Code name puck k19 allie.., p.17
Code Name: Puck (K19 Allied Intelligence Team Two), page 17
“I’ll pick you up at zero seven thirty.”
Rather than argue, I thanked him, then took the lift up to my floor. When I opened the door, my father was waiting, looking as haggard as I felt.
“I’ve got the full support of SIS. Briefing at zero eight hundred, where we’ll craft the mission.”
My dad rushed over to me, and we embraced. “You have no idea how relieved I am, son.”
“I think I do.”
He smiled.
“I need a hot shower and then every minute of sleep I can get.”
“Agreed. And, Sven, I know we haven’t found her yet, but in my bones, I feel like we’re going to very soon.”
“Me too, Dad.”
28
SESHAT
From New York City, my mother, baby, and I moved to a small house on Long Island. While it was run-down, it was livable.
That was the typical pattern for our relocation—one extreme to the other. Each had its advantages. It was easier to go unnoticed in a metropolitan area. In a place with a smaller population, someone who didn’t belong was easier to spot. My mum typically chose places on the fringes of a village since the rent was cheaper for a house rather than an apartment. Sometimes, it even had vacant land around it.
We’d been in such a place a little over a month when I noticed a car pass by more than once, two days in a row. Given we lived on a side road with very little traffic, I became increasingly unsettled about it.
After a sleepless night, I got up and went into the kitchen, surprised my mother wasn’t in it. I walked through the house to her bedroom, stunned when I found her in bed. “Mum?”
When she didn’t answer, I walked over and found her still asleep. Her face was flushed, so I felt her forehead. She was definitely feverish, and while she was perspiring, she was also shivering.
“Mum?” I said again.
She opened her eyes. “Not well,” she mumbled.
“What are your symptoms?”
“Headache. So tired.”
We both heard the baby’s cry.
“Take care of her. I’ll be okay. Just need rest.”
I left her room and went into the one Linnea and I shared. When I picked her up from the crib, she too was feverish. I carried her into the kitchen, and from the corner of my eye, I saw the same car pass again, this time going slower.
Linnea’s cries intensified, and my own eyes filled with tears. As exhausted as I was, I still knew we had to leave. I felt it in my bones. With both my mother and baby ill, we were more at risk than usual. But where would we go? The only place I could think of was back to the apartment in the city. The lease wasn’t up for another five months. But what if whoever I’d seen driving by followed us there?
“Mum, I think someone is watching the house.”
She forced herself upright. “We must leave.”
“I know.”
“Get whatever the baby needs from the kitchen, and I’ll pack what I can.” Most of what we traveled with was already in the car. It was how we lived. Ready to flee at a moment’s notice.
I nodded and raced into the other room with Linnea in my arms. She’d stopped crying and had fallen asleep, but she still felt overly warm to me.
I grabbed the supplemental formula I kept on hand for her in case of an emergency and pulled out my phone. My mother would be furious with me for what I was about to do, but that couldn’t matter now. Maybe she’d never needed help, but I did. I couldn’t live this way, and I didn’t want Linnea to either. I raced into the bathroom and sent a message to Penelope, saying I wasn’t able to talk, but I needed help.
What’s wrong? she responded right away. I heard my mum pass by in the hallway and shoved my phone in my back pocket.
After putting Linnea in the car seat and getting my mother settled, I raced back into the house, keeping my eye on our vehicle and the road in front of the house at the same time.
I rang Penelope’s number, and she picked up right away.
“I’m so sorry to do this, but I need help.”
“What can I do?”
“My mum and my baby are sick.” My voice cracked. “We’re being watched. A car keeps going by the house.”
“Where are you?”
“On Long Island, in Patchogue.”
“Have you called the police?”
“No police.”
“Understood. Tell me how I can help.”
“I want to return to our place in the city, but I’m afraid we’ll be followed.”
“Meet me at the coffee shop in the market on Grant Street. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
While we waited, I was able to get my mother to take something to reduce her fever and drink some water. She was angry but didn’t seem to have enough strength to argue.
When she folded her arms on the table, rested her head on them, and closed her eyes, I pulled out my mobile and did something I knew I had to do. I sent a message to Sven, telling him about the baby and begging for his help.
