The next six months were painfully quiet following McArthur's arrest. His files had revealed the identities of nearly twenty babies and ensured they were returned to their rightful families since it had been discovered during his interview that McArthur had been keeping tabs on the sales in the other three territories in order to blackmail regular payments from the others, which meant they had information on the identities of babies sold in the remaining three territories.
This had originally led to renewed hope that their search was over, but this had proven not to be the case. Jack had only secured access to the lowest levels of security in the systems of the other three territories, meaning that some of the higher paying clients still went under the radar. As near as they could tell, there was still almost half a dozen children unaccounted for by the search. David tried all he could to keep Kimberly from slipping deeper into despair. They had now been actively searching for almost three years, and yet another Christmas had been cruelly ripped from them. David arrived in the family room late in the evening, finding Kimberly sitting alone in the dark, staring into space.
"They'll find something." David said, moving over beside her and gently stroking her hair. "They're doing everything they can."
"Twenty five." She breathed gently. "We've safely returned twenty five babies to their parents. What more do we have to do before it's our turn?" She turned to face him, tears beginning to form. "Is this some sort of punishment? What did I ever do to deserve this?"
"You didn't do anything." David whispered, cradling her face into his chest as she began to weep. "This is not a punishment for anything you did; you can't blame yourself for any of this."
"Mommy, are you crying?" A little voice came from the door. Looking up from their embrace they realised that Joe had woken up and entered the room. Kimberly gestured for him to come over and lifted him into her lap, allowing him to join the embrace.
"I'm just a little upset." She told him as he settled into the combined embrace of his parents.
"Are we going away again?" He asked. Kimberly and David just looked at each other for a minute, unable to answer. It hadn't occurred to them that Joe was now astute enough to notice their hectic travel schedule across the previous year.
"What makes you say that honey?" Kimberly asked him.
"You usually cry before we have to go away." He informed them. The child was obviously a little concerned by this thought. They hadn't had any new information to chase up in all those months, so for the first time in a long while, Joe had gotten used to spending time around the base with all the other children. It obviously got to him anytime he had to be uprooted from his routine.
"We have a lot of things to do." David tried to explain. "Sometimes we have to go away, you know that."
"I know." He grumbled a little.
"I'll tell you what." Kimberly said, as she began to carry her son back over to his bedroom. "If you go back to sleep, your daddy and I will talk about it."
"So we're going away again?" He asked again, by now fighting the urge to fall asleep right there in her arms.
"Maybe not dear." She whispered gently as she lay him down. "Maybe not."
She made her way back to the living area and looked at David thoughtfully. This was something they hadn't initially planned for. They had always hoped that they would find their daughter within the first couple of months, but they hadn't thought about the practicalities of a longer search. Joe was now coming close to his fourth birthday. It wasn't fair to keep tearing him away.
"David, we really need to talk about this." Kimberly began. "We can't stop looking for our daughter, we can't, but we need to start thinking about what we're going to do with Joe."
"I always hoped we'd never have to make these kinds of arrangements." David sighed. "I didn't know when would be the right time to bring it up; you were always so sensitive about the subject of the search." He paused for a second and took Kimberly's hands in his own, looking into her eyes. "We have two children. We can't sacrifice the welfare of one for the sake of the other. I think we should talk about alternative arrangements to always bringing him along with us."
"We know the family unit here will take care of him while we're away." Kimberly told him. "We should enrol him in the pre-school. Hopefully when he starts going to school it will help keep him mind off things."
"It's not ideal," David responded, "but it may be the best route to take. He needs to get into a routine and get an education. He can't do that if we're pulling him away every time we hear a rumour."
"I hate to think what this will do to him." Kimberly replied sadly, quietly making her way to the bedroom door and watching him sleeping peacefully. "He couldn't understand if we told him what we were doing."
"We just have to be there for him as much as we can." David said to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and gently resting his chin on her shoulder. "Other than that, all we can do is hope for the best."
"He's incredible, isn't he?" Kimberly sniffed, observing her little boy.
"He is." David agreed. "He takes after his mother."
The following day, Kimberly took Joe to meet the pre-school teacher. She knew that in order to make the transition as smooth as possible, he had to be at ease with the teacher and his
classmates. Within minutes, she was convinced she needn't have been worried. Joe plunged headlong into activities with his new classmates, making friends and running around like a lunatic with the biggest smile on his face. It wouldn't necessarily make any periods of enforced absence any better, but at least she had eased her worries that this would be kinder on the poor child than continually pulling him across the globe any time a rumour came to them about a six-year-old who'd suffered the measles. It might not be the ideal happy family situation, but at least she knew he'd be well cared for. For seemingly the first time in years, Kimberly found herself smiling.
