Author's note: Thanks to DM and and KM for their beta-ing skills. And KM -
thanks for not letting me get away with what I knew was a cheap way out!
The comments and crits are very appreciated. Thank you. Writers write to be read, and comments let us know that's happening. MidnightCaller, EOlivet...Thanks for the words of encouragement. Wow.
As for the questions about where Martin is in this story: he isn't. This story takes place only about a year after Sam joined the team. Martin didn't arrive until 4 years or so later.
Have a good week, everyone.
Shelter Chapter 6 By: Mariel
When Brenda Hood didn't answer her phone, Danny Taylor asked Vivian and Pete to check in with some of her neighbours before returning to the office. There was always the chance that someone in her building knew where she was, or had seen something that might be useful.
Walking into his office with Danny following, Jack nodded in approval. "Good going," he said. Taking off his overcoat and hanging it on the coat tree, he turned back and eyed the younger agent with a hint of a smile. "That maybe redeems you for the cell phone battery thing." Sobering, he asked, "How long ago did you talk to the two of them?"
"Half an hour, or so ago. They said they'd call as soon as they had any information. I figure it'll be an hour at least before we hear from them. While I'm waiting, I plan to run a check on her credit cards and bank accounts."
Jack nodded. Looking at his desk, he said, "I've got a call to make and some paperwork to finish. Get Samantha to help you, and I'll meet with you both in about forty-five minutes."
Once the door had closed behind Danny, Jack sat down at his desk and stared at the phone. Tonight would make it three nights in a row he'd called and told his wife he wouldn't be home until late, the third day in a row his daughters had not seen him because he'd arrived home too late to say good night and left too early to say good morning. He knew it wasn't the way it should be, knew it wasn't fair to his wife or the girls, and could even understand his wife's hurt and anger. But they were safe and warm and cared for. A bold, vivid picture of Emma Matthews skittered across his mind. Reaching for the phone, his fingers touched the cool black plastic and he paused, wondering where she was, and what, if anything, Brenda Hood had to do with her disappearance. He glanced at his watch, again mentally calculating how long it was until that critical forty-eight hours. Unconsciously inhaling a little more deeply, he picked up the receiver to call his wife.
* * *
THIRTY-FIVE HOURS MISSING 7:30 p.m.
"They should be here in about fifteen minutes," Danny replied when Jack walked out of his office and asked if he'd heard from Vivian and Pete.
"Good," Jack said. Glancing at the white board, he took his place at the conference table and asked, "Did you two learn anything?"
"She used a bank machine about two o'clock this afternoon on Canal Street, near the Holland Tunnel," Samantha offered, her eyes briefly meeting Jack's. "She took out two hundred dollars, and I've requisitioned a video tape of the transaction to see if she was alone or with someone. It'll be hours, though, before it gets here."
"Her credit charges are pretty mundane," Danny said. "She doesn't show anything for today, yet, and it'll be hard to say for sure what she did until sometime tomorrow." He tapped his pen on the table nervously, eager to go over the information that Vivian and Pete had eked out during their visit to Brenda Hood's building. Jack watched with a slight smile, knowing it was killing him to not start without them. Sticking to his decision to avoid repetition - and heaven knew with Pete, there would be plenty of that anyway - he stood and went to the white board, refusing to discuss the two agents' findings until they arrived themselves. Picking up a marker, he drew a couple dark lines and began filling in what little new information they had garnered during that afternoon's investigation.
He had barely finished when the sound of the elevator door opening and the murmur of familiar voices made him turn. Vivian and Pete were back. Removing their coats as they walked, they both put them on their respective chairs and hastened to join the others.
Once they were settled in their seats, Jack had only to raise an enquiring eyebrow to start the flow of information he had been waiting for.
"We were lucky, and found a few of the neighbours at home right away," Vivian told them. "One of them remembered her saying something about taking a few days off to go up north to her cabin. I've already called to have someone do the research on that. If she owns property somewhere, it would be a natural place for her to go with the child."
"Another neighbour mentioned seeing her put a couple of suitcases in her car yesterday, so she must have gone there," Pete piped up, obviously eager to contribute to the meeting. His blue eyes gleaming with excitement, he continued, "She took the kid. She must have."
