Chapter Eleven
After Malone left the office, Nick closed the door. “Come here for one second.”
Knowing he needed it as much as she did, Sam stood, went around the desk and stepped into his embrace.
“I hate that you had to open that old wound to make her understand what’s at stake here. I hate that you still hurt the way you do, the way you always will, and more than anything, I hate to hear that, for a time, you didn’t want to be here anymore.”
“You knew that.”
“I don’t think I did.”
“Well, I’m sorry you heard about it like that.
It was a few weeks of true darkness that’ve never been repeated, thankfully.
I don’t hurt the way I used to. I’ll always be sorry we weren’t able to have a baby together but look at what we do have.
Our kids are everything I could ever want and then some.
I don’t yearn for things I used to think I wanted more than anything.
If I have you and our kids, I have it all. ”
“And soon, they’ll all be legally ours.” Their court date for the official adoption of Elijah and the twins was fast approaching.
“I can’t wait for that.” She kissed him. “Thank you for the hug. It helped.”
He released her so she could get back to work trying to find Ethan. “I’m here all day.”
“That makes everything better.”
She dove into the research on the Mayfield family. “It’s curious, isn’t it, that the kid I’m looking for once lived in the same Truxton Circle neighborhood as Luna Ahern.”
“That is an interesting connection. How can I have lived in and around DC for almost twenty years and still be hearing neighborhood names for the first time?”
“Truxton Circle is also known as East Shaw. Named for a Navy guy who had a circle dedicated to his memory at Florida Ave and North Capitol Street in 1900 or something before they later removed it because it was causing so many accidents.”
“And you just happen to know that?”
“My dad used to tell me stories about where the neighborhoods got their names. He knew them all.”
“Wow.”
“I think their proximity to each other is a connection worth investigating further. Maybe Brecken Mayfield met Luna Ahern in the neighborhood and became interested. She ignored him, which made him mad enough to want to go after her.” Sam flipped through her notes from the night before and called the number for Luna’s mother, Court.
“Did you find her?” Court asked when she answered.
“Not yet, but I have a question. You said Luna had trouble with boys who couldn’t take no for an answer.”
“Yes, it’s a constant problem for her, even though she’s too young for such things.”
“You said the name Brecken Mayfield meant nothing to you. Is that still the case now that you’ve had time to think about it?”
“I’ve thought about it constantly since you were here last night, and I can’t recall her ever mentioning that name.”
“What about a nickname, like B or Breck or BM or—”
“BM,” she said. “There was a kid she called Shithead. Could that be him?”
“That’s a possible connection,” Sam said, feeling the buzz of a potential breakthrough. “What did she say about this Shithead kid?”
“That he was the worst of the worst, so full of himself and relentless in his pursuit of her.”
“Did she ever give you particulars about anything he said or did?”
“No, just that he didn’t like the fact that she ignored him. He said she was disrespectful and rude, but he couldn’t seem to see that his harassment of her was equally so.”
“Did you or her father ever report him to anyone?”
“We argued about that. I said we should report it to the police, but Jordy said it seemed extreme to ruin a kid’s life over a difference of opinion.”
Sam cringed. She’d already heard enough to know it’d gone well beyond a difference of opinion. “Had she said anything about this kid recently?”
Court thought about that for a second. “Not in a few weeks, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t encounter him. It just means that she didn’t talk to me about him.”
“I have to ask you something that’s going to sound super judgmental, but I don’t mean it to be anything other than fact-finding. Okay?”
“Trust me, I’m already judging myself for letting her have so much freedom.”
“That’s what I want to ask about. Why did you allow that, knowing she was being harassed by older boys?”
“Because she assured me she wasn’t afraid and could handle them. She has pepper spray with her at all times and knows to use it if she ever feels she’s in real danger. I didn’t want to keep her locked up at home just because she’s pretty, you know?”
“I get it.”
“But you wouldn’t have allowed it?”
“It wouldn’t be fair for me to comment on that. I know things that you’ll never know about what goes on in this city, things most people wouldn’t want to know. And my kids have world-class security surrounding them at all times. I’ll never have to make these decisions for them.”
“That’s true, and I wish I knew more about the scary stuff. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so permissive with her. I hope I get the chance to correct that.” Her voice caught on a sob. “I miss her so much. I just want her back home where she belongs. I’ll never let her out of my sight again.”
