Allison Brennan - Silenced

“Don’t call me ‘sir.’ How long have we been friends?”

“Since I was assigned here. Four years this October.”

“Exactly. It’s yours. I’ll make up something to appease the DC chief. Brief Stockton, I’ll talk to Josh. But he’s your partner on this, keep him in the loop. He’s already deep in all the finances.”

“That’s exactly what he should be doing. In fact, I want him focused on every individual and organization that leased an executive suite in the Park Way building. And the manager, Betty Dare. She’s been there for years, I can’t imagine that she didn’t suspect something with Wendy using the executive apartments. Maybe Wendy bribed her.”

“Talk to her-push her. See if she cracks. If she doesn’t, as soon as Stein gets even a hint of financial shenanigans, we can get a warrant for her finances as well. Right now, we only have a warrant for apartment seven-ten.”

“I have Miriam going through the records from Hawthorne Street and doing a complete background on Ivy Harris.” His phone vibrated. It was an unfamiliar local number.

“Agent Armstrong.”

“Hello?” The voice belonged to an elderly woman. “Hello, Agent Kincaid?”

“This is Agent Noah Armstrong. Who is this?”

“Hello, Agent Armstrong. My name is Patricia Neel,” the woman said slowly. “How are you?”

“We’re kind of busy here. Did you get this number from Ms. Kincaid?”

“The pretty dark-haired girl? Yes, she gave me this card. She wrote her number on the back, but I’ve been calling it and there’s no answer.”

“Can I help you with something?”

“I’ve been robbed.”

“That’s really a matter for the DC police.”

“Well,” Mrs. Neel said, “Agent Kincaid told me if I heard from any of the girls in the pictures, to call her.”

Noah straightened. “And have you?”

“Well, that’s why I’m calling. I went into my family room and the back door was open. It was when I heard all the sirens and I was worried. We get some of those gang kids running in the alley, so I locked the door. Then I noticed my picture was askew. My safe is behind the picture. I opened it and discovered my emergency fund is gone.”

“How much was in it?”

“Five thousand dollars in cash.”

“And who do you think took it?”

“She left me a note saying she’d pay it back when she was able. I don’t want to get her in trouble, but Agent Kincaid thinks she’s in danger.”

Noah squeezed his temples and forced his voice to remain polite. “Who?”

“Well, she didn’t sign it, but I recognized the writing. I’ll read you the note.

“‘Mrs. Neel, I’m so sorry to take your money, but we’re in serious trouble. I promise I will pay you back every dime as soon as I can. Thank you for your kindness. God bless you.’”

“And who wrote it?” he asked for the third time.

“Ivy Harris. Poor girl lost her house and everything in it Tuesday morning. I would have given her the money if she’d asked.”

Now he knew why Ivy Harris had been in the neighborhood earlier that day. “I’m sending an agent over to check your house and retrieve the note. Lock your doors, please.”

“Thank you for your concern, Agent Armstrong. Have a good day.”

Noah hung up. “Ivy Harris stole five thousand in cash from her neighbor. She could be anywhere by now.”

Slater slammed his desk drawer shut. “Shit. I’ll put pressure on that BOLO.”

“Make sure DC knows she’s a witness, not a suspect.”

“You don’t know that she’s not deep in this shit.”

“Lucy said she was terrified and worried about her sister. She might be reckless, but Lucy didn’t think she was dangerous.”

“Let’s get her in custody and decide then if she needs to be in jail or in a safe house.”

Noah left Slater’s office and was heading back to his desk in order to prepare for his meeting with Assistant Director Rick Stockton when he ran into the man himself in the hall.

They shook hands. “How are you, sir?” Noah asked.

“Could be better. We have an ID on the girl from the garage. Her name is Sara Edmonds, and she was reported missing ten days ago by her father. Reverend Kirk Edmonds.”

“The televangelist?”

“The one and the same. The Baltimore office showed him the picture and he positively identified her. He also identified the brunette.”

“Ivy Harris.”

“Wrong. Hannah Edmonds. His middle daughter, who he thought was dead.” Rick said. “Tell me you have her in custody.”

“No, sir.”

“He’ll be here in the morning. This is going to be a media nightmare.”

“Because his daughter ran away?”

“He says Hannah kidnapped Sara. He says she’s mentally unbalanced. When she was fourteen, she stopped taking doctor-prescribed antidepressants and threatened suicide. He thought she’d killed herself when he found her clothes and blood in a car she stole.”

“What did the police say?”

“Same thing. The car was found near the lake, she was known to be suicidal, and her older sister found Hannah’s prescription bottle empty. Ten days ago, Sara disappeared in the middle of the night. Our people treated it as a kidnapping, but there were no clues-no trace evidence, no witnesses, no ransom note, nothing.”

Slater stepped out of his office. “I heard about that case. There was some speculation that she might have had a boyfriend?”

“Nothing confirmed,” Stockton said. “I have the local agent assigned to the case coming in with Reverend Edmonds. She’ll have more insight about the Edmonds family.”

“This changes everything,” Slater said.

Noah said, “We can’t assume anything in this case. We assumed there was no connection between the three murders, and now we know there is.”

“It’s a theory, Noah,” Slater said. “We have no hard evidence that links Wendy James to Ivy Harris or the other crime scene.”

Stockton said, “I’m very interested in these new developments, but we have a recent sighting of a missing minor, fourteen, who may be in danger, and that takes precedence over all else.”

“Understood,” Noah said.

“How’s Lucy?”

“She’ll be fine.”

“Good. Debrief her as soon as possible. She’s the only one who’s talked to Hannah Edmonds.” He glanced at his watch. “Let’s get this done, I have ten minutes until the press conference.”

Sean walked into Senator Jonathon Paxton’s office in the Dirksen Building without an invitation or an appointment.

“Mr. Rogan,” the receptionist followed him. “Mr. Rogan, Senator Paxton’s in a meeting.”

Sean opened the door. Paxton was on the phone. “I’ll see you then, Agent Armstrong,” Paxton said and hung up.

“Tell me the truth,” Sean said.

The senator said to the receptionist, “It’s fine, Ann. Sean is working on a project for me. Let me know when Agent Armstrong arrives.”

Ann left, closing the door behind her, though the concern didn’t leave her face.

Paxton said, “Hello, Sean. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here.”

“Tell me about Ivy Harris .”

The senator narrowed his gaze. “Do I detect an implication in your tone that I have been less than truthful?”

“You’ll detect a hell of a lot more, and you’ll see it on the five o’clock news, if you don’t tell me the truth now. ”

“Noah Armstrong informed me that Lucy was in a car accident. How is she?”

“Alive.”

“I don’t understand your hostility, Sean.”

“Stay away from Lucy.”

“What happened?” Paxton lost his fake politeness. “You come into my office with an accusatory tone and tell me to stay away from a friend?”