Nearly a month later they'd still not heard anything concrete. Things just seemed to run into a dead-end. Two of the three known drop-off locations no longer even existed, and the haulage yard in Southern Canada had been re-possessed by a stock broker almost three years previously. Whoever the baby merchants were, wherever they were, they seemed to have gone to ground. So it was for this reason that they were stunned into silence as Ethan sprinted into their room during Joe's birthday celebrations.
"Ethan, what the..." David reminded himself that his son was in the room, tucking into birthday cake. "What can I do for you?"
"Hey there Joe." He began, greeting the young boy. He handed him his hand-held games console that was almost surgically attached to him when he wasn't on duty. "Here you go, happy birthday."
He gave them a little glance and nodded in the direction of the hall. The fact he was willing to part with his beloved hand-held was an indication how important what he had to say was. As Joe began randomly tapping away on the electrical device, David and Kimberly followed him into the hall.
"Ethan, what is it?" David asked.
"The haulage yard's been sold." He told them.
"So?" Kimberly asked. "It's been a vacant lot..."
"I'll explain in the command centre." He interrupted her. "Trust me; you'll want to hear this."
With that, he sprinted from the area. David and Kimberly held each other cautiously. It was always so hard not to get hopeful any time a new lead came up, but their hopes had already been dashed too many times for them to get too excited. Could this really be any better than what they already knew?
They arrived after they'd managed to settle down the sugar-loaded Joe to find Ethan alone in the command centre. He was cycling through several data sheets on the screens, checking his data for the thousandth time, though still finding no flaw in his logic.
"You said the Haulage yard's been sold." David began. "It was repossessed."
It was repossessed by the finance agency which signed over the mortgage, Gretzky Estates."
"Something tells me it has nothing to do with Wayne." Kimberly retorted. "What does that mean?"
"It's a subsidiary of Lemieuxtech LTD." He explained. "This is itself a pocket investment of..."
"The five minute version, please." Kimberly snapped, a little impatiently.
"I've spent the last four months tracking the financial records and sales ledgers." Ethan explained. "After compiling a virtual dictionary's worth of subsidiaries and sub-groups and satellite companies, I've found out something interesting."
"For the love of GOD!" David roared. "Get to the bloody point!"
"The company which owned the haulage yard in the first place sold it to the finance agency which mortgaged it out." He began to explain. "But guess what? It's a satellite company of the same group."
"Is that some form of tax evasion?" David asked.
"I'm not through yet." Ethan continued. "That same finance company mortgaged it out to another subsidiary group, who ran it for a couple of years before they defaulted on their repayments." He highlighted the dates of the transactions. "Right around the time the brown smelly stuff hit the fan for Dr. Black."
"The same finance company re-possessed it." David gasped, realising what he was getting at.
"Doesn't it seem odd that a finance company would keep an empty, highly valued lot on it's books without lease or sale for this long?" He asked. "They then sold to Jagr Systems."
"Let me guess." David concluded. "Half a dozen dummy companies removed..."
"From the same group that owned the lot all this time." Ethan interrupted him. "They've obviously just been waiting for a time when the lot would be useful again, while keeping it's ownership...questionable."
"You mean confusing and misleading." David chipped in. "Who owns it?"
"It's funny you should ask that." Ethan carried on. "After tracking all the parent and dummy corporations, it all leads to one man. Jean-Marie Lerveaux"
"Then he's our man." David snapped.
"Not exactly." Ethan explained. "He WAS your man, but he died in 2006. He has a death certificate, coroner's report and even a grave plot number in Winnipeg." He cycled through a few more records. "That means all his tax records and business debts died with him, however, he has a nephew who was born within a week and a half of him." He pulled up two
file photographs, overlapping them. "Who seems to have an uncanny family resemblance to his uncle don't you think?"
"Let me guess..." Kimberly began.
"The nephew was left everything." Ethan confirmed. "I'd like to introduce you both to Jean-Christophe Ouvellier."
"Let me guess, Doggie doesn't know anything about this little search you've been doing."
"I was never here; I never touched these computers after hours." He handed David a dossier over his right shoulder. "I never gave you a printout of all the illegally obtained information I've just given you. I've been in my room every night after shift playing my Nintendo Wii." He held a hand over each shoulder for a high-five. "You can say it."
"Ethan," Kimberly breathed as she and her husband each slapped one of his hands, "you're a goddam genius."
"I know." He answered with the same mischievous giggle he had in high school. "I just like hearing it."
