Page 52 of Logan

He was on the phone and pointed over to the corner of his office in a silent order for me to wait. I stepped aside and closed the door behind me, ready to wait as long as necessary. Any call Mason took on the office phone had to be important, because he only gave that number out for official business.

I occupied myself counting the cracks in the ceiling, until Mason’s conversation caught my attention.

Maryland?

Why was he talking about Maryland?

Listening in, I couldn’t tell what the conversation was about, but it seemed to include a list of different places all over the country.

Nearly ten minutes later, I was bursting with curiosity when he finally hung up the phone.

“Logan. I assume this is about your recent mission. I’ve got the report right here. So, how’d it go? Seems like it was even more successful than we expected.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” The conversation I overheard had completely derailed my thoughts process, and I struggled to remember why I’d even stepped into the office.

I gave Mason a basic summary of what had happened the other night, but I barely paid attention to what I was saying.

One word resonated over and over in my mind.

Maryland.

When I finished, Mason thanked me and casually dismissed me from his office, but I hung near the door, debating with myself.

“Um, Mason,” I said before I’d fully decided to open my mouth. “What was that call about earlier? It seemed… important.”

I expected to be ignored, or maybe outright scolded for being nosy, but instead Mason just sighed and ran an exasperated hand through his hair before staring forlornly at his phone.

“We’ve been making a lot of progress with this Bell ringer case.”

“Okay? And that’s a good thing, so what’s the problem?”

He sighed again, and for the first time, I noticed slivers of gray at his temples. He wasn’t old, but he was no longer a young man either. Being the leader of the FPA was difficult under normal conditions, but with the extra workload we’d had recently, he was obviously feeling the strain.

“Success is good, yes. But the aftermath often leaves us with a lot of victims that need to be taken care of. Even this most recent mission brought us two extra victims we weren’t expecting.”

The image of the two children I’d pulled out of the van flashed before my eyes, and I could still feel their weight in my arms.

“Yes, we’re saving people. Kids. That’s our job.”

I still wasn’t seeing the problem. Mason was talking about our success as if it was a bad thing.

Did he want us to not save people?

“Our job is about more than just protecting them for a single moment. It’s in the job description. Protect and serve. Protecting is easy, but serving is a lot more difficult. Many of these victims don’t have families that can take care of them. We have to find some place for them, but resources are limited. Most care homes and foster facilities aren’t equipped for the type of severe trauma that the victims we rescue are suffering from, and the facilities that can handle it are already filled to capacity. To put it simply, we’re running out of safe places to put the victims we rescue.”

His earlier conversation that I’d overheard finally made more sense, though I was still confused about the location.

“So, you’re reaching out to other facilities for help to find placement for the victims. But why go so far as Maryland?”

Mason’s desk was always immaculately clean. He never took out more than one thing at a time, and always put it back before moving on to something else. When he pulled out, not one, but three different folders and spread them over his desk simultaneously, I knew he was stressed.

“We aren’t the only ones facing this problem. The recent combined efforts on the Bell ringer case have caused a similar over-taxation of resources in many areas. We’re having to look farther and farther away to find accommodation for victims. Those kids you saved the other day need to be placed somewhere, and a facility in Maryland is the closest place I’ve found with vacancies.”

Gritting his teeth and growling low under his breath, he slammed one of the files closed, nearly knocking it right off the desk.

“At least, that’s the plan. Getting them to Maryland is proving to be nearly impossible. There’s no budget for three last minute plane tickets since their caseworker has to go with them. A long car trip will be stressful for them, but it’s looking like the only option.”

This wasn’t part of my job. Finding safe placement for victims was someone else’s responsibility. I should have just turned around and walked out of the office door.

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