Invisible: Rise of the Phoenix Syndicate

By C.K. Romans

In a world where computers, cell phones, and distractions are commonplace, it takes only seven seconds for a child to disappear and a family’s life to be destroyed. “From the ashes of the unworthy, we shall rise” is the Phoenix Syndicate’s motto. Dive deep into the abyss of selling drugs, human organs, and designer babies to the highest bidder. This is the fate of one Chloe Rodriguez, a young girl whose life hangs in the balance. As she was abducted from her local supermarket, it falls to Leslie Parker, a young detective in the Atlanta Police Department, to find and save her before she is consumed by the flames of the Phoenix. How far will Leslie have to go to save her, and who will be waiting in the darkness to stop the young detective?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9781669808817

Book preview

INVISIBLE

Rise of the Phoenix Syndicate

C.K. Romans

Copyright © 2022 by C.K. Romans.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations are from The Holy Bible,

English Standard Version® (ESV®). Copyright ©2001 by Crossway Bibles, a

division of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 01/25/2022

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

836671

CONTENTS

Preface

Invisible: Innocence Lost

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Always for our family:

Ronald and Versie Goines

and

Charles and Cindy Romans

"Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls

around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour." (1 Pet. 5:8)

PREFACE

Everyone thinks that they are someone. This is an illusion. Depending on whether you’re male or female, old or young, or how involved you are in the community will decide whether or not the state will investigate or, should I say, how much they will investigate your disappearance. In a sense, we are invisible to everyone but to the people who love us. After a year, a missing person becomes invisible, forgotten, not even spoken about, a taboo to the community. All that remains of this person is a piece of paper that reads Have you seen this person? The rule of thumb is after twenty-four hours, more than likely, they are dead, especially if the missing person is a child. However, a mother somehow knows if their child has left this world, and for this reason alone, mothers and fathers never give up the fight and hope that their child will come home.

INVISIBLE

Innocence Lost

CHAPTER 1

Leslie Parker opened her eyes as she heard the persistent ring of her alarm clock go off. Rolling over to her left side, she smacked it hard. It was going to be another hard day at work. Since receiving her master’s degree in criminology, she was handed the detective position of missing and exploited children in Atlanta, Georgia. Usually, she was assigned cold cases; however, every now and then, she would get assigned an active case, which meant the child was missing for seventy-two hours or less.

Throwing her comforter off, she moved to the side of the bed and sat there for a moment. She tried to encourage herself for another day of disappointment as she watched the sun rise into the sky from her bedroom window. A long sigh of frustration expelled from her. Since she had accepted the position, Leslie had found it more and more difficult to accept the fact that really she’s looking for a body. She stood and walked down the hall and into her bathroom; the wooden floors cold to her feet. Looking into her bathroom mirror, she stared at her reflection and tried to encourage herself, You can do this. You have the knowledge and the will. Leslie, you are these children’s only chance of being brought home alive. You have the power to change the world one life at a time. Closing her eyes for a moment, she released a deep sigh again and turned to step into her shower. Closing her eyes, she let the hot water run down her back. Quietly, she began to pray to herself, Lord, please give me the strength to endure the trials that lie ahead. All I want to do is help. I know I can. Please show me the way to help those who need it and the wisdom to know when to use the knowledge you impart in me. In Jesus’s name, I pray. Amen.

Her shower had become her only sanctuary to reaffirm to herself that her quest was valid. Leslie, don’t take it personal! These parents are only like this and have no confidence in you because, it is their child that is missing! She would repeat this affirmation over and over while in the shower until her confidence would refill for the day. For some time, she had wondered how she would feel if it was her child that was missing, and she was meeting a person like her. How would she react meeting a fresh graduate in their midtwenties, who is only five feet eight inches and who has blonde hair and a face that looked like a child itself?

Lack of respect is something she was given in spades. Parents would get upset almost instantly after walking into her office. They always considered her a child looking for a child and almost always asked her questions: What kind of experience do you have? Is there anybody else with experience? You’re a woman. What can you do, and how old are you?" It was a constant struggle, yet she loved it.