“Yes, you will, because it’s normal to give your kids freedom as they get older. This information has helped. I’ll be back to you with any developments.”
“Thank you for all you’re doing.”
“I wish it could be more, but we’re on it, and we’re staying on it until we find them. Call me if you think of anything else that might be relevant. Anything at all.”
“I will.”
Sam ended the call and thought about her next move before she called her parole officer friend, Brendan Sullivan.
“Hey, it’s Sam Holland,” she said when Brendan answered. “As usual, I need a favor.”
“What can I do?”
“I need to talk to one of your juvenile people. I’m looking for a kid in your system. Who should I contact?”
“Tristan McCaffery, the lead juvenile parole officer. He can help you. I’ll give you his cell number.”
Sam wrote down the phone number he recited. “Thank you, Brendan.”
“No problem. Heard about your nephew, and I’m hoping for the best possible outcome.”
“Appreciate it. We are, too.”
“Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”
“Thanks again.”
She ended that call and punched in the number for Tristan McCaffery. Glancing at Nick, she found him watching her intently. “What?”
“Watching you work is sexy.”
“Oh for crap’s sake.”
“What? It is.”
She rolled her eyes and listened to the phone ring and ring.
Come on. Pick up. The only thing that picked up was his voicemail.
“This is Lieutenant Sam Holland with the MPD. Please give me a call as soon as possible. It’s urgent.
” She left her number even though he’d already have it on the Caller ID, but whatever. “Thanks.”
“Harry texted me. Aubrey and Alden both have strep. Scotty tested negative. He’s started the twins on antibiotics. Your mom says they’re snuggled up together on the sofa watching a movie.”
“Oh man. I hate that we’re not there when they’re sick.”
“They’re in very good hands.”
She’d no sooner said that than McCaffery called her back. “Hey, this is Lieutenant Holland in Homicide. Thanks for returning my call.”
“No problem. What can I do for you?”
“I’m looking for Brecken Mayfield.”
“How do you know about him?”
“His name came up in an investigation I’m working on, a missing persons case.”
“And his name came up in that?”
“Yes as did your outstanding warrant.”
“He’s been in our system since he was twelve.”
Sam’s backbone buzzed with sensation as she homed in on a real thread to pull. “What can you tell me?”
“He’s a fucking punk, the type who thinks the rules don’t apply to him. He got caught shoplifting hundreds of dollars’ worth of merchandise at twelve, spent time in juvie, came out and picked up where he left off. He’s escalated to B&E and grand larceny.”
“Do you have an address for him?”
“Not at the moment. He’s in the wind. We’ve been looking for him for months. Incidentally, his father is also wanted for parole violations on DV charges.”
Domestic violence.
“Sounds like a charming family.”
“That’s a good word for them. How did he end up on your radar?”
Sam filled him in on her missing nephew and the connection to a kid named Brecken Mayfield.
“It wouldn’t surprise me at all if he convinced the younger kids to do some dirty work for him and it possibly went bad.”
Sam swallowed hard as she considered the many ways dirty work could go bad. “How so?”
“Could be anything with him. He’s the ultimate con man.”
“We’re talking about a kid here, right?”
“Yeah, but he’s not your average fifteen-year-old. I’m not a mental health professional and can’t make an official diagnosis, but in my opinion, he has sociopathic tendencies.”
Her anxiety increased with every new piece of information. “What’s the deal with the father?”
“He’s a slippery sucker. Manages to get himself out of most jams thanks to his equally sleazy attorney. Do you know Roland Dunning?”
“I’ve had the displeasure.” He’d represented disgraced former Deputy Chief Conklin, who’d sat on evidence that would’ve solved her father’s shooting years earlier while Conklin pretended to be a friend to their family.
“Yeah, well, he’s really good at getting Mayfield off on slam-dunk charges. A few things have stuck, though, which is why he’s in the parole system. There’re warrants out for both him and his son since they’ve fallen off the radar and missed check-ins.”
“Is there anything else you can tell me that might be helpful in finding Brecken?”
“If I had something that would lead to him, he’d be in my custody. That kid has no business running the streets looking for more trouble.”
“Any chance you can send me a photo of him as well as a list of his usual haunts and known associates? I know you’re probably checking them all, but maybe we could, too. Who knows what might pop?”
“Sure, I’ll send it to your email.”
Sam recited the address. “This has been enormously helpful. Thank you so much.”