Heart Wish Page 2

  CHAPTER 2

  JAMESON

  I ADJUST MY BLUETOOTH MIC as I stare at my iPad. I try to disguise my frustration as I watch my supervisor, Tristan, explain what he wants me to do over the pixelated video call. I’m still having trouble wrapping my brain around what he’s asking of me. Scowling, I ask again, “Are you sure you want me to do that? We are getting dangerously close to having to pay a penalty on our current job. When we get hired for these military contracts, they don’t mess around — especially when we’re called in to fix someone else’s screw up.”

  Tristan nods. “I know. I sign those contracts, remember? You guys don’t have anything left on the job Kinsey can’t handle. She doesn’t have as much experience as you, but she’s a darn good programmer. I need your skills over at Locate My Heart.”

  Unfortunately, I don’t look away from the camera quick enough, and Tristan catches my eye roll. “Problem?” he asks sharply.

  I grimace as I answer, “Honestly? Yeah, I have a problem with places like that. To me, they’re no better than those late-night fortunetellers who come on TV and charge you hundreds of dollars per minute to read from a lame script.”

  “Why do you say that?” Tristan asks with a scowl.

  “They’re a bunch of scam artists. Crooks who give families that are already in crisis, and suffering the worst possible pain imaginable, false hope. These places string them along for their own enrichment. They don’t do anything that the police and the FBI can’t do. Yet, they insert themselves into an already-complicated situation and make it worse. Organizations like Locate My Heart are the worst type of predators. They are like modern-day snake oil salesman.”

  Tristan shakes his head. “Geez Jameson, why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

  “Just being straight with you, man.”

  “Let me tell you what I know,” my boss says with a somber expression. “This was before you started with us, but Aidan did a charity concert for Locate My Heart. We did a full security workup on them. They passed with flying colors. They have one of the smallest administrative budgets we’ve ever seen in a charity and they never charge families for their services. Colette Stephens started Locate My Heart after her son, Jasper, was kidnapped, and she couldn’t get anyone to listen to her because she and her husband were going through a divorce. Everyone assumed her husband kidnapped her son. It never was her husband — it was a deranged schizophrenic who had some delusion that her child belonged to him. Because the police assumed that it was Colette’s husband, no one bothered to look for the child for several days. By the time they started looking for Jasper, it was too late.”

  “You can believe what you want to, but nobody does something nice for the sake of being nice. That’s not how people work. There’s always some sort of private agenda. Eventually, the truth will come out. When it does, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Okay, whatever you say. I’m a nice guy and I am going to send my best computer expert to solve their computer problem. Since you happen to be my best computer guy, you’re going to go. I’ll have Kinsey finish up what you’re doing. Pack your bags. You’re going to a small town outside of Salem, Oregon.”

  I smirk at Tristan. “You’re lucky that old saw isn’t true. I guess you can go home again. I suppose my folks will be happy to see me.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You’re from Oregon, aren’t you?” Tristan asks. “Anywhere close to Salem?”

  “I grew up in Cottage Grove. It’s south of Eugene. I’ll just rent a car. Hopefully I’ll have time to pop in to see them once I figure out what’s going on at the job site.”

  “You’ve been working a few months straight, why don’t you take some days off after you’ve finished up with Locate My Heart? You haven’t seen your family in a while — not since the last time you worked for Aidan, right?”

  “Yeah, I consulted on that stalking case with Logan. That was a weird one. I’m glad Tasha is doing okay now.”

  “Time is of the essence here. They’ve got a missing infant case they’re working. Do you want me to send a plane for you, or do you want to take a commercial flight?” Tristan asks.

  I know Tristan has money to burn, but questions like that always take me off guard. I blow out a breath to stall as I try to come up with an answer which doesn’t sound rude. “No, that isn’t necessary. I’m already in Seattle working on the military contract, so it’s not far to Salem. By the time you get your planes here from Florida, I could be down there. I’ll just go to Sea-Tac and hop on a shuttle.”