She got out of the shower and gazed into the mirror once again. Suddenly, she yelled, All I want is just one chance to prove myself! Tears began to form in her eyes. I studied hard, busted my ass, and for what? To be a walking, talking joke! I fucking care! Sitting down on the side of the tub, she lowered her head down and wiped her face. Realizing what she had just said, she crossed herself across her chest and said, Lord, forgive me. Your son must have thought the same thing. Standing, she grabbed a towel, wrapped herself, and walked into her bedroom to prepare for work.

The room was sparsely decorated with plain white walls. An early-1800s large mahogany dresser sat in the corner, while a queen-sized bed was neatly placed against the north wall. Leslie walked to her closet and picked her clothing for the day and returned to her bed to dress.

Leslie buttoned the last one on her shirt and walked over to her dresser. Grabbing her gun and badge, she stared at herself in the mirror. Please, God, use me. Give me the knowledge and wisdom to do your bidding. Pepper, her little cocker spaniel, danced around her legs excited. It was time to eat and go outside. Leslie gave the little dog the nickname Chunky-butt because he was getting overweight.

Walking over to the patio door, Leslie opened it and let Pepper out. Standing at her patio door, Leslie watched as the little dog walked around, looking for his spot. Lightly, she chuckled. He needs a bath. He was supposed to be black and white, but he was starting to look blacker than anything. He loved to roll around on the ground especially early in the morning while the grass was still wet. Come on, boy, Mommy’s gotta go! Pepper tilted his head and ran to her as fast as he could because he knew that obeying Mommy meant that a piece of pepperoni was waiting for him.

Leslie allowed Pepper to finish his breakfast, while she found something for herself. Feeling two paws on her, she looked down. Okay, boy, one more, and that’s all. She grabbed another piece of pepperoni from the fridge, bent down, and delivered the treat. She then placed him in his kennel with a couple of toys, looked down at him, and smiled. Mommy will be back in a couple of hours. The little dog looked back at her and shook his butt because he didn’t have a tail. That’s my boy. Mommy loves you. She walked out of the room and started to leave. Stopping in midstep, she released a sigh. I wish I could find someone to watch him while I was at work.

Reaching forward, she unlocked her door and opened it. Bye, boy, be good! she yelled as she walked out of her small house. After she locked all three doorlocks, she walked over to her car and unlocked it. It was an older-model sedan she had purchased it while attending college for $3,000. Best money I’ve ever spent, she would always think to herself. It had never failed to get her home.

Leslie had seen in her two years on the force the effect of stress of losing a child on those parents. She had seen couples in their twenties and thirties begin to look as if they were in their sixties. She had seen parents fall apart because of the paralyzing feeling of not knowing or the horrible question each parent would always ask themselves: What if? Those words, though small, had driven parents to the brink of madness where some had not returned.

The cool morning wind felt good as she drove to work. Traffic was lighter than normal in downtown Atlanta. Reaching for her radio, she turned it on and turned it to her favorite station. A smile arched across her face as she sat at a stoplight, listening to I’m a Believer. I’m gonna get a good lead and bring home someone’s child. I just know it, she assured herself. As she arrived at the parking garage, Leslie flashed her badge to the guard, an elderly man named Glenn. Morning, Glenn.

Why, good morning, Detective, and how are you?

Leslie smiled at the old man. He was always so sweet, and seeing him was one of her favorite parts of the day. I’m well and tell Martha to have a good day.

Glenn nodded and smiled as Leslie drove off.

Leslie parked her car in her assigned spot in the police parking garage and stepped out. As she shut the door, she noticed a shadow in the shape of a person on the other side of the garage. Cocking her head, she watched for a moment as the shadow slowly faded from view without any sound at all. She placed her hand on her gun for a second, and her eyes moved to and fro. She knew she had seen someone yet not heard a single thing—not a bird, a footstep, or even a single breath. Removing her hand, she slowly walked into the station while very cautious of her surroundings.