When I saw Penelope walk in the door of the market, I glanced at my mum, whose head remained down. I got up, carrying the baby, and met her halfway. “I’m sorry—”
“Stop right there. First, no apologies. Second, you only have to tell me what you want me to know.”
“Thank you. I need to get back to the city.”
“I understand. Where are your things?”
“In the car, but…”
“You’re afraid whoever is following you is watching.”
I nodded.
“I have someone who can assist us. I promise you can trust him.”
I didn’t know what to do. I knew my mother would never have allowed anyone to help her.
“Look, we can do this without him if it makes you uncomfortable. I haven’t told him I was meeting someone yet.”
“What would he do?”
“First, is that a car seat?”
I’d removed the carrier and put the base in my bag. “It is.”
“Good. I’m in the parking structure about a block away. We can leave now. I’ll ask my friend to wait until we’re a safe distance away, then he’ll come for your vehicle.”
“I don’t want to put anyone else in danger.”
“I understand,” she repeated. “Let’s get on the road. We can figure out what to do about your car later.”
“Okay.”
I rested my cheek against Linnea’s forehead, relieved when she didn’t feel as warm.
“Mum, we’re ready to leave,” I said, resting my free hand on her shoulder. “She’s burning up,” I said, looking up at Penelope. “We need to get her to hospital.”
“Do you think you and I can get her to my car?”
“Not carrying the baby too.”
“Please let me ask my friend for help, Julie.”
The day we first met, I’d given her the name that had been on my passport when we traveled from Glasgow to Chicago.
I looked down at my mum, knowing I had no choice. I’d already gone this far, asking Penelope for help. If this was a trap, we were already too far into it.
“Where is your friend?” I asked.
“About a block away, waiting for me at the ferry landing. I told him I had to grab something at the store.”
My eyes opened wide.
“Don’t worry, if you didn’t want his help, I would’ve come up with some story about having to run over to my mother’s. He can’t stand her, so he would’ve offered to catch up with me later.”
My eyes scrunched. “You don’t seem fazed by any of this.”
“Julie—”
“My name is DeDe,” I whispered. With all she was doing to help me, I felt awful that I’d lied to her.
“DeDe, then. While I don’t know much about your situation, I had a friend who went through something similar. Two friends, actually.”
I nodded. “Again, I’m sorry.”
“I told you before, don’t apologize. I’ll go pick up Brand. It won’t take more than five minutes. Then, we’ll figure out whether your mom can make it into the city or if we have to take her to hospital here.”
It was a ninety-minute drive to the apartment, which meant it would also take that long to get to hospital there. Taking her to an emergency room here, on Long Island, seemed too risky, though. I just prayed my mother’s fever wouldn’t get worse.
As promised, Penelope returned in under five minutes. This time, she came in via the market’s rear entrance. “Take the baby to the car. Brand will stay with you until you’re settled, then he’ll come help me with your mom.”
“I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Your art. My gallery.” She smiled and winked.
I smiled too and hurried to get the car seat into the vehicle and Linnea strapped into it.
By the time we reached the city, my mother was worse. Rather than going to the apartment, we went straight to hospital. We waited while Brand went inside to get a wheelchair, then helped my mum into it.
“Is your mother’s ID in here?” he asked, pointing to her handbag.
“It is.”
“Insurance?”
I shook my head. “We’ll pay cash.”
He leaned closer to my mum. “Let’s go see the doctor, okay?”
Her head hung forward, but she managed to nod.
“Can you tell me your name?” It was the first he’d asked it of any of us, and Penelope hadn’t made introductions.
“Cherrie Smith,” I answered for her, knowing that was the ID she was carrying.
“You take them to the apartment. I’ll stay here with Mrs. Smith and call you as soon as I know anything.”
“Is that all right with you?” Penelope asked.
Before answering, I looked at Brand. “Are you sure?”
“You don’t want to bring the baby into an emergency room. I promise I’ll be in touch as soon as I know anything.”
Once he and my mum were inside, Penelope drove to the apartment building.
“My place or yours?” she asked once we were in the underground car park.
I was about to tell her she didn’t need to stay with me when it dawned on me that Brand would contact her with any updates about my mum.
“Yours would be easier with the baby,” she said when I still hadn’t answered.
