Page 47 of Resolution

The others came back into the room carrying plates and mugs of coffee.

“You were saying…medicine man?” Max asked.

“She was born on the Navajo reservation in Arizona. She’s in poor health, so I thought she’d do better back home on the rez, for a little while anyway. There’s nothing like traditional medicine and faith in a medicine man. I honestly believe that faith in something has healing properties all on its own.”

“I’m in total agreement,” Beth said, sipping her coffee. “When I work with kids who’ve been traumatized, I always get a feel for their belief systems and use what they tell me to decide whether what they’ve been taught is harmful or helpful.”

“How so?” Miguel asked.

“Well, for example, if a kid tells you he’s Christian or Muslim, or fill in the blank for whatever religion, but then you see scars from a cane on his back which are obviously the result of child abuse, there’s a possibility an adult was justifying the harsh behavior by using religion to punish. It happens all the time. On the other hand, lots of kids with religious faith take comfort in their belief systems. Sometimes faith is the foundation that helps heal, and sometimes that kid has lived in terror and just the mention of their faith, freaks them out.”

I nodded. “That sounds a lot like you’re working from a psychological point of view,” I said. “Which I’m sure works with kids.”

“Lincoln’s team is different,” Kindness said. She pointed at Leo. “Leo is our profiler, right?” I nodded. “His whole job is to decipher what’s going on in a suspect’s mind. Believe me, a lot of loonies are motivated by what they call their ‘faith.’” She made air quotes.

“I get it.”

There was a knock at the hotel room door and Max went to answer it. A few seconds later, Lincoln, Mac, Perez, Cassidy, and Mike walked into the room. Cassidy immediately walked over and put a hand on Miguel’s shoulder.

“How’re you feeling, Miguel? I heard you had a dizzy spell last night.” He glanced over at Kindness and nodded before looking back down at Miguel. “Mike and I get updates,” he replied to the unasked question.

“I feel much better. No more dizziness and the bruises look worse than they feel,” Miguel said, reaching up to prod the cheekbone under his right eye. “I have a low-level headache but that’s about it.”

Cassidy patted him on the back. “Good.”

Lincoln, Mac, and our detective friends all shook hands with us as the agents cleared away cups and plates from the table.

“I’m glad to hear you’re doing better, Miguel,” Lincoln said, taking a seat at the table and putting down a laptop. “We’ve made some progress on this case, and we wanted to share it with you two.” He glanced at me and sat forward.

“Great.”

He opened the laptop and positioned the screen so everyone could see it. After tapping a few keys, a live feed popped up. I was shocked to see Judy’s smiling face and a striking, black man with long, beaded dreadlocks sitting beside her. He grinned but Judy leaned forward as if staring into a webcam and frowned.

She gasped. “Oh, my God! Miguel! Look at your poor face.”

“Judy, it looks worse than it is,” Miguel said, soothingly.

“I should introduce these two,” Lincoln said. “For those who’ve never met Judy Mendez, Miguel and Raven’s…what’s your title, Judy?”

“Office Administrator for the Trackers Recovery Agency and friend to Miguel and Raven,” she said, sitting straighter.

“Right. Thank you, Judy,” Lincoln said. “And I’d like to introduce Special Agent Noah Burgess.”

The man on the screen waved. “Nice to meet you two. I hope you’re feeling better very soon, Miguel.”

“Thank you,” Miguel replied.

“So, the reason for this meeting and why I asked Judy and Noah to join us is because since last evening, they’ve been working together at our office at the Federal Building,” Lincoln said.

This was news to me. Judy had failed to tell me that she’d been working with the FBI. I knew about the laptop they gave her but nothing else. Personally, I was thrilled that she was involved. She did her best work behind screens. I looked up when there was another knock at the door to the hotel suite.

Lincoln said, “Be right back.” He walked out of the dining room.

I exchanged a look with Miguel who simply shrugged. As far as I knew, Lincoln’s whole team along with Cassidy and Mike were here. When Lincoln returned with Damon Thorne, former CIA operative, I had to honestly admit, I wasn’t surprised in the least. Miguel and I stood and shook hands with the man.

“Sorry I’m late, Lincoln.” He glanced at us. “Nice to see you again.” He smiled and took a seat with everyone else.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

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