a possibility that this was a case of mistaken identity, but she didn't feel that was very likely. To her it had looked much more like children being reunited with their younger sibling and their abusers. "We may be able to test your DNA and compare it to theirs. That would tell us for sure if you're related."
"Do you have to draw blood?" Rachel asked.
"No." Sara shook her head. "We can do a cheek swab. It won't hurt at all. We just need permission from your mom or dad first."
Rachel shook her head, mirroring Sara. "I don't think they're going to want to do that."
"They may not have a choice. It's likely that we'll ask a judge for a warrant for their DNA. What Jeremy accused Paul of is very serious. We want to make sure that all of you are safe," Sara explained. "Do you feel okay waiting here alone for a few minutes? I just need to check in with my teammates and get the process for getting a warrant for DNA started."
"Okay," Rachel said, sounding a little uncertain. "You'll come back?"
"Yes, I promise," Sara said, meeting Rachel's eyes. "I'll be back within ten minutes."
Rachel hesitated and then nodded once. "Okay."
Sara picked up her camera - unable to miss the way Rachel's body tensed in response. "Ten minutes," she promised again as she rested her hand on the doorknob. She waited until Rachel nodded again before opening the door and stepping into the hallway with a heavy sigh.
"Fucking hell," Catherine said loudly from across the hall as she pulled the door to one of the other interrogation rooms shut. "It's like talking to a revolving door. She tells so many lies she can't even keep them straight for a twenty minute conversation. How is it on your end?"
"She's denying the sexual abuse and the physical abuse from Paul, and she flinches every time she sees a camera," Sara said grimly.
Catherine nodded. "One of the boys told Nick that Paul would take pornographic pictures and video of them. We're including any cameras and computers in the hotel room in the warrant. Do we have enough to charge Vanessa?"
Sara couldn't hide her pained expression. "We have enough to call CPS. I doubt we're going to be able to get child abuse charges to stick from a few bruises though."
"Well, if we can get CPS to take her into custody, that would give us a few days to build a case. If we find child pornography in the hotel room, that will take Paul out of the picture," Catherine pointed out.
"Just to leave her with another abuser? We watched this woman drag Rachel around by her arm. She's got bruises in at least three stages of healing, and Vanessa called her a freak because she cuts herself as a way to deal with being abused," Sara said, struggling to keep her tone even.
Catherine pressed her lips flat. "Alright, I'll call CPS and also get the process started for warrants for DNA and for the contents of the hotel room. We may be able to get Vanessa on child abuse charges for Jeremy and Michael if the DNA pans out."
"Okay. If Rachel has a bag at the hotel, would you mind having someone bring it back? That way Rachel has a few changes of her own clothes," Sara said, focusing on Catherine's answering nod. "I'll be in with Rachel, if someone could let me know when a social worker shows up?"
"Will do," Catherine said, frowning at her watch before heading down the hall with purposeful strides.
Sara sighed and leaned against the wall. This case was quickly becoming a living nightmare and it seemed like it was only going to get worse before it got better.
Nick identified Michael and Jeremy's adoptive mom as soon as she rounded the corner into the hallway. There was something universal about the expression of a panicked parent, something Nick remembered well from his own parents.
"I'm looking for Michael and Jeremy Chatlin," she called to Nick, her eyes half frantic as she checked the doorways she was passing. "My name is Anita Robles. I'm their adoptive mother."
Nick held out his hand. "I'm Nick Stokes. Michael and Jeremy are with me," he said, nodding to the interrogation room where he'd been talking with the boys.
"Oh, thank God," Anita said, though the relief didn't quite reach her eyes. "Are they alright?"
"They're safe," Nick said - he wasn't sure that 'alright' was an accurate descriptor considering they'd just been face to face with two people who had abused them.
Anita nodded, her expression pained. "Is it true? They found Rachel? Alive?"
"We believe so. We'd actually like to compare DNA samples to be certain," Nick explained.
"That seems like it would be for the best," Anita agreed. "I never imagined that they would actually find her alive. Given what they survived, I never thought they would find her alive."
Nick frowned. Nothing he had heard so far had sounded like it was beyond the likelihood of survival.
"May I see them?" Anita asked.
"Yes, of course," Nick said, reaching for the door handle while wondering what he was missing.
"Mom!" Jeremy lept up and hurried to her side, stopping short of embracing her.
"Mom," Michael echoed, getting to his feet and moving so that he was standing next to his adoptive mom.
"What happened?" she asked, clearly restraining herself from hugging her kids. "How did you find her?"
Jeremy glanced over to Nick sheepishly. "That's something we should probably tell Nick too. We didn't exactly break the law, but we may have bent it a little in a few places," he explained. "For a good cause."
Nick raised an eyebrow but couldn't stop the smile that flitted across his face. "Why don't we get your DNA samples processing and then you can tell us how you found Rachel?"
"Do you have to draw blood?" Jeremy asked, fiddling with the end of his shirtsleeve.
"Nope," Nick said, reaching for where he'd set his kit next to the table. "Just a cheek swab. You can do it yourself if you'd prefer."