“It would be. Thank you. Unfortunately, there isn’t much there besides furniture.” We’d rented the place furnished, so all we were missing were our personal items, clothes, and food.
“When’s the last time you ate?” she asked.
“I had something at the market while we were waiting.” With breastfeeding Linnea, I couldn’t go too long between meals.
“You go get settled, and I’ll grab a few things to tide you over.”
“I cannot tell you how much I appreciate all you’re doing. Brand too.”
“As I said earlier, you only need to tell me what you want me to know, but I can tell when someone is terrified, DeDe. I’ll do anything I can to help.”
She grabbed what little I’d brought along from the car, and we walked to the lift.
“I’m on six, apartment sixty-two,” I said when she pressed eight.
“I’ll be down as soon as I can,” she said when the lift stopped at my floor.
Once in the apartment, I sat on the sofa. Since Linnea was asleep in the carrier, I rested it on the floor next to me, put my face in my hands, and for the first time in hours, let myself sob.
My mum was admitted to hospital that night for tests. The following day, she was diagnosed with sepsis severe enough that she would require surgery.
Penelope stayed with Linnea for a few hours each day so I could visit.
On the fifth day, when I arrived, a nurse met me as soon as I exited the lift. “Ms. Smith?”
“Yes?”
“The doctor would like to speak with you.” She led me into a private waiting room.
“Wait, has something happened?” I asked when she turned to leave.
“He’ll be right in to explain.”
With each second I waited, my anxiety multiplied. After five minutes, I was about to stand to leave when a man walked in. “Ms. Smith?” he asked like the nurse had.
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry to have to tell you your mother passed away shortly before you arrived.”
Two hours later, when Brand walked me out of hospital, I saw a similar car to the one I had in Patchogue, parked in hospital lot.
“Are you sure it’s the same one?” Brand asked.
“I’m not certain of anything right now,” I responded, but it was a lie. What I knew without a shadow of a doubt was that my mum was gone and Linnea and I were still in danger. Not just them, but anyone with us—Penelope, Brand, even Sven, who I was certain was searching for us after receiving my message.
I couldn’t risk sending him another one, nor could I continue relying on Pen’s and Brand’s help.
A week after my mum died, Linnea and I left New York City. I had no idea where we’d go, only that we’d take a train out of the city, then find a place to sleep for the night. The next day, we’d either get back on the train or use the cash my mum had shown me how to access in case something happened to her to buy a car.
Shortly after Linnea was born, my mum and I had purchased additional ID cards and passports for ourselves and also for my baby.
When we arrived at the next place we’d make our temporary home, I would be Stacey Thompson and Linnea would be my daughter, Jessica.
29
PUCK
It had been over two months since our investigation into the disappearance of DeDe, her mother, and our baby began with the help of SIS, and thus far, we had as little to go on as we did when my father and I were searching on our own.
At the end of January, Decker approached and asked if he could speak to me privately.
“What are your thoughts about engaging the CIA in the search?” he asked once we were in another room, with the door closed.
At the start of the mission, last November, we’d discussed the possibility that DeDe might still be in danger. However, Ananke, the head of the AMPS crime syndicate, had been arrested a week ago. She was now in jail, and once she was prosecuted, I was sure she’d be put in prison without the possibility of parole. That, coupled with her sister, Charlene Vella-Borg, turning state’s evidence, I felt strongly the threat had been neutralized. Making certain it was, was something the CIA could assist with.
“That has to be your call, Deck. I don’t know anyone at the agency.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but engaging them might give us more resources.”
Decker Ashford was considered one of the world’s foremost experts in intelligence technology. It was often said that he was better able to track and find criminals than most governments, including his own. That he would admit we needed help spoke volumes about our collective frustration.
“We’ll wait another couple of weeks, and if we don’t have any luck, I’ll engage then,” he said.
As it turned out, our next lead was something Decker found on his own ten days later.
We’d spent the last three weeks in New York City after he picked up CCTV footage of a woman with what appeared to be a baby sling strapped to her front. Whoever she was, she was an expert in concealing her identity and ensuring it was impossible to see what she carried.
“Puck?” I heard Decker say from across the room.
I walked to the table where he sat with Zeppelin, studying more footage, watched what they were looking at, and leaned in close since what was on the screen was already grainy from zooming in on it.
