by Geri Fitzsimmons & Andy Stephenson1

Neil Harris still held the phone in his hand as he watched the activity taking place and contemplated the extent of damage to his kitchen. A few seconds before he had said, “no problem.”  "Sure," he’d told Joe, "It’s no problem. Becca can hang out at my place and we can meet up with you later." No, he didn’t have any plans and why bother Joe’s sister?2

Now he decided, it was just as well if Joe didn’t pick up the red-eyed teens as originally intended. He pondered as he turned from replacing the handset to take in the antics of the four girls, how could the youngsters be so full of energy with so little sleep? All in all if he managed four hours last night, the girls probably got five at best.3

“Take off more of the yucky white stuff,” Hailey Woods complained. She paused the electric juicier, to rescue a few drowning ivory pits accompanied by quite a bit of pulp out of the glass recovery decanter. 4

The smaller girl had swung up and was seated on the counter top, perhaps in an effort to bring her five-four height up to competition level with the nearly six feet of Hailey. Trisha Brody tossed down the pairing knife. She commenced using her thumb nail to loosen streaks of white membrane clinging to the fruit’s orange flesh. Doctor Neil Harris forced himself to block out the sight of all them ugly little critters, referred to in his text books as germs, crawling on to fruit. 5

Apparently both girls were strangers to freshly squeezed juice and expected, when they offered to make the juice, to remove the cardboard skin of a frozen cylinder, plop it in the pitcher and add water. A half dozen oranges had given up their lives and still couldn’t provide one full glass of juice. Of course the pools spreading on the counter top, or turning sticky on the tile floor couldn’t be counted. The good doctor mentally added frozen orange juice, beneath the taco chips, on his growing lists of necessities.6

Smelling the unpleasant stink of burning flesh, Neil reached over Casey Malone’s blonde curls to yank open the micro wave door. Still deprived of her contact lenses, Casey head was bent an inch from her Ipod hunting something. 7

“Yikes, sorry.” She reared back and clipped his chin with her head only to repeat another, “Yikes, sorry!”8

He ran his tongue over his front teeth to convince himself none were missing. Grunted. Then figured it wasn’t worth the trouble to try again. Twice he had explained the simple procedure of laying strips of bacon on the crisper, inserting it in the microwave for three minutes, pouring off the grease, and replacing it for one minute more.9

“OUCH!” This time crisper and contents landed in the sink. Casey was sucking on a burnt finger. 10

A less than compassionate Rebecca was loudly chastising her. “Unc said to keep your fingers off the edge.” Of course this required her to take her attention from the fry pan and the butter and eggs started to burn.11

“No problem,” Unc muttered as he rescued the sputtering fry pan before they had a major grease fire. “Guess what,” he announced. “It’s Mickey Dee’s for breakfast.”12

“YES! YES! Awesome!” was accompanied by twilling, palm slapping and hugs. So Neil found himself laughing along with girls.13

“Come on Casey, I’ll put some ointment on the burn. Becca, put all these efforts into the sink, we'll clean it up later. You two," he pointed at Trisha and Hailey. “Call your moms. Tell them I’ll drop you off after we eat.”14

The quickly developed plan seemed perfect. He would let the restaurant absorb the morning energy of the girls. Then he would drop off Rebecca’s friends, and since his niece was well versed in allowing him to nap for a few hours, he could leave her in her favorite place, his office with his laptop, immersed in the internet. Then he could crash for a couple hours.15


****16


While Doctor Neil Harris’ young charges hurriedly made the simple adjustments teenagers require to be fairly presentable, Doctor Caitlin Sanders sipped her coffee in another area of Manhattan. 17

Once the junior agent, who’d given Caitlin the coffee, fulfilled Special Agent Sanders orders, she left. Caitlin’s ex-husband was busy at his computer, calling up information to cross reference. He ran his fingers through his hair as he contemplated the several screens, flashing on his desk.18

Caitlin found herself plagued with stupid thoughts. Did AJ dye his hair? While nothing else about him had to advertise his creeping towards the big five-o, a few gray hairs should. There were none. The slightly high, military-cut still sported that bright golden brown shine it had when she first saw him. She knew if he should decide to look up at her, the sunlight coming through the window would flash in the electric blue of his eyes.19