With that, it was back to the familiar old routine of booking flights and packing for a trip north of the border. Kimberly had only just finished booking her seat on the flight by the time David came into the room with her bag.
"I've packed it for a fortnight." He informed her.
"Hopefully that'll be long enough." Kimberly replied. "I really hate leaving the two of you. Is Joe still awake?"
"He's so full of sugar it'll be hours before I managed to get him down." David chuckled. "You and your obsession for black forest gateaux."
She made her way through to Joe's room, finding Joe still playing the games console Ethan had given him.
"Joe, mommy has to go away for a while." She told him. "Daddy will stay here with you."
"Do you have to go?" He asked, setting down the video game.
"I'm afraid so sweetheart." She replied, gently kissing him. "I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise."
"Kim, it's time to go." David told her. "Eric said he'll take you to the airport."
"Try to get to sleep." She told her son, hugging him once more. "You want to be healthy for pre-school tomorrow."
"Come home soon mommy." He called after her as she left. With that, Kimberly collected her luggage and made her way to the hangar.
A few hours later, Kimberly stepped off a plane in Southern Canada, finding the air to be crisp, and clear. She had taken a flight into a small airport a little way from Toronto, though she was beginning to regret her decision. The airport may have been several miles closer to the haulage yard, but there was no car rental nearby. Hailing a cab, she bundled her luggage into the back.
"Where are you going?" The driver asked her. He was a portly, aging man with thick glasses and thinning grey hair. He wore a thick, checked jacket which made him look like a lumberjack. A half-eaten foot long sub and folded newspaper in the passenger seat informed her that he was used to long, uneventful shifts. He smiled at her with a warm, friendly face that seemed to invite conversation. He reminded her a little of her grandfather, he just seemed to have an aura around him that made her feel comfortable in his presence.
"Is there a guest house or something near the old Maxwell's haulage yard?" Kimberly asked.
"Has your husband just started there?" He asked.
"He has." Kimberly lied. "We haven't bought somewhere yet, so I just need to stay there until I find an apartment."
"It shouldn't take you too long to find somewhere to buy." He chuckled, pulling away from the kerb. "Rocky Creek's a tiny place, but it's been a virtual ghost town for years. You'll probably get a room as Larry's."
"Is that a hotel?" She asked.
"No, Larry's is the tavern." He told her. "He has a couple of rooms above the bar. It's not the Ritz, but you can live in it."
"Take me there then." She instructed him. "Have many drivers started at the yard?"
"Since it got bought up a couple of days ago, truckers have been coming in from all over." He informed her. "When the yard shut down, most of the people moved away. It was the main employer around here. When that went, most people ended up getting jobs in the city."
"It sound like Mr Ouvellier's single-handedly saved the town." She commented.
"Single-handedly saved himself you mean." He laughed. "No-one knows why that lot's sat empty for all these years; it was a gold mine back in the day. He picked it up for a ridiculous price! God only knows who he had to lean on to get that price."
"Do you think there was something suspicious about the sale?" She asked.
"I've learned one thing to be true in this life." He remarked. "No-one has money that hasn't had to step on someone to get it." He pulled up outside a quaint little two-storey log building. The driver hadn't been exaggerating about the size of the town; there was maybe only three streets in either direction, with only a small convenience store, a church and the tavern at it's centre. "Well, we're here."
"How much do I owe you?" She asked.
"Nothing." He replied, waving her off. "Call it a complimentary service. I'm Larry."
"You own the Tavern?" She asked, slightly surprised. "So why...?"
"Like I said, most people moved out when the haulage yard shut." He explained, taking her bag and showing her in. "You don't earn much money from a Tavern when there are less than twenty people who drink there."
"Well, maybe with the haulage yard re-opening you'll start to get more business." Kimberly said, approaching the desk. "I'd like a room please."
"I see you've met my dad." The girl on reception responded with a smile. She was taller than Kimberly, and quite skinny, though not unhealthily so. Her pale skin stood out against the thick, dark green sweater that she was wearing. "Can I take your name?"
"Kimberly Goodman." She answered. "Room for one."
"How long for?" She asked.
"I'll pay day-to-day." She answered. "I don't know how long I'll be here."
"Your husband isn't starting at the haulage yard, is he?" Larry asked. "Are you a reporter?"
"Excuse me?" She asked.
"Everyone's keeping a close eye on the haulage yard recently." He told her. "We got a reporter in from New York a couple of days ago. Everyone wants to know what's going on there."
"So are you a reporter?" The girl at the desk asked.
