Rick Mofina - Whirlwind

Shelby replayed the details again and again then hit the pause button for the part of the report that displayed all four images at once.

“Damn,” he said aloud.

“Excuse me?”

Two older women were standing at the counter, waiting to check out.

“I’m sorry, ladies, just caught up in the news,” Shelby said. “How was everything?”

“Fine,” the taller one said.

“The bed was lumpy-you need to get a new mattress,” her friend said.

“Our apologies, I’ll take ten percent off your account. And how will you be settling with us today?”

The taller one placed her credit card on the counter. Shelby processed their bill, provided a receipt and thanked them. Then he resumed studying the report.

Hell, I think it’s them, he said to himself. I think they’re here .

Unit 21. That couple with the baby. They were arguing yesterday, disturbing everyone near them, prompting complaints.

Shelby’s fingers clicked on the keyboard and he looked up their account. Luke and Ashley Johnson. They didn’t list the baby’s name, which was fine. They gave their address as Houston, no other details. They paid cash in advance to last five nights.

They haven’t checked out yet.

Shelby scratched his beard.

He looked under the counter at the small TV screen that displayed images from the motel’s security cameras. The insurance company insisted the owners install them, but they went with a cheaper system. Shelby manipulated the images to show the view of the lot and unit doors by the north side, including Unit 21. Their pickup truck was gone.

Blinking, Shelby gave the situation more consideration.

Then he reached under the counter for the little laminated clock sign and set it to read: Be Back in 10 Minutes.

He walked along the north side of the motel, coming to Unit 21. He pressed his ear to the door and heard voices, quickly determining that it was the TV over the drone of the air conditioner.

Someone’s in there.

Walking back to the office, Shelby recalled how the woman definitely had red spiky hair when they checked in and that maybe she changed it, made it darker-he wasn’t sure, but she definitely had a baby that was screaming. She was definitely with a man who had the height, build and tattoos that fit the description. By the time he’d returned to the office he was convinced that the young woman and man wanted by the FBI were in Unit 21.

First, Shelby had to take care of the guests who were at his counter waiting to check out. Once he finished their transactions, he reached for his phone.

His pulse quickened as he pressed 911.

Dallas, Texas

The day after Kate Page broke the story on the FBI’s investigation into the baby’s case, she arrived at her desk at 6:45 a.m.

The stream of radio dispatches coming from the emergency scanners echoed in the morning calm of the desolate newsroom. At this hour, the only other person in the bureau was Tommy Koop, the news assistant, who was listening to the scanners.

After settling in, Kate sifted through her notes and the business cards she’d collected. Like a miner panning for gold, she searched for a new lead for her story. Given that the FBI had blitzed the press last night with an appeal for help in Caleb Cooper’s case, the first person she reached out to was FBI Special Agent Phil Grogan. She’d established a good relationship with him at the shelter and emailed him.

Hi, Agent Grogan: Are there any breaks rising from the appeal? I’m willing to discuss trading any data that comes our way.-Kate Page, Newslead

Most investigators, the good ones, wanted to keep all channels of information open.

Kate went online and stared at the sketches of the woman and man wanted by the FBI.

Who are these people? We’ve got to be getting closer to finding out what happened to the baby . Something’s got to break on this.

Dr. Butler at the shelter had given Kate her phone number, so she texted her, as well.

Kate sent messages to Jenna and Blake Cooper, and Jenna’s sister, Holly, asking if there were any developments. As she began checking local news outlets and other news agencies to see if anyone had advanced her story, a large mug of steaming coffee appeared on her desk.

“Congratulations.” Tommy stood before her. “Your item got play everywhere- Boston Globe, Miami Herald, New York Daily News, Denver Post, Los Angeles Times . It was tweeted like crazy. Nice work.”

“Thanks, Tommy. What’s happening on the scanners?”

“Not much, the usual rush-hour traffic problems.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it, so far. You know, Kate, your story blew Roy and Mandy out of the water. I don’t think Dorothea had counted on you being so good.”

“Kind of you to say. But in this business, you’re only as good as your last story. Roy and Mandy are strong reporters.”

“When the internship ends they’d be crazy if they don’t hire you.”

The scanners flared.

“Is something up?” Kate had put in enough years on the police desk to know how to keep an ear cocked for the telltale signs of emotion or urgency seeping into a dispatcher’s voice.

Tommy turned his attention to the scanners.

“Not sure,” he said. “There was a noninjury four-car pileup on LBJ causing a lot of headaches. I’ll check it out.”

He returned to his desk.

Several long minutes passed and all seemed quiet. Tommy continued concentrating on the flow of transmissions.

As Kate resumed working, her screen saver displayed her daughter’s smiling face, and she was struck with a sudden, overwhelming need to hold her. It felt as if they’d been apart for a lifetime. Kate glanced at the time. It was an hour later in Ohio. She checked to see if any of her sources had responded yet. No one had.

She texted her friend Heather in Canton.

Hi, Heather. I’m missing Grace. Is now a good time to call her?

Heather’s response came back within seconds.

Sure is. I’ll give her the phone. You hanging in there?

Doing my best. Calling now.

A moment later, Kate’s heart swelled when she heard her daughter’s voice on her cell phone.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, sweetheart. Did you have a good sleep?”

“Yup.”

“I forgot to ask you last night, did you have fun at the movie with Aubrey and your friends?”

“ Uh-hhuhh, and guess what happened?”

Kate’s computer pinged with a message from Chuck:

Good story, Kate. What’ve you got for a follow today?

Kate held her cell phone to her ear with her shoulder and typed:

Working on it. Checking with sources.

“What happened, sweetie?” she asked her daughter.

“Well,” Grace said, “Billy Franklin tried to hold Aubrey’s hand. I think he’s in love with her because he said she was pretty.”

Chuck responded:

Keep digging. We own this story and need to stay in front.

Kate’s focus shifted to Tommy who’d increased the volume of the scanners and was now taking note of some of the dispatches.

“And what did Aubrey do?”

“She told him boys are smelly.”

Tommy was now headed for Kate’s desk with a note in his hand.

“Oh, that’s all so silly. Listen, sweetie, I’m sorry but I have to go now. I miss you and I love you a whole bunch.”

“I miss you and I love you, too.”

Kate hung up. “What’s up, Tommy?”

“Dallas SWAT is rolling on a location in the southeast. It came in through 911. They think the two people are in a motel.”

“Got an address?” Kate stood, collecting her things.

“I’m working on it. I’ve alerted Mark Danson. He was on his way here when he heard it on his scanner. He’ll pick you up downstairs, out front in ten minutes.”