Vivian, who had suffered earlier through a few hours of listening to his theory about how a child molester had obviously picked her up, smiled and looked down. It was fine to come up with theories, but you couldn't jump on them like you would a bandwagon. It prevented you from seeing the whole picture, and it was often through seeing the whole picture that you found that one, small piece of information that eventually led to an unexpected twist and to a case solved.
Jack sat back in his chair and looked at Pete gravely. "Not necessarily," he said, trying to curb the young man's enthusiasm gently. "It could be a coincidence. Coincidences happen at an astonishing rate. We'll follow this lead, but we still need to keep our minds and eyes open." Turning to glance at Samantha, he said, "We need to check her work to see if this was a planned time off."
Vivian and Pete resumed their account of what they had learned. All in all, it had been quite a bit. Cutting into Pete's discourse on something they'd already discussed, Vivian said, "Brenda's lived in that building more than ten years. Her neighbours to each side and across the hall have been there roughly the same time. That meant they actually knew each other. They say she went to her cabin fairly regularly. One person we need to speak with wasn't home." She looked at her notes. "Charlene Waugh. Apparently they are very good friends. A couple of people we spoke to said that Charlene was the most likely person to know where Brenda is. We've left word that we want to speak to her as soon as she gets in."
Jack nodded. "Vivian, I want you to be the one to talk to her. And check to see if we know where that cabin is, yet." Moving to recap his pen, he continued, "We need to look at Brenda's apartment. Vivian, Pete, take care of getting the warrant for that, and then go take a look around. If you're lucky, Ms. Waugh will be home when you get there. If it looks as though we need to, Samantha and I will head up to the cabin. For now, we'll be at Social Services, looking into Brenda's work history. Danny, I want you to keep trying to reach Nancy Shelby. I want to speak with her, regardless. Keep an eye on Brenda's financial records, too. We need to know if she's on her way to the cabin or headed somewhere else. If she's taken her car, she has to buy gas somewhere. Hopefully, she'll use a credit card." He paused to look at them all, then finished, "It looks like this will be another late night. Sorry, people."
***
Back in the Social Services Building, Samantha looked around the small meeting room she and Jack had been ushered into. A large white board was placed on one pale green wall, and two easels with large paper pads stood in front of another. Functional chrome and orange-vinyl chairs surrounded a large circular veneer-topped table. Placed in front of two of the chairs were several piles of beige file folders. She expected that they contained the cases that Brenda had been responsible for over the past year or more. Turning to the woman who had led them in, she said, "Thank you for coming in. We really appreciate it."
Melissa Manchester nodded her dark haired head. "Brenda has worked with us for years. I find it hard to believe she could have anything to do with this, but I can hardly say no when the FBI says it wants something." A smile softened the words, just as it was meant to.
"We understand that," Jack said, "but we need to look at every possibility."
She looked from one agent to the other agent, her grey eyes gently assessing them, then waved a slender fingered hand towards the door leading to the corridor. "I'm going to get some paperwork. I'll bring it back here so that if you have any questions you won't have to go looking for me." Smiling, she left.
Sitting in the chairs Melissa indicated were for them, Jack and Samantha began to silently peruse the records Brenda's supervisor had placed out for them.
Melissa returned and sat quietly at the far side of the table. Time passed without their noticing as the pile of documents gone through grew. Finally, after a long period of silence, Samantha frowned. One of the names sounded familiar. Looking up, she said, "Gregory Browning. That name sounds awfully familiar."
Melissa responded immediately. "Greg Browning. He was the little boy who went missing about six months ago. He was outside playing with some kids, told them he was going in to get something to drink, and was never seen again. He was one of Brenda's. She was very upset at the time." She shook her head. "I remember her saying he was one of those great kids who really deserved a break."
Jack and Samantha shared a glance, their pulses quickening. There had been other children go missing over the past couple of years. Though Brenda Hood's name had never come up, they remembered that more than one of them had been in foster care at one point or another. Jack took out his cell phone. Punching in a speed dial number, he waited a moment, then said, "Danny. I need the names of every unsolved disappearance of a child under twelve in the past three years." He paused, then said, "Oh, good. I think we'll be taking a visit there tonight after all. Give me the address and directions." Listening intently, he scribbled on the notepad in front of him, then said a quick goodbye.