“It’s her.” I couldn’t say why I was certain it was, given she was covered practically from head to toe, this time with a baby carrier over her arm. “When was this from?”
“Yesterday,” Decker answered, standing and closing his laptop. “Let’s move out.”
The apartment building we saw the woman walk into was in a town outside Boston. A three-hour drive from where we were.
Instead, Deck scheduled transport via helicopter and arranged for SUVs to be waiting when we arrived. It would cut our travel time to less than half of what it would otherwise be.
We took two SUVs to the helipad; Decker, Zeppelin, my father, and I rode together.
Zep, who was behind the wheel, looked over at me. “How are you doing?”
“Ready to crawl out of my fucking skin,” I muttered. I’d begun my search for DeDe thirteen months and twenty-one days ago. Two months and twenty-seven days ago, I found out I was a father. Based on the last time DeDe and I were together, our baby was at least five months old. Five months that DeDe had been on her own, with her mum, and five months I hadn’t been a part of my child’s life. It brought me to tears each time I allowed myself to think about it.
While I checked the secure app’s portal daily, usually several times, I hadn’t received any more messages from her. I refused to give in to the idea that it was because she couldn’t contact me, but what other explanation could there be?
“I’m sorry, Puck,” said Deck, putting his hand on my shoulder. “The lead was solid. It appears we missed them by a matter of hours at most.”
I nodded, looking around the empty one-bedroom apartment for any sign of DeDe, her mum, and the baby.
If only I could tell her how sorry I was for not protecting her, for not being there for her when she needed me, and for not telling her I loved her more than life itself.
“Hey, Puck. I found something,” said Zeppelin.
I raised my head when he approached. “What’s that?”
“We found it taped to the bottom of a drawer in the kitchen.”
He handed me a photograph of a baby. My eyes filled with tears when I flipped it over and saw a name written on the back. Linnea, it read.
“Do you think it’s significant?” Zeppelin asked in a soft voice.
My eyes met my father’s. “I know it is. Linnea was my mother’s name.”
Since it was the first time we had actual proof suggesting DeDe had been here, the six of us who’d entered the apartment began searching for anything else to support our theory, including collecting DNA samples.
Rather than argue, I thanked him, then took the lift up to my floor. When I opened the door, my father was waiting, looking as haggard as I felt.
“I’ve got the full support of SIS. Briefing at zero eight hundred, where we’ll craft the mission.”
My dad rushed over to me, and we embraced. “You have no idea how relieved I am, son.”
“I think I do.”
He smiled.
“I need a hot shower and then every minute of sleep I can get.”
“Agreed. And, Sven, I know we haven’t found her yet, but in my bones, I feel like we’re going to very soon.”
“Me too, Dad.”
28
SESHAT
From New York City, my mother, baby, and I moved to a small house on Long Island. While it was run-down, it was livable.
That was the typical pattern for our relocation—one extreme to the other. Each had its advantages. It was easier to go unnoticed in a metropolitan area. In a place with a smaller population, someone who didn’t belong was easier to spot. My mum typically chose places on the fringes of a village since the rent was cheaper for a house rather than an apartment. Sometimes, it even had vacant land around it.
We’d been in such a place a little over a month when I noticed a car pass by more than once, two days in a row. Given we lived on a side road with very little traffic, I became increasingly unsettled about it.
After a sleepless night, I got up and went into the kitchen, surprised my mother wasn’t in it. I walked through the house to her bedroom, stunned when I found her in bed. “Mum?”
When she didn’t answer, I walked over and found her still asleep. Her face was flushed, so I felt her forehead. She was definitely feverish, and while she was perspiring, she was also shivering.
“Mum?” I said again.
She opened her eyes. “Not well,” she mumbled.
“What are your symptoms?”
“Headache. So tired.”
We both heard the baby’s cry.
“Take care of her. I’ll be okay. Just need rest.”
I left her room and went into the one Linnea and I shared. When I picked her up from the crib, she too was feverish. I carried her into the kitchen, and from the corner of my eye, I saw the same car pass again, this time going slower.