As she stepped through the station’s glass doors, her mood lightened before the looks of other officers began. Every day it was the same thing over and over. She heard whispers and snide remarks of Well, I guess it’s not what you know but who you blow. You know she’s doing someone to have gotten detective so quickly. The whispers would start throughout the station as soon as she was in sight of other officers. Bound and determined, she walked in proud and strong; for in her mind, she knew she was the best candidate for the position. She would show them all that she got the position on her feet and not on her knees.

Leslie walked to her office, opened the door, and sat at her desk. Opening her appointment book, she looked at her schedule. A new couple was coming in today, the Rodriguez family. Their eleven-year-old daughter Chloe had been missing for fifty-four hours. Wigberto Rodriguez was a tall well-built man and his wife, Veronica, was medium built and just a little overweight. Leslie looked up to her clock: eight fifty-five. They should be here— Before she could finish her thought, a knock came at her door. Detective, the Rodriguez family is here, said the lone rookie Cole.

Send them in, Officer, she said as she waved her hand for the family to enter.

Wigberto came in Leslie’s office and sat down in the chair hard as if his legs had just given out. His right leg bounced up and down. He sat crooked in the chair, so he could keep an eye on his wife, Veronica. The poor woman came in behind her husband, looking like she had not slept in weeks. Her eyes were red and swollen from lack of sleep. Her hair was dark and unwashed. She carried a brown paper bag in her left hand, while a pale-blue rosary remained tightly wrapped around her right wrist. She took the other seat next to her husband. Veronica began to speak softly, Are we in the right room? Are you Detective Leslie Parker?

Wigberto reached out for his wife and started to say soft words to her in Spanish. All his wife could do was hang on to the brown bag like it was a life preserve, and she was on a sinking ship.

Yes, I am, and yes, you are in the right room, Leslie said with every muscle in her body tightening. I wish I could say good morning. May I offer you something to drink? Leslie began to realize her mistake. This isn’t a social call, and what are you really supposed to say? The couple just sat there. Wigberto could not take his eyes off his wife; and when he finally looked at Leslie, he realized that her stare was focused on Veronica’s hand. She had gripped the pale-blue rosary so tight that it began to cut into her hand. Small drops of blood began to run down the side of her hand onto the floor. Standing, Wigberto, lowered himself to one knee beside his wife’s chair. Taking her right hand into his, he slowly unwrapped the rosary from around her hand. Small amounts of blood dripped from the beaded rosary. He removed a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped up the blood, and wrapped it around her hand. Not knowing how much English the two spoke, Leslie picked up her phone and rang the desk for a translator.

Wigberto’s head turned toward Leslie. His eyes flared. He rose from the floor like a grizzly bear getting ready to charge, took a couple of steps, and slammed his fists on Leslie’s desk. His breath was hot, with the distinguishing smell of someone who hadn’t brushed their teeth in days. My wife and I are fluent in both English and Spanish. We don’t need a damn translator or a blonde bimbo who couldn’t tell that my wife is in severe pain and needed my attention. Were we passed over to you because we are Mexican? Wigberto screamed at Leslie less than an inch away from her face.

Veronica jumped up and put her bloodstained hand on Wigberto’s shoulder. Turning his glare from Leslie, he looked into his wife’s eyes. Tears began to form in his eyes as he saw the desperation in his wife’s soul. His mind froze as he started to lose his breath. As his strength left him, he fell into the chair. His lips tried to move, but he was unable to form the words. His eyes never left his wife or hers to him as the feeling of despair settled in. He finally found the strength to utter, I failed you, my beloved.

Veronica reached into the brown paper bag and pulled out a picture of her daughter. This is Chloe. This is my baby. Please-please help us! Tears welled in her eyes as Veronica began to lose control. Her knees weakened as her strength left her. Falling to her knees in front of Leslie’s desk, she gripped the front of the desk, attempting to keep herself up.