"Do you remember if any other children under her care have disappeared?" he asked, not commenting on the conversation he'd just had.
Melissa frowned. "Brenda wouldn't harm a hair on the head of any of her kids. She's one of the most dedicated workers I've ever had the pleasure to work with. She couldn't possibly-"
Firmly, Jack cut her off. "I believe you. I need my question answered, though."
"I'd have to look through the records, but I don't think so." She paused, obviously not happy with where the questioning was leading. "Children have gone missing over the years, of course. I'm sure you have worked on some of the cases. I don't think all of them have been located, but often we strongly suspect that they've been taken by a non-custodial parent, or by a relative or something. And sometimes a parent just up and leaves without telling us. There are all sorts of explanations for a child not being where we think they should be. It doesn't mean that they aren't perfectly safe."
"Yes, but if you could look, we'd be grateful," Samantha prodded gently.
The social worker nodded and shrugged thin shoulders. "I don't think there are, but I'll dig around. It might take a while."
"Do the best you can," Jack said patiently, "We'll be here."
Half an hour later, Melissa returned with several files and a paper on which she'd written the names of children and when they had disappeared. When Samantha and Jack went through the files they quickly realised that, though not directly linked to all the children, Brenda Hood had had contact, at one time or another, and for one reason or another, with six children who had gone missing during the past five years.
Jack's phone rang. Answering it, he jotted down the names Danny recited, noting as he did so that the children whose case files they'd just read were on the list. None had been found. A sense of urgency washed through him.
If it was Brenda Hood who had caused these children to disappear, whatever she was doing appeared to be permanent.
After he hung up, he quietly pushed the list of names he'd written across the table to Samantha.
After looking at it briefly, she raised concerned eyes to meet his. "We need to get to that cabin," Samantha said in a low tone.
Jack nodded. There are coincidences, and then there are coincidences. They'd be crazy to ignore this one.
End Chapter 6 Shelter
The comments and crits are very appreciated. Thank you. Writers write to be read, and comments let us know that's happening. MidnightCaller, EOlivet...Thanks for the words of encouragement. Wow.
As for the questions about where Martin is in this story: he isn't. This story takes place only about a year after Sam joined the team. Martin didn't arrive until 4 years or so later.
Have a good week, everyone.
Shelter Chapter 6 By: Mariel
When Brenda Hood didn't answer her phone, Danny Taylor asked Vivian and Pete to check in with some of her neighbours before returning to the office. There was always the chance that someone in her building knew where she was, or had seen something that might be useful.
Walking into his office with Danny following, Jack nodded in approval. "Good going," he said. Taking off his overcoat and hanging it on the coat tree, he turned back and eyed the younger agent with a hint of a smile. "That maybe redeems you for the cell phone battery thing." Sobering, he asked, "How long ago did you talk to the two of them?"
"Half an hour, or so ago. They said they'd call as soon as they had any information. I figure it'll be an hour at least before we hear from them. While I'm waiting, I plan to run a check on her credit cards and bank accounts."
Jack nodded. Looking at his desk, he said, "I've got a call to make and some paperwork to finish. Get Samantha to help you, and I'll meet with you both in about forty-five minutes."
Once the door had closed behind Danny, Jack sat down at his desk and stared at the phone. Tonight would make it three nights in a row he'd called and told his wife he wouldn't be home until late, the third day in a row his daughters had not seen him because he'd arrived home too late to say good night and left too early to say good morning. He knew it wasn't the way it should be, knew it wasn't fair to his wife or the girls, and could even understand his wife's hurt and anger. But they were safe and warm and cared for. A bold, vivid picture of Emma Matthews skittered across his mind. Reaching for the phone, his fingers touched the cool black plastic and he paused, wondering where she was, and what, if anything, Brenda Hood had to do with her disappearance. He glanced at his watch, again mentally calculating how long it was until that critical forty-eight hours. Unconsciously inhaling a little more deeply, he picked up the receiver to call his wife.