He looked up. But the smile she remembered from when they loved one another was gone, replaced now by worry and disgust.20

“Slide your chair over here.” He indicated with a flippant gesture beside his own seat. Obediently, Caitlin backpedaled the wheels over the commercially flat pile until she was parked next to him. Suddenly his lips spread in nasty grin. “Keep yourself up real good Cat. You don’t look much different than you did in that Chinese buffet. This case file in particular looked promising.” He highlighted the text.21

While right then Caitlin wasn’t quite certain how a Chinese buffet fit into the conversation, she didn’t remark on the fact.22

The area of Bucks County Pennsylvania highlighted, Caitlin recognized as a portion of the State known for its limited population and unlimited funds. The eleven-year-old girl went missing from a private school twelve days before Marie. A ransom demand arrived the same day, but wasn’t reported to the police until after the instructions that were promised never materialized. The perpetrator had the girl sixty hours before the parents disclosed the information that brought the FBI into the case. So far Delia Ann Pillsbury was still among the missing.23

“I’m sticking to Stranger Abductions in the surrounding cities and states. A lot of White Slavery going on …”24

“No! Stop it.” That her little girl should end up in that horrible trade. Caitlin’s foodless stomach sent acidic waves of pain upward in her chest while the regurgitated coffee soured her mouth. The idea that one pedophile, with their sick desires was abusing her child was torment enough. To consider that days, months, and years of animals…“No! I can’t let myself imagine that....” Hot tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.25

“Cat, I’m so sorry.” His arm went around her shoulders and he pulled her against his chest. “I know you’re suffering. I am too. But we have to distance ourselves from our emotions if we hope to find our kid.”26

Caitlin pulled out of his embrace, she sniffed, then hunted a tissue in his top drawer. “Anything closer to home?” she demanded. I have to compartmentize the information. Keep every fact clear and concise to lead towards a solution. 27

“I’m trying to sort out the possible run-a-ways. Newark, a month ago had two adolescent girls missing within days of each other. Both taken from schoolyards. In one of those cases the body was found.” He tapped in the file number. “There was no sign of molestation, and she’d died within hours of when she disappeared.”28

Caitlin was already reading and absorbing the information. “Found in an abandon car trunk. Death by asphyxiation. According to forensics, it appeared the child had been covered by a woolen car robe. The girl suffered from asthma and when she rolled over in her drugged sleep, the blanket prevented sufficient air from entering her lungs.  So with her mouth taped shut, she suffocated. That car had to have an owner?”29

“It did. The used car dealership where it was located.” AJ scrolled downward, as they continued to study the information. “The girl, died in a different confinement--though it’s still believed to have been a car trunk.”30

“They’re just speculating.”31

“True. But the Jersey State’s scenario of advents has withstood the tests of the FBI lab. If we question every expert opinion....” Suddenly he turned toward her as if to enforce his conclusions. He stopped. “When was the last time you ate?”32

“Not important.”33

“Yah, right.” He shoved away the desk. “Starvation isn’t going to help either one of us. Let’s get some lunch.”34


****35


Dr. Harris hadn’t been concerned when Trisha Brody didn’t reach her mom right away. Figuring it was a simple lack of understanding, he told Trish to text her mom a message, explaining what was up. That he’d deliver the other girls first and her last. Since Casey and Hailey lived much further away, if Mrs. Brody had overslept or stepped out she’d have time to rectify the situation. 36

Shortly after Trisha received a return text with the word--fine. “That’s my Mom,” Trisha giggled, “The one word wonder.”37

So when he drew up in front of the apartment building that the Brody family called home, it was almost noon. The fact there were no lights showing wasn’t surprising, since only the front windows could be seen; but being a very responsible adult, Neil took Rebecca with him and accompanied Trisha up in the elevator.38

At apartment 8-A on the eighth floor, they waited with elevator door ajar while Trisha punched in the security code, shoved the door open and called out, “Mom…I’m home.” The door swung shut.39