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“Did you notify Child Protective Services?” I ask, still flipping through the pages.
“Yup. They’ll be doing a walk-through of the place later today. I let them know that this needs to be a surprise visit. I don’t want Mr. and Mrs. Myers to be prepared,” Damian replies.
Alex is reading over my shoulder and points to a paragraph on the page. “Says here that they’re housing four foster kids. That’s a lot of cake in their pockets. The government pays for each kid but I bet you my last buck those kids get the bare minimum.”
“What’s worse is that they’re all girls. They only accept girls,” Damian says suspiciously.
“You’re thinking Tamira ran away because someone was sexually inappropriate?” I ask. Unfortunately, it’s not unheard of and far too common.
“We’re getting ahead of ourselves. First things first, let’s find this kid and get her story before something really bad happens to her,” Alex says.
Right on cue, Zeke comes to join us. “I got some footage from traffic cameras in the vicinity of where Tamira was last seen.” He throws down a slightly fuzzy photo, but the face is clear enough to make out. “Someone took a fist to her face.” Zeke is pissed. That’s the worst kind of angry. The silent kind where it boils up inside and you can see the steam rising as his face turns red.
It’s my job to get them to focus on the task at hand. “What was the camera location where Tamira was last sighted?”
“Everest and Grove,” Zeke replies.
“That’s a bad neighborhood. Gang territory,” Alex says.
“We work in pairs. Zeke, you’re with me.” I point to the map on my wall. “We’ll start here. “Damian and Alex, you’re at the other end. Concentrate on abandoned buildings, alleys, and community centers.”
I take Zeke with me because, as amazing as he is as a detective and as a first-rate IT tech guy, he’s the youngest and least experienced of the four of us. Zeke’s been our inside research guy since he’s been with us but has recently expressed his interest in being more than that. His shooting skills are off-the-charts fantastic, and he’s got excellent maneuvering tactics. But it’s my job to make sure he’s a hundred-percent prepared for what happens out in the field, and Zeke’s going to get that attention.
“I hate to bring this up, but what about Karen?” Damian asks. Both Alex and Zeke look from Damian to me with confused expressions.
“Christ!” I swear. “I do not have time for that woman’s shit.” I call down to Ron and ask if they’re still holding Karen.
“Yes, sir. I’ve written my report. She pretty much screwed herself by mouthing off about how she went to your home to surprise you. Totally ignored the restraining order and kept spouting off about how much you were both in love,” Ron says.
The missing kid comes first. “Can you hold her for a couple more hours? We got a missing girl.”
“She lawyered up an hour ago. I can draw it out a few more hours.”
“Great, if anything changes, call me and I’ll come back to get my statement down.” I turn to the guys, “I got a couple of hours and want to cover as much ground as possible. Let’s go.”
* * *
A couple of hours turned into three and a half and resulted in finding Tamira in a back alley rummaging through garbage for food. She was hesitant at first to speak to us about what had happened in her foster home, but when she found out she might be sent back, she told us all about the abuse.
The foster mother wasn’t as bad as we thought. She’s negligent, but she never put her hands on Tamira. Her husband would occasionally get vocal, but never laid a hand on Tamira or the other girls. What we did find out is that their sixteen-year-old son was touching her inappropriately, and that day when she came home from school, he tried to rape her. This wasn’t his first attempt, nor did he limit his attention only to Tamira. Once Tamira opened up, the other girls came forward. The youngest is eight.
With Jay in custody and the girls removed from the home, our job is done, for now. I go back to the station to give my statement to Ron. I found out then that Ron dropped by the library and spoke to Gwendolyn regarding what she saw that day as well.
“Gwen’s really nice, sir. You’d think she would have been more rattled by the whole situation, but she seems to be taking it okay,” Ron says.
“Thanks for taking the time to go to her. I’m sure she appreciated it.” I pat the man on the back.
“I haven’t been to the library since my kids were in elementary school. Gwen showed me around. She’s thinking of having a craft sale as a fundraiser for something called Zaira Lives. My wife would be all over that.” He picks up a flyer from his desk. “I’ll give it to Shelly tonight. Maybe she can help out. She likes that sort of thing, especially when it’s for a good cause.”
My chest tightens at the sound of Zaira’s name. There was a gaping hole that Zaira filled, and even though Gwen seems to be doing great with moving on, it must weigh heavily on her mind that she’s the only one left in her family.
I make my way back to my office, calling the guys in to join me.
“Do you think Chloe, Bri, and Jaz would want to help out with a fundraiser?” I ask.
“Jaz is always helping out, but for who or for what?” Zeke replies.
“I’m not sure how much you know about Gwen’s kid sister. She died a while back from a heart problem. I found out Gwen’s planning to raise funds for the cause under Zaira’s name.” I let out a heavy breath. “I’m crap at that sort of thing.”