Wigberto picked up the brown paper bag and began to empty it. Inside was a dirty baseball uniform, her hairbrush with hair still entangled in it, Chloe’s toothbrush, and, most important, a pink book with a bunch of stickers of horses and Disney princess on the front. Wigberto stood tall and took a deep breath. We have brought everything that was asked of us. He bent down and kissed Veronica on the head while muttering a few soft words to her in Spanish.

Thank you and I’m sorry for insulting you and your wife. Please forgive my ignorance, Leslie apologized. She continued confidently, Mr. Rodriguez, you have helped me more than you actually know. I know that it was difficult to hand over Chloe’s journal. I promise that I will do everything within my power to bring her home.

Slowly, Veronica pulled herself up and sat back down. Do you believe in God, Ms. Parker? Leslie stood still for a moment in total shock. This was the first time she had ever been asked that question by a parent of a missing child. If you talk about God, some people think you’re crazy, while others think that it’s wonderful to speak about the Lord.

Leslie breathed deeply. Yes, I believe in God. It is through his grace that we are able to feel love and compassion, and it’s only through Jesus that we will receive salvation. Extending her arm, Leslie pulled up her right arm sleeve, showing Veronica a silver beaded bracelet with the medallion of Saint Michael on it.

Veronica stared at her wrist and then turning to her husband asked for her rosary in Spanish. Wigberto gave her the rosary, and Veronica asked Leslie, Would you pray with us? Wigberto quickly moved the two chairs in front of the desk. Leslie, Wigberto, and Veronica got down on their knees and prayed for Chloe.

Wigberto and Veronica stood and began to walk toward the door. Stopping in midstep, Veronica turned, grabbed Leslie, and kissed her on the cheek. Holding her rosary in her right hand, she did the sign of the cross and said a prayer in Spanish for Leslie. I will pray that God will guide you to my baby. May you deliver her out of the hands of the devil.

Veronica turned to Wigberto; looking to him with sorrow in her heart, she attempted to smile. Releasing a sigh, he looked to Leslie. I’m sorry for my outburst earlier. Please find my baby girl.

Leslie shook Wigberto’s hand. I understand. I would like to come to your house tomorrow and interview you and your wife, along with friends of Chloe. Could you ask them for me?

Wigberto was beginning to feel hope once again. I will, and if there is a problem with you understanding Spanish, I will help you. Anything for my baby.

Leslie smiled, noticing that even if the child was already eleven, they still referred to her as their baby. Leslie stood still and waved goodbye as the Rodriguez family walked out of her office.

Leslie went back to her desk and decided to call home. The telephone rang three times. Her dad answered the phone. Hi, Dad.

I know that voice, he said with glee, It’s one of my baby girls.

Leslie laughed at his comment. Yeah, Dad, it’s the good one. Is Mom home? She would always say that, which was the inside joke of their family. All my baby girls are good. However, some are just a little sweeter than others. Wait, I’ll get your mom.

Leslie waited patiently on the phone. After a few moments, a new voice came on the phone. Hello, Leslie, are you all right? her mom would always say. Ronald and Versie Parker were in their early to midseventies. They were proud of each of their four children, especially Leslie and her sister Cassandra.

Mom, I’m just a little low. I just got a new case, and it really got to me. Versie knew when Leslie was feeling low just by the sound of her voice. Listen to me, Leslie, you are destined to do great things, and I know you were a prophecy from Father Tom. Versie recalled that day in church after confession. I thought he was crazy. After all, I just turned fifty. Your sister, Kimberly Ellen, was a sophomore in college, and your brother, Derek Michael, was a senior in high school. Leslie laughed at the thought and the stories that her dad told about the day he got the news. If I didn’t know CPR, all three of them would have died choking on steak that night when I broke the news, her mother said playfully. Leslie and her mom both laughed at the thought of them choking. You were a little surprise, but Cassandra was a big surprise.

Leslie continued to laugh with her mom. I know, Mom. Cassandra came out weighing over eleven pounds and me only weighing just a little over four.