Jeremy immediately nodded and went to Nick's side to peer into the kit. "Is that fingerprint powder?"
"It is," Nick said, taking the jar out so Jeremy could see better. "And this is the brush we use to dust for prints."
"Cool," Jeremy said, taking the brush from Nick and pushing it along the edge of the table.
"Here we go," Nick said as he finished labeling one of the swabs. He handed it to Michael. "Just rub the fuzzy end on the inside of your cheek. That will collect enough DNA for us to analyze and we'll compare it to Rachel's DNA."
Michael considered the swab for a few seconds before he did as Nick instructed. "I don't think that Paul or Vanessa are going to let you check Rachel's DNA. Vanessa was denying that she's our mother," he said as he passed the swab back to Nick.
Jeremy frowned down at the swab Nick had given him. "Do you believe us? About what we said about Paul and Vanessa?"
"I do," Nick said, meeting Jeremy's and then Michael's gaze. "I do believe you."
Jeremy and Michael looked at each other, Michael uncertain and Jeremy worried.
"I don't think our social worker believed us," Jeremy said after a moment. "We told her where to find Rachel. We told her about Paul and Vanessa. But she didn't do anything."
"She told us she couldn't find Rachel, and we figured that Paul and Vanessa had moved when Paul got rid of us," Michael added.
Nick felt his face mirror Anita's wince at the idea that children were something that could be gotten rid of.
"They were still in Utah, less than five miles away from Hill Air Force Base," Jeremy said, and then stuck the cheek swab in his mouth.
"Jeremy's friend Mikey had the idea to look for Vanessa online, on Facebook," Michael explained. "He said your cheek - don't chew on it."
Jeremy yanked the swab from his mouth and considered it before sheepishly holding it out to Nick. "Sorry."
"That's alright, just means we've got plenty of DNA to compare," Nick said, taking the swap and capping it. "Give me a moment to hand these off to a lab tech."
"Mom?" Jeremy asked. The door fell shut behind Nick before he could hear what Jeremy had been about to ask.
"Greggo," Nick called, catching a glimpse of ruffled hair from down the hallway.
Greg stumbled back a few steps into view. "Sorry, I've got a priority analysis from Gil," he said, waving an evidence bag containing two swaps.
"Chatlin case?" Nick asked hopefully.
"Yep. I take it you've got my comparisons?" Greg asked.
"Two of them. Last I checked, Sara had the girl," Nick said, handing over his swabs.
Greg nodded. "Brass came back with the warrant. Catherine and Warrick are heading to check out the hotel room. Sofia is still working on Vanessa, Gil and Brass just went back in with Paul," Greg said as he examined the swab casings. "I'll drop by Sara and see if she's got a swab ready from the girl."
"Thanks," Nick said. "Tell Cath and Warrick to be careful out there, if you see them before they head out."
"Will do," Greg said, giving an awkward wave before he turned and went back down the hallway.
Nick took a steadying breath and went back inside the interrogation room.
"-we need to find out what's happening first," Anita finished saying.
"What if-" Jeremy broke off and turned to Nick. "What if they say that Rachel has to go with Paul and Vanessa?"
"We're going to do what we can to prevent that from happening," Nick said, wishing he could promise more. "Why don't you go ahead and tell me how you found Rachel?"
"I'd like to hear about that too," Anita added.
Jeremy sighed. "Mikey - a friend of mine - had the idea to look for Vanessa on Facebook, because his mom is on Facebook all the time. We'd been looking using Rachel's name, but we hadn't found anything," he explained.
"Vanessa has a Facebook account. Mikey helped us make a fake account so we could friend her and see her activity without her recognizing us," Michael added, looking uncomfortable. "We made a profile for a military wife with two kids, stationed at Nellis Air Force Base. Vanessa accepted our friend request without even messaging us."
"When was this?" Anita asked, not sounding particularly scandalized.
"About six months ago," Michael said, glancing at Nick. "We talked about going to the police, but we kinda figured there wouldn't be anything they could do given that Vanessa was still in Utah."
'And you didn't think that the police would believe you,' Nick added silently.
"Last week Vanessa posted that she was taking a trip to Vegas. We figured it was very likely that Paul and Rachel would be going on this trip. So we started calling hotels, pretending to be Paul, and asking to confirm details about the reservation." Jeremy was flushed slightly as he glanced at Anita.
"We found the reservation on like the eighth call, I think," Michael said. "We watched Vanessa's Facebook page all this week, trying to find a time when we could meet with Rachel without Paul or Vanessa seeing us. We had hoped that Rachel would remember us, but she was too young when we were taken, I guess.
"So we skipped school today and hid out in the hotel lobby until we saw Rachel," Jeremy finished, placing his hands flat on the table. "Thank you for helping us. We didn't really have a plan beyond getting Rachel away from them."
Michael nodded. "Yes, thank you. I don't really want to think about what would have happened if you hadn't stopped them."
"It's our job," Nick said, thinking of all the times these kids had needed help and no one had been there for them. Even now he couldn't guarantee the safety of their little sister.