* * *
THIRTY-FIVE HOURS MISSING 7:30 p.m.
"They should be here in about fifteen minutes," Danny replied when Jack walked out of his office and asked if he'd heard from Vivian and Pete.
"Good," Jack said. Glancing at the white board, he took his place at the conference table and asked, "Did you two learn anything?"
"She used a bank machine about two o'clock this afternoon on Canal Street, near the Holland Tunnel," Samantha offered, her eyes briefly meeting Jack's. "She took out two hundred dollars, and I've requisitioned a video tape of the transaction to see if she was alone or with someone. It'll be hours, though, before it gets here."
"Her credit charges are pretty mundane," Danny said. "She doesn't show anything for today, yet, and it'll be hard to say for sure what she did until sometime tomorrow." He tapped his pen on the table nervously, eager to go over the information that Vivian and Pete had eked out during their visit to Brenda Hood's building. Jack watched with a slight smile, knowing it was killing him to not start without them. Sticking to his decision to avoid repetition - and heaven knew with Pete, there would be plenty of that anyway - he stood and went to the white board, refusing to discuss the two agents' findings until they arrived themselves. Picking up a marker, he drew a couple dark lines and began filling in what little new information they had garnered during that afternoon's investigation.
He had barely finished when the sound of the elevator door opening and the murmur of familiar voices made him turn. Vivian and Pete were back. Removing their coats as they walked, they both put them on their respective chairs and hastened to join the others.
Once they were settled in their seats, Jack had only to raise an enquiring eyebrow to start the flow of information he had been waiting for.
"We were lucky, and found a few of the neighbours at home right away," Vivian told them. "One of them remembered her saying something about taking a few days off to go up north to her cabin. I've already called to have someone do the research on that. If she owns property somewhere, it would be a natural place for her to go with the child."
"Another neighbour mentioned seeing her put a couple of suitcases in her car yesterday, so she must have gone there," Pete piped up, obviously eager to contribute to the meeting. His blue eyes gleaming with excitement, he continued, "She took the kid. She must have."
Vivian, who had suffered earlier through a few hours of listening to his theory about how a child molester had obviously picked her up, smiled and looked down. It was fine to come up with theories, but you couldn't jump on them like you would a bandwagon. It prevented you from seeing the whole picture, and it was often through seeing the whole picture that you found that one, small piece of information that eventually led to an unexpected twist and to a case solved.
Jack sat back in his chair and looked at Pete gravely. "Not necessarily," he said, trying to curb the young man's enthusiasm gently. "It could be a coincidence. Coincidences happen at an astonishing rate. We'll follow this lead, but we still need to keep our minds and eyes open." Turning to glance at Samantha, he said, "We need to check her work to see if this was a planned time off."
Vivian and Pete resumed their account of what they had learned. All in all, it had been quite a bit. Cutting into Pete's discourse on something they'd already discussed, Vivian said, "Brenda's lived in that building more than ten years. Her neighbours to each side and across the hall have been there roughly the same time. That meant they actually knew each other. They say she went to her cabin fairly regularly. One person we need to speak with wasn't home." She looked at her notes. "Charlene Waugh. Apparently they are very good friends. A couple of people we spoke to said that Charlene was the most likely person to know where Brenda is. We've left word that we want to speak to her as soon as she gets in."
Jack nodded. "Vivian, I want you to be the one to talk to her. And check to see if we know where that cabin is, yet." Moving to recap his pen, he continued, "We need to look at Brenda's apartment. Vivian, Pete, take care of getting the warrant for that, and then go take a look around. If you're lucky, Ms. Waugh will be home when you get there. If it looks as though we need to, Samantha and I will head up to the cabin. For now, we'll be at Social Services, looking into Brenda's work history. Danny, I want you to keep trying to reach Nancy Shelby. I want to speak with her, regardless. Keep an eye on Brenda's financial records, too. We need to know if she's on her way to the cabin or headed somewhere else. If she's taken her car, she has to buy gas somewhere. Hopefully, she'll use a credit card." He paused to look at them all, then finished, "It looks like this will be another late night. Sorry, people."