"Yes." Kimberly lied. "I want to see what's going on with Ouvellier."
"Well, we'll help whenever we can." She responded. "I'm Annette."
"Pleased to meet you." Kimberly answered, shaking her hand. "Do you have a room?"
"We've only let out the one to that reporter." Annette stated. "Would you like a view of the mountains? Or the haulage yard?"
"The yard." Kimberly replied, accepting the key.
"Somehow I thought so." She chuckled. "The other reporter said the same thing."
"What's his name?" Kimberly asked. "Maybe I know him."
"Her." Larry corrected her. "Her names Cassandra, or Cassie or something like that."
"Cassidy." Annette groaned at her dad's inability to remember the name of the first guest he'd had in weeks. "Cassidy Cornell."
Kimberly thought hard for a moment. She remembered that name! Thinking back, she suddenly got the image of the steps outside Las Vegas' Supreme Court, and Dr. Black being gunned down in broad daylight. Thinking about it, she remembered a young, blonde reporter with his blood splattered across her face. "Cassidy's here?" She shrieked."
"Do I know you?" A voice came from behind her. Turning around, she saw the same young woman standing a little way in front of her in a large, baggy ski jacket. She crossed over to her, eyeing Kimberly up thoughtfully.
"Go to the bar and order a glass of wine." Larry told her. "It's on the house." He then went upstairs, taking Kimberly's bag to her room.
"My name's Kimberly Goodman." She told the reporter.
"I know that name." She whispered, moving through to the bar with her. "I can't remember why but..."
"Las Vegas." She interrupted her. Cassidy's eyes shot wide as she said this.
"You mean...?" Kimberly nodded. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry." She hugged her warmly as the bar man handed over their drinks.
"We didn't order yet." Kimberly commented, pulling away a little.
"My dad gives everyone a free drink when they arrive." He informed her. "My name's Philippe, I'm the barman, maintenance department and head chef here."
"Kimberly." She introduced herself with a handshake. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." He responded. "Let me know if there's anything you want from the menu." With that, he left them behind.
"I'm here investigating claims that Mr. Ouvellier's guilty of massive tax fraud." Cassidy told Kimberly, taking a sip. "My cameraman, Devin and I have been here for a week or so. What are you doing here?"
Kimberly looked around to make sure no-one was listening and leaned in closer. "I'm chasing up information on the baby thefts." She told her.
Cassidy also looked around, before pulling in close, almost touching forehead-to-forehead. "You think he has something to do with that?"
"I'm still searching for my daughter." Kimberly explained. "I got a lead that suggests he may be involved."
"What kind of lead?" She asked.
"Ouvellier's owned this haulage yard for years." Kimberly continued. "We know that this haulage yard was the drop-off point for the Canadian distributor, the man code-named Eagle."
"Let me guess, you think he was Ouvellier's 'Uncle'." Cassidy stated, miming the quotation marks.
"You know about that?" Kimberly asked.
"Trust me, everyone knows about that." Cassidy answered. "That's why I came here; he used it to avoid a huge bill from the tax authority dating back almost 15 years. I'm trying to prove the link."
"Well I think we need someone on the inside." Kimberly said, pulling out her cell phone. She hit the speed dial function. Cassidy noticed the name on the display.
"You think Dr. O can help?" She asked.
"He knows a lot of people who are no strangers to danger." Kimberly responded in her practiced double-speak. Tommy picked up the phone.
"Kimberly." He greeted her. "David said you might call. What can I do for you?"
"I'm investigating a haulage yard." Kimberly told him. "I need someone with an HGV licence. Do you know someone?"
"I think I do." Tommy said with that usual knowing chuckle he always had when he had a plan in mind. "You'll love him."
"Can I speak to Kira?" Cassidy whispered.
"Cassidy's here." Kimberly informed him. "She wants to speak to Kira."
"Kira's...uh...busy." Tommy told her. Kimberly could almost see Kira waving her arms frantically as she heard this. Tommy had told her that Kira was now the owner of Goldstein's Records, and figured that Cassidy was intending to use her friendship with Kira to get access to the acts on her books. Somehow she got the feeling Cassidy had tried that before. "Anyway, I'll call an old friend."
"Thanks Tommy." Kimberly said, putting away her cell phone.
"Kira's still busy?" Cassidy grumbled. "How can she still be busy? She's been busy for months!"
"She inherited the company." Kimberly reminded her. "When David was setting up the practice I barely saw him over the following two years, and he had a minor in business. Kira's learning everything from scratch."
"Whatever." Cassidy rushed out, waving off the comment. "So do you want a hand? I really think Devin and I can help you out."
