Page 99 of Declan's Dove

“Tate. I need you and Hawk to share screens so we can all see the same thing. Can you get that worked out?”

“Hawk, I’m going to need access. Check your email. Click on the link,” Tate says. Sounds of keyboards clicking simultaneously on both sides of the line fill the room. No one bothers to ask how they have each other’s email. I’d bet they’re both sneaking around in the background to see what each other has on their computers. Hawk’s impulsive curiosity won’t allow him to be in there and not look.

“I’m in,” Hawk answers. “You’re live, Tate. Don’t fuck with my shit,” Hawk warns.

“I wouldn’t think of it.” We can hear the smile in his voice. “Hold the line. I need to connect to another source.” Hawk looks at Kayce confused.

“We have another technician he works with. Another system. They split responsibilities when the job is as large as this one,” Kayce explains. “It also allows us to break up the information in case anyone hacks into our system.” He glares at Hawk, accusingly. “Not all information is stored in one system.”

“You divvy it up.” Hawk nods. “That’s smart actually.”

“You seem shocked by my wisdom.”

“Nah. Not shocked, Kayce. Just not sure I believe it was your idea,” Hawk teases.

“It wasn’t,” Tate chimes in. “All right, boss. We’re good to go. Everyone is on the line.”

“All right. Pull up what you have from last night’s reports,” Kayce says, and several pages are displayed on the wall. Basic information about Violet, Carter, and myself. The incident report, the initial social worker request, and Halloway’s notes and cause for concern. I don’t know what the forms are, but seeing the information, I get the jest.

“Carter has been placed in what’s called a transitional foster home. It’s one of several you have in the county. The kids are placed under emergency care, meaning they need a place to stay for twenty-four to seventy-two hours while the CPS worker finds the next of kin or a more permanent foster care facility,” Kayce explains. “This particular home has been flagged by us. It seems this home has an excessively high turnover rate for beds, meaning kids come in and before they can be placed, mysteriously runaway. It’s not the foster parents’ job to search for the kids if they run off. They only have to report it. CPS and the police search for the child once they’re notified.”

“Is it really so shocking that they would have runaways? From what Lilah has told us, foster care is a joke. She was temporarily placed a time or two until her mom sobered up. Sure, there are some good families out there, but a good percentage are in it for the money and not the kids,” Ethan says.

“It’s not uncommon, but we think that’s why this house has gone under the radar,” Kayce starts. “This transition home is run by Lester and Jennifer Connelly. A good, solid couple. Both work from home. It’s a spacious house with room for up to six kids at a time. They’ve been in the foster care transition program for several years. But like we said, they have a higher than usual runaway rate. So, we did some digging.”

The screen on the wall changes and a personal bank account for the couple is displayed. A red highlighter starts marking lines in the deposit column.

March 8 Deposit $10,000

March 15 Deposit $16,000

March 30 Deposit $12,500

The list continues over the next eight months. Deposit amounts vary, but there’s a consistent pattern. A phone log from the CPS headquarters for the county appears after the screen changed.

“Notice anything?” Kayce asks.

“The dates of the deposits are twenty-four hours before the kids are reported missing,” Jake points out. “But who’s paying them? And how do they know the kids are there?”

Tate comes back on the line. His cursor moving over the screen. “There is a members only website. They take a short video of the kid playing or watching tv, whatever, and post it with the kids’ general information and an auction time. The auctions generally run for two hours. The highest bid wins and then transportation or delivery is decided. It doesn’t matter how they get the kid so long as they get them within the first thirty-six hours of them being in the transition home. The kid is then drugged and shipped to their new owner.”

“Fuck,” Ethan groans. “Is that what Spider was going to do with Lilah?”

His daughter was a runaway, living on the streets when a couple of Devils found her. They bought her food and lured her to their van, then drugged her. If they hadn’t kidnapped Skyler the same day, who knows what would’ve happened to both of them.

“Someone in the CPS system has to know what’s going on. They can’t all be heartless assholes,” Hawk snaps.

“No. They’re not. Each transition house we’ve found this to be a pattern in has a case worker who funnels the kids to them. In this case, Daniel McBride is the handler.”

“He’s the asshole who took Carter away at the hospital,” I growl.

“He is. He’s also the one who made the arrangements to send him to the Connelly’s,” Tate says. “It took us a minute to connect him to everything since he doesn’t get paid in cash.”

“What does he get paid with?” Caleb asks skeptically.

Expecting to hear drugs or property, promotions in the workplace. Something that’s commonly used in trade for sick shit like this. Things that are less traceable. I was not prepared for the answer.

The screen changes again and we’re staring at pictures of a naked McBride getting sucked off by a blindfolded, beaten and bruised woman. Ages vary from teenagers to adults. My stomach turns at the scene before me.

---