Linnea’s cries intensified, and my own eyes filled with tears. As exhausted as I was, I still knew we had to leave. I felt it in my bones. With both my mother and baby ill, we were more at risk than usual. But where would we go? The only place I could think of was back to the apartment in the city. The lease wasn’t up for another five months. But what if whoever I’d seen driving by followed us there?
“Mum, I think someone is watching the house.”
She forced herself upright. “We must leave.”
“I know.”
“Get whatever the baby needs from the kitchen, and I’ll pack what I can.” Most of what we traveled with was already in the car. It was how we lived. Ready to flee at a moment’s notice.
I nodded and raced into the other room with Linnea in my arms. She’d stopped crying and had fallen asleep, but she still felt overly warm to me.
I grabbed the supplemental formula I kept on hand for her in case of an emergency and pulled out my phone. My mother would be furious with me for what I was about to do, but that couldn’t matter now. Maybe she’d never needed help, but I did. I couldn’t live this way, and I didn’t want Linnea to either. I raced into the bathroom and sent a message to Penelope, saying I wasn’t able to talk, but I needed help.
What’s wrong? she responded right away. I heard my mum pass by in the hallway and shoved my phone in my back pocket.
After putting Linnea in the car seat and getting my mother settled, I raced back into the house, keeping my eye on our vehicle and the road in front of the house at the same time.
I rang Penelope’s number, and she picked up right away.
“I’m so sorry to do this, but I need help.”
“What can I do?”
“My mum and my baby are sick.” My voice cracked. “We’re being watched. A car keeps going by the house.”
“Where are you?”
“On Long Island, in Patchogue.”
“Have you called the police?”
“No police.”
“Understood. Tell me how I can help.”
“I want to return to our place in the city, but I’m afraid we’ll be followed.”
“Meet me at the coffee shop in the market on Grant Street. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
While we waited, I was able to get my mother to take something to reduce her fever and drink some water. She was angry but didn’t seem to have enough strength to argue.
When she folded her arms on the table, rested her head on them, and closed her eyes, I pulled out my mobile and did something I knew I had to do. I sent a message to Sven, telling him about the baby and begging for his help.
When I saw Penelope walk in the door of the market, I glanced at my mum, whose head remained down. I got up, carrying the baby, and met her halfway. “I’m sorry—”
“Stop right there. First, no apologies. Second, you only have to tell me what you want me to know.”
“Thank you. I need to get back to the city.”
“I understand. Where are your things?”
“In the car, but…”
“You’re afraid whoever is following you is watching.”
I nodded.
“I have someone who can assist us. I promise you can trust him.”
I didn’t know what to do. I knew my mother would never have allowed anyone to help her.
“Look, we can do this without him if it makes you uncomfortable. I haven’t told him I was meeting someone yet.”
“What would he do?”
“First, is that a car seat?”
I’d removed the carrier and put the base in my bag. “It is.”
“Good. I’m in the parking structure about a block away. We can leave now. I’ll ask my friend to wait until we’re a safe distance away, then he’ll come for your vehicle.”
“I don’t want to put anyone else in danger.”
“I understand,” she repeated. “Let’s get on the road. We can figure out what to do about your car later.”
“Okay.”
I rested my cheek against Linnea’s forehead, relieved when she didn’t feel as warm.
“Mum, we’re ready to leave,” I said, resting my free hand on her shoulder. “She’s burning up,” I said, looking up at Penelope. “We need to get her to hospital.”
“Do you think you and I can get her to my car?”
“Not carrying the baby too.”
“Please let me ask my friend for help, Julie.”
The day we first met, I’d given her the name that had been on my passport when we traveled from Glasgow to Chicago.
I looked down at my mum, knowing I had no choice. I’d already gone this far, asking Penelope for help. If this was a trap, we were already too far into it.
“Where is your friend?” I asked.
“About a block away, waiting for me at the ferry landing. I told him I had to grab something at the store.”
My eyes opened wide.
“Don’t worry, if you didn’t want his help, I would’ve come up with some story about having to run over to my mother’s. He can’t stand her, so he would’ve offered to catch up with me later.”
My eyes scrunched. “You don’t seem fazed by any of this.”
“Julie—”
“My name is DeDe,” I whispered. With all she was doing to help me, I felt awful that I’d lied to her.
“DeDe, then. While I don’t know much about your situation, I had a friend who went through something similar. Two friends, actually.”