  “Are you sure? I could lease a private plane out of Seattle.”

  “No, Tristan, it’s fine,” I insist. “If you could’ve seen the planes I had to fly on when I was in the military, regular coach is no big deal. If you want to do anything, donate the money you would’ve used to fly a private plane to legit agencies that look for missing children. They could use the money more than I need a private flight.”

  “Consider it done. Be sure to use your corporate credit card when you book your flight. Call me when you land in Salem. Your contact at Locate My Heart is Kendall Kordes and you’ll be working with Tyler Colton at Sheriff’s Office.”

  “Affirmative. I’ve dealt with Tyler before. I will check in later.”

  When I walk into the Sheriff’s office, the receptionist escorts me to the doorway of the conference room with her finger to her lips in a gesture of caution to be quiet. As soon as I look inside, I see why. Tyler, standing next to a giant poster of an infant dressed in a tiny baseball jersey, is explaining the circumstances of the disappearance to a room full of reporters, some with video cameras pointed at him. Next to him is someone I assume to be the baby’s grandmother. When Tyler finishes speaking, the grandmother pleads for the baby’s return. I wonder why the parents aren’t making this plea. A reporter must have read my mind, as she asks the same question. Tyler replies, “The mother is so overcome with grief and anxiety that she’s being treated at the hospital, and her husband is currently attending to her.”

  Tyler vividly paints a picture of the pain the family is experiencing, and I’m transported to another time and place. I remember placing scratchy, unreliable phone calls from overseas to my mom while she tried to cope with the pain of a missing child. The doctors told me my mother had cardiogenic shock otherwise known as ‘broken heart syndrome’. She came precariously close to dying. We almost lost my brother and my mom on the same day. I pray the same thing doesn’t happen to this family.

  After Tyler wraps up the press conference, he walks over to me and shakes my hand. “Hey, Jameson, it’s great to see you. I never got a chance to properly thank you for your help on the Tasha Keeley case. Your work saved my forensic team tons of time. Hers was one of the weirdest cases I’ve seen in a while.”

  “No problem. I’m just glad Tasha has such a great support team around her and was able to cut ties with her abuser.”

  “Thanks for getting here so quickly. I guess we were fortunate you were on this coast.”

  “I suppose so. I have to be honest. I’m not a big fan of this assignment.”

  “Really? I’ve worked with both Colette and Kendall before. They’re good people. Locate My Heart does great work.”

  “If they do, they are the exception to the rule. In my experience, most of the groups like this are all like virus-ridden vultures that take advantage of families when they are at their most vulnerable. Psychics, search and rescue groups, and media representation — they all want a piece of you.”

  “Old wounds?” Tyler asks insightfully.

  “You could say that. My little brother disappeared when I was serving overseas. Nobody wanted to believe that he didn’t disappear voluntarily. In all these years, no one looked for him. They just wrote him off as an angsty teenager who didn’t get along with his parents. I never figured that was fair to my brother or my parents. Since I was already out of the house and serving Uncle Sam, I didn’t have much say in it.”

  Tyler looks at me with his
mouth agape. “You know that your boss is one of the preeminent locators of missing people in the whole nation, right? What does Tristan say?”

  I shrug as I avert my gaze and study the floor. “Actually, I haven’t shared this part of my past. I didn’t want to look like I took the job because of the personal perks. I wanted Tristan to hire me for my skills. I didn’t want to seem like I was desperate for the job because of what it could offer me.”

  Tyler studies me for a second before he shakes his head in disbelief. “I take it you and Tristan haven’t had one of his famous inspirational talks.”

  “Inspirational talks?” I ask.

  “You know ... the one where he takes you on a tour of his whole facility and tells you how he got started when he was barely out of elementary school? He goes into his whole background and explains why he started the business and his whole business philosophy.”

  “No, I guess I haven’t heard the speech. When I came on board, Tristan was in the middle of a crisis. We haven’t slowed down much since. I haven’t had the formal introduction.”