Versie recalled that day, Yeah, your sister just came charging on through, but you—well, after Cassandra—slid out.

Leslie laughed so hard she slapped her knee. Maybe that’s why I like water slides.

Both of the women continued to talk and laugh for a few more minutes, Les, do you feel better? Versie asked the way only a mother can.

Yeah, Mom, I needed that! Leslie reached out with her hand and touched the picture of her parents on her desk. Oh, and, Mom, if you see my evil twin, say hello for me, Leslie said with conviction in her voice.

Leslie Allison, don’t be like that. Cassandra is just Cassandra. Versie thought to herself, They are supposed to be identical twins, but they act nothing alike.

Love you, Mom. She kissed the picture on her desk and hung up on her mother. Now to work on making a questionnaire for Chloe’s friends and family to fill out. Leslie picked up the phone and asked for a translator to come to her office.

Anna Vanderburgh came to Leslie’s office. She looked about the room for a moment. Shaking her head, she noticed how plain it was. No pictures hung on the stale white walls, no art to gaze upon, no color to the room at all, only her small desk and on top of it a few pictures facing Leslie. In fact, her office smelled like a hospital. Come in, please, Leslie said to Anna. Don’t doddle in the doorway.

Anna had been assigned to help Leslie with Spanish translation by the chief of police. Sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you. Anna looked over at Leslie for a moment, sizing her up: her blonde hair pulled tightly back in a French braid, her clothes freshly ironed with not a single crease in them, no makeup, no nail polish. Not even one drop of perfume could be smelled on Leslie—a plain woman indeed.

Here’s what I need typed up. Leslie handed over a piece of paper full of questions and long spaces to be filled out. I need all these questions in Spanish, and then I’ll have you translate their responses.

Anna looked at Leslie and then took the paper from her hand. Their hands touched for a brief second; as their hands touched, Leslie finally took time to look at Anna. Her skin was a very pale-olive color, and her hair was dark with caramel highlights. She had the brightest green eyes that she had ever seen on a person.

Apologies. Do sit down, Leslie said suggestively. Anna took the seat in front of Leslie’s desk, trying to adjust her bracelet. Leslie watched her for a moment. Anna briefly closed her eyes and winced like she was in pain. Leslie said playfully, It’s the shoes, isn’t it? Leslie knew what it’s like working in shoes that were uncomfortable and trying to hide the pain from others, while performing all the duties expected of her with no complaints.

Yeah, it’s the shoes, Anna agreed, trying to smile.

Leslie eyed Anna’s wrist. She held it tight as if it was broken. May I see your wrist please, Anna?

Anna jumped up and started heading to the door. She didn’t say anything to Leslie. I insist on seeing your wrist, my dear, or I will notify the chief of your aliment and say that you are compromised to do your work.

Anna turned around. Her dark hair spun in the air. She gave Leslie a dirty look. Gritting her teeth, Anna simply replied, Fine. She stomped back over to Leslie’s desk and held out her left arm and removed the bracelet.

What is this? It looks like a burn in the shape of an animal! Leslie said, looking at it and the scab it was trying to form.

It’s the latest trend, a new form of tattoo, Anna said that with such contrite, hoping that this would end it. May I get you anything, Detective: water, soda, doughnut, or some kind of fruit? The smile on Anna’s face was big and bright.

Leslie began to get an uneasy feeling in her stomach. She began to remember what Grandpa Bill had told her: You should always listen to your gut, Leslie. It may save your life one day. No thank you. Only that paper typed by five today will do.

Anna’s smile disappeared. Her green eyes locked with Leslie’s blue ones. The women stared at each other for a moment before Anna turned around and walked away.

Anna Vanderburgh walked out of Leslie’s office, went to the bathroom, and made a phone call. Is it done? a man’s voice came on the other end.

No, sir, I didn’t have the opportunity! Anna said with her voice beginning to crack. Before long, her whole body began to shake in fear.