I nodded. “Again, I’m sorry.”
“I told you before, don’t apologize. I’ll go pick up Brand. It won’t take more than five minutes. Then, we’ll figure out whether your mom can make it into the city or if we have to take her to hospital here.”
It was a ninety-minute drive to the apartment, which meant it would also take that long to get to hospital there. Taking her to an emergency room here, on Long Island, seemed too risky, though. I just prayed my mother’s fever wouldn’t get worse.
As promised, Penelope returned in under five minutes. This time, she came in via the market’s rear entrance. “Take the baby to the car. Brand will stay with you until you’re settled, then he’ll come help me with your mom.”
“I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Your art. My gallery.” She smiled and winked.
I smiled too and hurried to get the car seat into the vehicle and Linnea strapped into it.
By the time we reached the city, my mother was worse. Rather than going to the apartment, we went straight to hospital. We waited while Brand went inside to get a wheelchair, then helped my mum into it.
“Is your mother’s ID in here?” he asked, pointing to her handbag.
“It is.”
“Insurance?”
I shook my head. “We’ll pay cash.”
He leaned closer to my mum. “Let’s go see the doctor, okay?”
Her head hung forward, but she managed to nod.
“Can you tell me your name?” It was the first he’d asked it of any of us, and Penelope hadn’t made introductions.
“Cherrie Smith,” I answered for her, knowing that was the ID she was carrying.
“You take them to the apartment. I’ll stay here with Mrs. Smith and call you as soon as I know anything.”
“Is that all right with you?” Penelope asked.
Before answering, I looked at Brand. “Are you sure?”
“You don’t want to bring the baby into an emergency room. I promise I’ll be in touch as soon as I know anything.”
Once he and my mum were inside, Penelope drove to the apartment building.
“My place or yours?” she asked once we were in the underground car park.
I was about to tell her she didn’t need to stay with me when it dawned on me that Brand would contact her with any updates about my mum.
“Yours would be easier with the baby,” she said when I still hadn’t answered.
“It would be. Thank you. Unfortunately, there isn’t much there besides furniture.” We’d rented the place furnished, so all we were missing were our personal items, clothes, and food.
“When’s the last time you ate?” she asked.
“I had something at the market while we were waiting.” With breastfeeding Linnea, I couldn’t go too long between meals.
“You go get settled, and I’ll grab a few things to tide you over.”
“I cannot tell you how much I appreciate all you’re doing. Brand too.”
“As I said earlier, you only need to tell me what you want me to know, but I can tell when someone is terrified, DeDe. I’ll do anything I can to help.”
She grabbed what little I’d brought along from the car, and we walked to the lift.
“I’m on six, apartment sixty-two,” I said when she pressed eight.
“I’ll be down as soon as I can,” she said when the lift stopped at my floor.
Once in the apartment, I sat on the sofa. Since Linnea was asleep in the carrier, I rested it on the floor next to me, put my face in my hands, and for the first time in hours, let myself sob.
My mum was admitted to hospital that night for tests. The following day, she was diagnosed with sepsis severe enough that she would require surgery.
Penelope stayed with Linnea for a few hours each day so I could visit.
On the fifth day, when I arrived, a nurse met me as soon as I exited the lift. “Ms. Smith?”
“Yes?”
“The doctor would like to speak with you.” She led me into a private waiting room.
“Wait, has something happened?” I asked when she turned to leave.
“He’ll be right in to explain.”
With each second I waited, my anxiety multiplied. After five minutes, I was about to stand to leave when a man walked in. “Ms. Smith?” he asked like the nurse had.
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry to have to tell you your mother passed away shortly before you arrived.”
Two hours later, when Brand walked me out of hospital, I saw a similar car to the one I had in Patchogue, parked in hospital lot.
“Are you sure it’s the same one?” Brand asked.
“I’m not certain of anything right now,” I responded, but it was a lie. What I knew without a shadow of a doubt was that my mum was gone and Linnea and I were still in danger. Not just them, but anyone with us—Penelope, Brand, even Sven, who I was certain was searching for us after receiving my message.
I couldn’t risk sending him another one, nor could I continue relying on Pen’s and Brand’s help.