  “May be worth your while to take a few moments next time you’re back in Florida to have Tristan tell you the whole story. It might give you some insight into the man you’re working for.” Tyler explains. “At any rate, I know for a fact that Tristan would support helping you search for your little brother.”

  “Yeah? Why is that?” I follow Tyler down the hallway.

  Tyler turns and looks at me with a puzzled expression as he says, “Tristan started Identity Bank in large part so he’d have the resources to help his mom find the little girl she gave up for adoption when she was in college. I thought everyone who worked for Identity Bank knew.”

  “I guess not everyone. Tristan has a sister?” I ask, trying to hide the surprise in my voice. Although I’m not close friends with Tristan, I figured I knew him well enough to know something like that.

  “The way I understand it, after he found her, his sister passed away during a routine operation. His mom raised her grandson as her own.”

  I roll my shoulder as I mutter, “Oh, that explains a lot. I always wondered why Elliott was so much younger than Tristan. I figured it’d be rude to ask. I just kept my mouth shut and figured it was none of my business.”

  “That’s funny. Tristan’s private about most areas in his life, but that’s one of the few areas he discusses because it’s part of the talk that he gives when he asks for donations to Elliott’s House and the programs related to it. He has a condensed version of his life story that he tells investors to let them know how important it is for kids who have lost their parents to have a place to grieve and receive specialized counseling and meet other kids who are in the same situation.”

  “That’s kinda cool. I see flyers for Elliott’s House around work, but I’m not usually included in that side of things, so I haven’t really looked into it. That’s a great way to honor his sister.”

  “The more you learn about your boss, the more you’ll understand that many of the things that Tristan does are over-the-top and epic. That’s one of the reasons we all respect him so much. Tristan and his wife, Rogue, are special folks.” Tyler leans forward and peeks his head in an open doorway. He leans back and says, “Oh, great. Kendall is here.”

  We enter a small conference room. On one side of the room is a two-way mirror and on the other side of the room is a set of TV monitors. I see pictures of a baby boy flashing up on the screen. It strikes me again how tiny the baby is. There’s nothing in his little gummy grin or in his warm brown eyes with long eyelashes which hints at the terrible tragedy that happened today. In that picture, he looks like the world’s calmest, happiest baby.

  I take a moment to study the woman in front of me. Her long, blonde curls have slid off the side of her graceful neck as she hunches over a file, intently reading. She doesn’t even seem to notice us in the doorway even though we were talking. Finally, Tyler clears his throat softly.

  The woman jerks her head and hastily removes her glasses and stashes them in her jacket pocket. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were there. I was searching the reports for some clues. Regrettably, I didn’t find any.” She points to her pile of notes. “Of course, it would help if I knew what I was looking for. I can’t believe no one saw anything.”

  I look up at Tyler and ask, “No security footage? I thought this incident took place at some sort of strip mall.”

  Tyler sighs. “You’d think with today’s technology we’d have better luck, but on this day, the camera gods were not with us. They are remodeling where it happened. While they prepared to paint, they took down all the security cameras around the restroom. In the parking lot next to the entrance to the store, someone recently hit the pole with their car and took out the power source to the only operational camera in the whole parking lot. The business beside the store recently went out of business, and the one on the other side of that store had a computer malfunction and lost its hard drive. We’re flying blind. No one can remember seeing anything out of the ordinary. One clerk remembers hearing a baby crying, but she also reports that the baby’s cries did not seem unusually sharp or distressed, so she paid them no mind.”

  “I don’t know how Isaac and Tristan did this, but I have copies of the police report your officer took, and I have reviewed them. You know what stuck out to me? The mother-in-law’s statement that she left her daughter-in-law alone in the bathroom with the baby. I don’t personally have any kids, but I know my mom. She wouldn’t allow that kind of thing, even if she were trying to spare my wife’s feelings or something. I think I read somewhere that Asher had colic and cried all the time. That’s the reason they were searching the city for that special kind of pacifier thingy, right?”