***
Back in the Social Services Building, Samantha looked around the small meeting room she and Jack had been ushered into. A large white board was placed on one pale green wall, and two easels with large paper pads stood in front of another. Functional chrome and orange-vinyl chairs surrounded a large circular veneer-topped table. Placed in front of two of the chairs were several piles of beige file folders. She expected that they contained the cases that Brenda had been responsible for over the past year or more. Turning to the woman who had led them in, she said, "Thank you for coming in. We really appreciate it."
Melissa Manchester nodded her dark haired head. "Brenda has worked with us for years. I find it hard to believe she could have anything to do with this, but I can hardly say no when the FBI says it wants something." A smile softened the words, just as it was meant to.
"We understand that," Jack said, "but we need to look at every possibility."
She looked from one agent to the other agent, her grey eyes gently assessing them, then waved a slender fingered hand towards the door leading to the corridor. "I'm going to get some paperwork. I'll bring it back here so that if you have any questions you won't have to go looking for me." Smiling, she left.
Sitting in the chairs Melissa indicated were for them, Jack and Samantha began to silently peruse the records Brenda's supervisor had placed out for them.
Melissa returned and sat quietly at the far side of the table. Time passed without their noticing as the pile of documents gone through grew. Finally, after a long period of silence, Samantha frowned. One of the names sounded familiar. Looking up, she said, "Gregory Browning. That name sounds awfully familiar."
Melissa responded immediately. "Greg Browning. He was the little boy who went missing about six months ago. He was outside playing with some kids, told them he was going in to get something to drink, and was never seen again. He was one of Brenda's. She was very upset at the time." She shook her head. "I remember her saying he was one of those great kids who really deserved a break."
Jack and Samantha shared a glance, their pulses quickening. There had been other children go missing over the past couple of years. Though Brenda Hood's name had never come up, they remembered that more than one of them had been in foster care at one point or another. Jack took out his cell phone. Punching in a speed dial number, he waited a moment, then said, "Danny. I need the names of every unsolved disappearance of a child under twelve in the past three years." He paused, then said, "Oh, good. I think we'll be taking a visit there tonight after all. Give me the address and directions." Listening intently, he scribbled on the notepad in front of him, then said a quick goodbye.
"Do you remember if any other children under her care have disappeared?" he asked, not commenting on the conversation he'd just had.
Melissa frowned. "Brenda wouldn't harm a hair on the head of any of her kids. She's one of the most dedicated workers I've ever had the pleasure to work with. She couldn't possibly-"
Firmly, Jack cut her off. "I believe you. I need my question answered, though."
"I'd have to look through the records, but I don't think so." She paused, obviously not happy with where the questioning was leading. "Children have gone missing over the years, of course. I'm sure you have worked on some of the cases. I don't think all of them have been located, but often we strongly suspect that they've been taken by a non-custodial parent, or by a relative or something. And sometimes a parent just up and leaves without telling us. There are all sorts of explanations for a child not being where we think they should be. It doesn't mean that they aren't perfectly safe."
"Yes, but if you could look, we'd be grateful," Samantha prodded gently.
The social worker nodded and shrugged thin shoulders. "I don't think there are, but I'll dig around. It might take a while."
"Do the best you can," Jack said patiently, "We'll be here."
Half an hour later, Melissa returned with several files and a paper on which she'd written the names of children and when they had disappeared. When Samantha and Jack went through the files they quickly realised that, though not directly linked to all the children, Brenda Hood had had contact, at one time or another, and for one reason or another, with six children who had gone missing during the past five years.
Jack's phone rang. Answering it, he jotted down the names Danny recited, noting as he did so that the children whose case files they'd just read were on the list. None had been found. A sense of urgency washed through him.
If it was Brenda Hood who had caused these children to disappear, whatever she was doing appeared to be permanent.
After he hung up, he quietly pushed the list of names he'd written across the table to Samantha.
After looking at it briefly, she raised concerned eyes to meet his. "We need to get to that cabin," Samantha said in a low tone.
Jack nodded. There are coincidences, and then there are coincidences. They'd be crazy to ignore this one.
End Chapter 6 Shelter