Don’t fail me, Ms. Vanderburgh, or your loyalties to the syndicate of the Phoenix may come into question, and you know what that means, don’t you? asked the man as his voice lowered into a growl. Detective Parker came too close to us last time. Slip her the fucking ricin.

Anna thought back to Leslie and how she looked at her desk, like a twelve-year-old doing homework. How this woman can be such a threat to the Phoenix syndicate was beyond her. Sir, she looks like a joke, and why is Mr. M in such a hurry to be done with her? It will make suspicions rise. The man’s breath could be heard over the phone. It was deep and full of anger.

Suddenly, his breathing quickened, and his voice rose. Listen to me, you stupid little cunt. Unlike you, she doesn’t fucking stop. She keeps on pushing and pushing until she finds what she is looking for. She is freshly graduated and has something to prove to the world. Vanderburgh heard him start to count to ten; and then in a calm voice, the male voice said, That bitch better be dead or dying by the end of the week, or I will report to Mr. M you have failed, and he will report to the Don.

Anna started crying, holding the cell phone with both hands; her knees began to buckle from beneath her. I’ll get it done. I won’t let the Phoenix syndicate regret accepting me. Anna hung up her phone and went to the sink to freshen up. Turning the cold water on, she splashed some on her face. Leslie Parker, my orders have been given, she said to herself while looking at her green eyes in the mirror.

Chloe Rodriguez slowly opened her eyes. A hazed vision of a dark room began to come into view. The bed she was lying on was not her own. It smelled of urine and felt funny, something that she wasn’t accustomed to touching. She slowly rose from the bed using it as a crutch to stabilize herself from falling. Her head began to spin; her heart rate began to increase. Moving her head about, she looked left and right, not grasping what she was looking at. She attempted to take a step only to fall flat onto the dirt floor beneath her. As she lay on the floor, the whole room spun about, causing her stomach to churn. It’ll pass; they gave you something, didn’t they? asked a voice from somewhere within the room.

Chloe slowly attempted to raise her head as she felt a hand touch her shoulder. She tried to talk but was afraid that if she opened her mouth, she was going to throw up. It’s all right. My name is Sarah, and I know exactly how you feel, and yes, if you don’t lie still, you will throw up. Sarah lay next to Chloe, her hand upon her shoulder. Chloe’s energy left her. Slowly, she closed her eyes and passed out. Sarah walked over to her bed and grabbed an old wool blanket and placed it over Chloe. She picked up Chloe’s left hand and held it in both of hers. She took Chloe’s hand near her cheek, and tears began to fall from her eyes as she began to rock back and forth. I know exactly how you feel.

Detective Parker walked to her car. Knowing that time was of the essence, she decided to do some foot work on the day that Chloe disappeared. Anna ran up to her. Hey, may I go with you? You might need someone to translate for you, she said with a big smile.

Leslie began feel that bad feeling rising up from her gut and with a stern voice replied, Is my questionnaire done? If not, you better get that done first.

Anna stopped dead in her tracks and gave Leslie a look of pure disdain. Leslie continued to her car and got in. Placing the car in gear, she gunned it out of the police garage. She turned onto Main Street and tried to come up with a logical answer of why her gut was telling her something was wrong with that woman. She thought on the subject for a few minutes before deciding that she needed to stop thinking of Anna and start focusing on Chloe.

Leslie pulled her cell phone out of her shirt pocket and called Waggler Supermarket to see if she might be permitted an audience with the store manager, the loss prevention manager, the cashiers, the cart pushers—anyone who had seen the Rodriguez’s family that day. Landon Berry, the store manager, came on the phone, Detective, we have been questioned by police and handed over the video of the kidnapping from the parking lot.

Leslie found this odd. When she was given the case, there was no video from the store or statements from the store staff. Keeping her thoughts to herself, she asked if she would be permitted to interview everyone herself. Oh, I don’t mind at all, Detective. It’s just that I didn’t think it would be necessary since all our employees have already given their depositions, Landon apologized.