  The blonde looks up at me and nods. “I guess they were looking for a blue Soothie. Apparently, the little guy got used to it when he was in the NICU and he doesn’t like to take anything else. They were all feeling pretty desperate. I guess Bethany hasn’t been getting much sleep.”

  “The whole thing just doesn’t make any sense. If the baby was screaming, why wouldn’t the mother-in-law stick around to help out?”

  Tyler nods at me. “That struck me as odd as well. Most moms would welcome another hand in the bathroom.”

  “It just seems to me like someone in the family should have had more common sense — that’s all I’m saying,” I comment as I take a seat. I throw my briefcase on the table and start to dig out my files. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the woman bristle.

  “Believe it or not, it’s not always about common sense. Sometimes, things happen that are so far out of your comfort zone and realm of experience you can’t even imagine that they’re happening to you. You might think you’ll know how to deal with that kind of thing, but trust me you don’t,” she insists hotly before she takes a gulp of what passes for coffee in this place. She grimaces and then looks away. She swallows hard and takes a deep breath. “You can’t know what its like to have your child disappear.”

  After a few moments Kendall adds, “I presume you’re from Identity Bank. Are you going to help me put the brains of my operation back together so that I can get back to work? I have a little boy who is counting on my ability to do my job. Right now, it’s as if someone has blindfolded me and tied both hands behind my back and placed me on a roller coaster in another state. I need the files on my computer and to be able to send out emails to the appropriate people. We’ve got to get the ball rolling. I can’t be held hostage like this. I know it’s not the same as what Asher is going through, but being held as a virtual hostage isn’t fun either.”

  “I understand,” I say as I lean back and cross my ankle over my knee.

  “I don’t think you do,” she mutters as she focuses on the file. She flips a few more pages in the file and then looks up at me as she rubs her temples. “Honestly, I don’t know what they want. We certainly don’t have any money. The coffers of Locate My Heart are very lean. Anyone who looks at our website would kno
w that. We post our balance sheet online every three months. We are completely transparent. We hide nothing. We pay for forensic sketches, search teams, billboards, magazine ads, flyers — all the things you’d expect from an agency which searches for missing children. We don’t have a million dollars hanging around to pay anybody. That should be painfully obvious to anyone who takes a half a second to look.”

  “While that might be technically true of Locate My Heart, there are plenty of charities who don’t run the way yours allegedly does. A lot of people use the money they raise to go on exotic vacations and get themselves fancy cars, buy their way onto television shows or go on questionable staff retreats, if you know what I mean —”

  “I don’t know what kind of charities you’ve been working with, but that’s not the way we do things here. Colette has a specific vision for Locate My Heart and what we need to accomplish as an agency. Our goal is to find every single missing child ever reported to us as quickly as we possibly can.”

  “With all due respect Ms. —” I wait for her to finish the introduction before I move on.

  “Kordes,” she supplies automatically before crossing her arms and leveling a stare at me.

  When I hear the exotic name, I raise an eyebrow and mutter, “Of course it is.”

  She gives me a startled look and retorts, “My name is Kendall Kordes, not Ted Bundy or Jeffrey Dahmer. Look, it’s not my fault that I have an unusual name. My parents named me that.”

  “You need to see it from my perspective. I work in the cyber world where people pretend to be something they’re not all the time. A lot of times people make up flowery names when they are not who they say they are, that's all I'm saying.”

  Kendall turns toward Tyler. “I’m sorry I wasted your time today, but I need to move on to someone who is willing to help me solve my problem, and clearly, this gentleman is not that person. I’ve got better things to do today than to try to soothe his ego or frayed nerves or whatever else is going on with him. There is a little boy who is on the medically-fragile side and a sick, distraught mom who isn’t doing much better. I need to find her son before something even more tragic happens to him. If you don’t mind, I need to beat the bushes to find someone who is willing to help us.” She stares directly at me. “I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure, but it really hasn’t.”