A week after my mum died, Linnea and I left New York City. I had no idea where we’d go, only that we’d take a train out of the city, then find a place to sleep for the night. The next day, we’d either get back on the train or use the cash my mum had shown me how to access in case something happened to her to buy a car.
Shortly after Linnea was born, my mum and I had purchased additional ID cards and passports for ourselves and also for my baby.
When we arrived at the next place we’d make our temporary home, I would be Stacey Thompson and Linnea would be my daughter, Jessica.
29
PUCK
It had been over two months since our investigation into the disappearance of DeDe, her mother, and our baby began with the help of SIS, and thus far, we had as little to go on as we did when my father and I were searching on our own.
At the end of January, Decker approached and asked if he could speak to me privately.
“What are your thoughts about engaging the CIA in the search?” he asked once we were in another room, with the door closed.
At the start of the mission, last November, we’d discussed the possibility that DeDe might still be in danger. However, Ananke, the head of the AMPS crime syndicate, had been arrested a week ago. She was now in jail, and once she was prosecuted, I was sure she’d be put in prison without the possibility of parole. That, coupled with her sister, Charlene Vella-Borg, turning state’s evidence, I felt strongly the threat had been neutralized. Making certain it was, was something the CIA could assist with.
“That has to be your call, Deck. I don’t know anyone at the agency.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but engaging them might give us more resources.”
Decker Ashford was considered one of the world’s foremost experts in intelligence technology. It was often said that he was better able to track and find criminals than most governments, including his own. That he would admit we needed help spoke volumes about our collective frustration.
“We’ll wait another couple of weeks, and if we don’t have any luck, I’ll engage then,” he said.
As it turned out, our next lead was something Decker found on his own ten days later.
We’d spent the last three weeks in New York City after he picked up CCTV footage of a woman with what appeared to be a baby sling strapped to her front. Whoever she was, she was an expert in concealing her identity and ensuring it was impossible to see what she carried.
“Puck?” I heard Decker say from across the room.
I walked to the table where he sat with Zeppelin, studying more footage, watched what they were looking at, and leaned in close since what was on the screen was already grainy from zooming in on it.
“It’s her.” I couldn’t say why I was certain it was, given she was covered practically from head to toe, this time with a baby carrier over her arm. “When was this from?”
“Yesterday,” Decker answered, standing and closing his laptop. “Let’s move out.”
The apartment building we saw the woman walk into was in a town outside Boston. A three-hour drive from where we were.
Instead, Deck scheduled transport via helicopter and arranged for SUVs to be waiting when we arrived. It would cut our travel time to less than half of what it would otherwise be.
We took two SUVs to the helipad; Decker, Zeppelin, my father, and I rode together.
Zep, who was behind the wheel, looked over at me. “How are you doing?”
“Ready to crawl out of my fucking skin,” I muttered. I’d begun my search for DeDe thirteen months and twenty-one days ago. Two months and twenty-seven days ago, I found out I was a father. Based on the last time DeDe and I were together, our baby was at least five months old. Five months that DeDe had been on her own, with her mum, and five months I hadn’t been a part of my child’s life. It brought me to tears each time I allowed myself to think about it.
While I checked the secure app’s portal daily, usually several times, I hadn’t received any more messages from her. I refused to give in to the idea that it was because she couldn’t contact me, but what other explanation could there be?
“I’m sorry, Puck,” said Deck, putting his hand on my shoulder. “The lead was solid. It appears we missed them by a matter of hours at most.”
I nodded, looking around the empty one-bedroom apartment for any sign of DeDe, her mum, and the baby.
If only I could tell her how sorry I was for not protecting her, for not being there for her when she needed me, and for not telling her I loved her more than life itself.
“Hey, Puck. I found something,” said Zeppelin.
I raised my head when he approached. “What’s that?”
“We found it taped to the bottom of a drawer in the kitchen.”
He handed me a photograph of a baby. My eyes filled with tears when I flipped it over and saw a name written on the back. Linnea, it read.
“Do you think it’s significant?” Zeppelin asked in a soft voice.
My eyes met my father’s. “I know it is. Linnea was my mother’s name.”
Since it was the first time we had actual proof suggesting DeDe had been here, the six of us who’d entered the apartment began searching for anything else to support our theory, including collecting DNA samples.
