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her as if to hit her hadn’t looked like the first time he’d done that. Nevertheless, this was all getting to be a bit too much for me, and I really wanted some time alone to think everything through.

“This is my number,” I said as I scribbled my personal cell number onto the back of one of my business cards. “I have to get going soon, but you can call me if you want to talk again.”

“I will,” she smiled warmly at me.

“Goodbye, Mother,” I nodded before turning around and walking away briskly. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected when I’d come here today, but it hadn’t been to reestablish contact with my estranged mother. I kept walking, trying to focus on anything aside from the confusing thoughts and emotions swirling through my head.

I kept walking until my feet hit the sand. My parents lived close to the beach, and it had only taken me about ten minutes to walk here. There were tourists milling around and enjoying the warm day. Despite the people, there was no trash or debris on the beach. The entire coast was a shining, pure white against the deep and clear blue of the ocean beyond it. Bermuda had some of the most gorgeous beaches in the world, so it was no wonder that it was such a popular tourist destination.

I walked about halfway down the beach before taking a seat on the ground. The sand was soft and smooth beneath my fingers, and I watched, mesmerized as it flowed out of my hands.

It was a shame Charlie hadn’t been able to enjoy the beach while he’d been here. It seemed like such a waste to visit the Caribbean and not spend at least some time at its famously beautiful beaches. Even without getting into the water, I could feel the tension in my muscles melting away as I listened to the waves crash along the shore and breathed in the cool and salty sea air.

I smiled as I thought about what the future might hold for me. I’d come here hoping that I wouldn't have to see my parents and was somehow going home eagerly awaiting my mother’s phone call. It was amazing how quickly things could change.

40

Junior

I sighed as I looked through the two-way mirror into the interrogation room. Sandra Baker was sitting on the other side of the glass, face ashen and tear-streaked. She’d been transferred into our custody earlier this morning and was currently waiting to be interrogated. My arm was in a sling, and I was honestly in a bit of a crabby mood. The suspect we’d arrested in the mine a few days prior had shot me in my left shoulder. As a result, I hadn’t been able to use my dominant hand to do anything and wouldn’t be able to do so for several more weeks. It was irritating to reach for something unconsciously only to be hit with a jolt of pain. I obviously couldn’t shoot, either, so I was on desk duty until further notice.

I took a deep breath to settle my nerves. I wasn’t sure how I should approach this interrogation. Baker was the leader of the trafficking ring, but she didn’t seem like a bad person. Like the Andersons, she genuinely seemed to care about the children we’d found in her office. Likewise, the children hadn’t seemed injured or upset. The social worker I’d spoken with also told me that they’d apparently been asking for her. I couldn’t imagine how or why someone seemingly so kind and caring could have done something like this, and so I didn’t know how to handle this.

“You just gonna stand there all day?” Miranda’s voice suddenly cut across my thoughts.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” I responded distractedly. “And I’m just trying to figure out the best way to talk to her. She looks terrified in there, but she’s got to have some mettle if she was calling the shots behind the scenes this whole time, right?”

“I guess,” Miranda shrugged. “Or she just got really lucky. Anyway, hurry up. I want to head out before it gets too late. We still need to go get Charlie before we head to the airport to pick up Naomi.”

“Okay,” I rolled my eyes at her as she bounded out of the room.

She’d never given up on the idea of having all of us go out together for a night on the strip and had insisted on doing it as soon as Naomi got back, which would be this evening. All we had left to do was to conduct the final interrogation with Sandra Baker, and we’d be able to close the case. Miranda had declared that we needed to celebrate that very night.

I sighed as I turned back toward the interrogation room. Despite my reservations, I wouldn’t get anywhere just standing out here and fretting over it, so without further delay, I pushed open the door and strode into the room.

Baker flinched as I entered and stared up at me with wide, frightened eyes. I found it difficult to believe that this pathetic wisp of a woman was the leader of a child trafficking ring. Maybe Miranda had been right when she said that Baker might have just gotten lucky.

Her hands fidgeted as I took a seat in front of her. For a moment, it looked as though she was going to try to put up a brave front as she raised her chin and glared at me, but her bravado lasted all of three seconds before she dropped her gaze down to the table.

“Sandra Baker,” I began stoically, “Thirty-four years old, never married, graduated from the University of Nevada with a BSW in Social Work. No children on record, despite the fact that we found three young kids in your custody the day we arrested you. Is that all correct?”

I watched her face carefully as I spoke and noted that she tensed as I mentioned the children.

“That’s right,”

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