"Well you have been observing the haulage yard longer than I have." Kimberly conceded. "Plus it will be pretty hard for them to avoid any charges if their operation is exposed on national television."
"Hey Cassidy." A nervous young man greeted her, sitting down. He was a little skinny, and had long, floppy hair and pale skin. Kimberly presumed this was her cameraman Devin. He kissed her on the cheek as he sat down. "Who's this?"
"Kimberly Goodman." Kim introduced herself with a handshake. "I take it you're Devin."
"That's right." He told her. "So are you a fan?"
"Mrs. Goodman's looking for her daughter." Cassidy told him with a little excitement showing through. Kimberly could forgive her lack of diplomacy for the help she would give her. She realised that this would make a simple tax-evasion story into headline news. "Ouvellier may have been involved in the Las Vegas baby thefts."
"Oh my God, Kimberly I'm so sorry." Devin breathed as the barman gave him a beer. "We'll do anything we can to help."
Really all we can do is continue to observe what he's doing." Kimberly told him. "Other than that, we need to wait for our inside man."
"We have an inside man?" Devin asked, a little puzzled.
"One of Mrs. Goodman's old friends has a truck licence." Cassidy explained. "We're hoping to get him to pose as a driver and get some inside information."
"Undercover work?" Devin remarked with a little smile. "Sweet!"
"We'll meet you back here tomorrow night." Cassidy concluded, finishing her wine. "The haulage yard closes early on a Sunday; everyone will be in here tomorrow evening. We'll share everything we have with you then."
"Hopefully our man will be here by then." Kimberly answered. "Thanks Cassidy."
"Anything we can do to help." Cassidy replied. "Come on Devin, show me what you have."
The following evening, Kimberly made her way into the bar, finding Cassidy and Devin sitting in the corner, observing the characters in the room.
"Kimberly, come over." She yelled, waving her over. "Sit down, we'll show you who everyone is."
As Kimberly sat down, Annette came over. "Mrs. Goodman, someone claiming to be your Husband just entered the reception area." She informed her. Kimberly could hardly believe her eyes as she saw the tall, muscular dark haired man approaching. She hadn't seen him in ages.
"Jason!" She shrieked, leaping into an impassioned hug.
"Nice to see you too honey." He answered. "It's been too long."
As he sat down and Annette left, she gestured to the two younger people. "Jason, this is Cassidy Cornell, the reporter, and her cameraman Devin."
"You've got the press involved already?" He asked, shaking hands with them.
"They've been observing the haulage yard for a couple of weeks now." She explained. "We're hoping that by combining our resources we can bring him down." She pulled a little closer. "Anyway, I didn't know you had a truck licence."
"My son, Austin, loves camping." He explained. "But you know how much Trini hates roughing it, so I had to buy an RV. It's so big I needed a truck licence to be able to drive it."
"Well it's great to see you." She replied, kissing him on the cheek. "How are Trini and Austin?"
"Trini's really enjoying running the juice bar." He told her. "Austin's nearly seven now, he really loves school, he's so smart."
"He takes his brains from his mom's side of the family then." Kimberly replied jokingly. Jason chuckled a little and nodded.
"Well I shouldn't have trouble getting in." Jason told her. "They're hiring so many drivers it's unbelievable. Just about any driver just walks straight into a job."
"Only Ouvellier's guys load the trucks." Devin informed them, showing them some of his pictures. "All the drivers do is deliver the loads; they never even see what's inside. They drive the loads south, and a little over half of the loads come back."
Jason cycled through the photos, confirming what Devin had said. "So we can presume he's shipping something dodgy." He concluded. "How does he get it through customs?"
Cassidy pointed to a tall, brown-haired man in a long coat by the bar. His black trousers with a yellow stripe at the side betrayed the fact he was wearing a Mountie's uniform underneath the coat. "That's Ouvellier's nephew Francoise." She began. "He works on the border guard. Every time one of his Uncle's trucks comes, he just waves them through."
"Surely he has to record at least SOME searches to avoid suspicion." Kimberly stated.
"But those are only forms." Cassidy interjected. "Devin spent two days watching the border. Not one of the trucks got searched."
"Well I'll go in tomorrow." Jason Concluded. "We'll know more when I get a chance to observe those containers. Come on 'sweetheart', let's go to bed."
"Jason, we are both married." She reminded him.
"But we need to share a room to maintain our cover." He answered. "I'll sleep on the floor."
"I'll have a digital camera and a tape recorder for you by the time we come down for breakfast tomorrow." Devin told him. "We'll see you then."