Waggler Supermarket had gotten some bad publicity since the kidnapping, and Leslie understood why the manager was on the defensive. The public felt like the store did not do Code Adam correctly, and the employees and the store manager are the reason this little girl is missing.

Detective Parker pulled into the parking lot. The sun was bright with no clouds in sight. The heat barreled down upon Leslie as she stepped out of her car. Her left arm began to tingle; she looked at it, realizing that her pale skin was beginning to burn and turn red. Driver’s burn, Leslie said to herself, thinking that she should take her car to a local dealership to have tinted windows put in. Store Manager Landon Berry and Loss Prevention Manager Greg Lewis stood outside in the parking lot, waiting for her. Landon was a tall man, well built, with black hair, and dark-brown eyes. Greg was about a foot under him and had a nice beer belly starting. The two men stood in the building’s shade, smoking cigarettes and talking to each other. Neither man noticed as Detective Parker approached them.

Leslie eyed their name tags as she introduced herself, Good afternoon, gentlemen, she said with a smile. I am Detective Leslie Parker. The men just stared at her in total shock, looking at her small height, tiny waist, and her baby face.

Landon Berry took a deep breath, Can I see your badge, please?

Leslie handed over her photo identification issued by the Atlanta Police Department. Landon studied the picture hard and then passed it over to Greg, who he told to go inside and verify that she is who she says she is. Leslie and Landon stayed at the entrance of the store, while Greg proceeded inside to make the phone call in his office. While waiting for her credentials to be verified, Greg thought to himself, Aren’t they taking this seriously? The police sent a fucking kid, and we’re the ones on the news! Where is the fucking justice? Greg was hurt and upset. People were saying, If the dumb ass knew what Code Adam was, then this little girl wouldn’t be gone or his absolute favorite, which was making him already turn red in the face from anger, If that little girl would have been a doughnut, I guarantee that she would have been rescued. After a few moments, a voice came over the phone and confirmed Detective Parker’s identity. Thank you very much, Greg said as he hung up the phone.

Nodding, he left the office and proceeded back outside, all the while thinking I bet if it would have been a little white girl, she would have gotten someone with more experience and not a preppy white girl playing cops and robbers!

Greg walked outside to the entrance of the store. Landon stood a few feet away from Leslie smoking another cigarette and talking. He handed Leslie back her credentials and nodded to Landon. He dropped his cigarette to the ground, and the three of them proceeded back into the store toward the back offices. Patrons glared at them as they walked past the registers and across the store. Mothers grasped their children’s hands as they stood in line waiting to check out. They had all heard the news and didn’t want their children to be next.

Landon opened the office door and held it open for Leslie. Closing it behind her, he pulled out her chair. Please have a seat, Landon said. I’m sorry for having Greg disappear like that to verify, but you look so . . . so—smiling hard and taking a deep breath, Landon finished his sentence—young.

Detective Parker smiled a small smile, hiding her disdain. I understand was all that she could muster out after the insult.

Mr. Lewis remained quiet. He wasn’t a very sociable person. His dark eyes stared at Leslie as he asked in a hostile tone, What happened to the original interviews?

Sensing that Mr. Lewis was upset, Leslie quickly responded softly, I just got this case and spoke to the parents briefly. I’m not here for a witch hunt or blame game, Mr. Lewis. However, in the back of her mind, Leslie thought, He’s right. Why wasn’t I handed over all interviews and tapes of the kidnapping?

Greg starred at Leslie, expecting an answer, but instead, all he received was a cold look from icy eyes that he could not read. People think that the kidnapping happened in the store and think we dropped the ball, Greg growled. With that comment, Store Manager Landon Berry reached out and touched Greg’s arm and shook his head to silence Greg’s subtle protest. Detective Parker let it all play out. She sat in the chair piecing what they were saying in her mind and quietly thinking to herself, If the kidnapping happened out in the parking lot, then who told the media that it happened in the store?

Landon Berry snapped his fingers at Leslie. Are you all right, or do you need something?

Yes, I would like some water, Leslie said coolly.

Landon Berry left the room; Greg leaned over his desk and looked at Leslie straight in the eye. I knew something was up. He went over to the filing cabinet and took out a DVD. Don’t tell Landon that I went against those other officers’ wishes and copied the tape, Greg said, taking the DVD out of a fake book. He turned and held the DVD with both hands to his chest next to his heart. I use to be military police, but I got hurt in Desert Storm, which ended my career.

Leslie got up from her chair and walked over to him. Leslie whispered, I don’t know what exactly is going on, but I need that tape and what’s happened.

Greg shook his head; he called Sandy in customer service and asked her to distract Landon for a while. Greg whispered, Landon goes straight by the book and would not do anything to jeopardize the investigation or store. However, making a copy of the kidnapping to protect us and the store—was that a wrong thing to do?

Leslie whispered back, No, it’s not, and I really need to know what is on it.

He went to his computer and put the DVD in. I’ll burn you a copy since the original is gone! With a deep sigh, Greg handed over the new DVD. Tell me you’re not a joke and will use this to find that little girl.

Leslie put her hands around the DVD. I will, and thank you.

Landon came into the room with a cup of water. Apologies. Sandy lost the inventory list, and it is important for today’s shipping, you know. Greg and Leslie both nodded at the apology, knowing Sandy really didn’t lose it.

With Landon out of the room chasing a ghost inventory list, the interview with Greg Lewis was first. We had been having trouble with shoplifting here recently. I was watching the parking lot video for people parking close to the doors. That’s usually the first sign. They park close to the door, so they can run, grab, and get, he said enthusiastically. Greg continued, I had just stepped out of the room, but the cameras don’t stop rolling. They continue to record even without an operator.

Leslie nodded at the old man and asked excitedly for him to continue. She knew that acting excited always got people talking even when they didn’t want to. "I was in the hall coming back when Landon stopped me with Wigberto. I’ll never forget the look in that father’s face. After I found out his daughter was missing from the two of them, I went straight back to the office. While Wigberto started running through the store yelling his daughter’s name, Landon started making announcements for customers to please look around them for a little girl and what she was wearing! I started watching everything, praying to God, Just let her be in the candy aisle. Greg’s hands suddenly began to shake, and his face started to turn red. Chloe plays on my daughter’s baseball team. I watched the video. Two young guys went to Wigberto and got him to follow them to their car, and then I saw Veronica point at the cart corral and pushed the cart to Chloe. She wasn’t two feet from the corral when the van pulled up. When it drove away, she was gone. His eyes were beginning to turn red from where he had been fighting tears and emotions. Seven seconds," he whispered.

Leslie asked gently, Excuse me, Mr. Lewis?

He whispered again, Seven seconds to take a child and destroy three people’s lives forever.

Leslie was listening contently to Greg’s account of the day that neither of them noticed that Landon had come back into the room. Landon walked over and put his hand on Greg’s shoulder. Greg, would you bring in more water for Detective Parker please?

Greg stood up from his chair; he was stiff, trying to hide his emotions from this woman. He stood tall and walked to the door as if he were back in the Marine Corps again. You have to excuse Mr. Lewis, Detective, Landon said, concerned. This has never happened here, and Greg feels like he is just as guilty as the villains who took that child.

Well, Mr. Berry, I guess it’s your turn, Leslie said with a half smile, trying to lighten the heavy mood filling the room.

The manager walked around the chair where Greg had been sitting. I have known the Rodriguez family for many years. I was here when they checked out, and I waved at Wigberto as he was leaving the store. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and continued, I was talking to another customer about a complaint when I felt a hand on my shoulder spin me around.

Leslie asked gently, Was it Mr. Rodriguez?

Landon felt the panic of that day come flooding back. Yes, he said, Landon, have you seen Chloe? Did she come back in? Veronica and I can’t find her outside. Landon felt his face turning red. I asked him to wait a minute, and I would help him. He bent over his chair as if the air