Scarecrow and Mrs. King
"When the Bough Breaks"
Anne Riener
Author's note: This story is one of the episodes from Scarecrow and Mrs. King: Virtual Season Seven. More episodes can be found here.
A special thanks to Julie R. for the story idea.
"When the Bough Breaks"
Anne Riener
Author's note: This story is one of the episodes from Scarecrow and Mrs. King: Virtual Season Seven. More episodes can be found here.
A special thanks to Julie R. for the story idea.
Prologue
Silver Spring Birthing Center, Silver Spring, Maryland
Friday, January 5, 1990
12:35 AM
She felt like she was having an out-of-body experience. The nausea was overwhelming, the pain unbearable, and everything appeared to be happening in slow motion. Her eyes burned from the bright overhead fluorescent lights; she heard voices and saw distorted faces, but couldn’t make them out. Then she heard a high-pitched siren—no, not a siren, a newborn baby crying. Collapsing onto the bed from exhaustion, she lost consciousness.
Karen Stevens felt someone shaking her awake and she groaned. “Sorry, to wake you, Mrs. Stevens,” she heard the voice say. “But I need to check your vitals.”
Karen opened her eyes, and looked around the room. It took only a few seconds for her to remember where she was and why she was there. She could feel a blood pressure cuff tightened around her arm, and saw a nurse bent over her bed. “Welcome back, Mrs. Stevens. My name is Ms. Wilson. I’ll be your nurse this morning,” she said checking Karen’s pulse. “Do you feel well enough to eat?”
Karen nodded her head. “Yes, I think I would like to eat something.” Sitting up in the hospital bed, she added, “And nurse, when can you bring me my baby? It’s probably time for her to eat, too.”
The nurse looked at her confusion. “Um, sure and I’m going to find your doctor. Let him know you are awake. I’ll be right back.” She quickly left the room.
Several minutes later, Doctor Andersen opened the door and then promptly closed the privacy curtain. “How are you doing this morning, Mrs. Stevens?”
“Okay. I’m just anxious to meet my daughter.” Noticing the look of concern on the doctor’s face, she became frantic, “Is something wrong? Where’s my baby?”
“I’m sorry, but your baby was stillborn.” Dr. Andersen put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
Karen starred at the doctor in disbelief. “No,” she said barely above a whisper. Then she shook her head again. “No. Doctor, you must be mistaken. I know I heard her cry. Stillborn would mean she was not alive when she was born.”
“Mrs. Stevens, you had a very difficult labor and delivery. You were heavily sedated to help you with the delivery. And the drugs you were given can sometimes cause side effects—including hallucinations. You were just imagining things—I’m sorry, but your baby is dead.”
“No, I know I heard my baby cry!” she screamed. “What happened—what happened to my baby?”
“Mrs. Stevens, often times a specific cause isn’t known, but it’s important to remember it was not caused by something you did or didn’t do,” the doctor said sympathetically.
“Why are you lying to me?”
The doctor squeezed her shoulder, trying to comfort her. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said as he left the room.
As the door closed, Mrs. Stevens could be heard shouting hysterically, “Give me back my baby!”
Act One
Q-Bureau
Monday, January 8, 1990
11:00 AM
Amanda sat at her desk, listening to the sound of the rainstorm brewing outside. The wind had just picked up a few moments ago, and now thundered down blowing huge droplets of rain at the windowpanes of the Q-Bureau. She paused for a moment, grateful not to be out in that storm, but sorry for Lee, whom she knew was still out there. She had just gotten back to typing her report for Mr. Melrose, when the telephone rang. She picked up the receiver. “IFF.”
“Amanda?” The voice on the other end said.
“Yes, this is Amanda Stetson. May I ask who is calling?”
“This is Karen Stevens.”
“Oh, my gosh, Karen. I haven’t talked to you since your wedding. How are you?”
“Actually, Amanda, I’m not doing well—I need to ask a favor from you.”
Amanda could hear the worry in Karen’s voice. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t tell you over the phone. Can you meet me for lunch? My treat.”
Amanda bit her lip, and then quickly scanned her appointment book. “How about Dooley’s in an hour?”
“Sounds great. I’ll see you then.”
“Okay, Karen. See you soon. Goodbye.” Amanda placed the receiver back on the cradle.
After finishing her report, Amanda wrote a post-it note for Lee, sticking it on his computer screen. Locking the door to the Q-Bureau, she then walked down the flight of stairs to the Georgetown foyer, and handed her badge to Mrs. Marston, before heading out the door and into the rainstorm.
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Amanda walked into Dooley’s and shook out her umbrella, before closing it up. She searched the restaurant, spotting Karen sitting at a booth near the jukebox. Karen waved her over. Waving back to her friend, she walked over to the booth. Karen stood up and gave Amanda a hug.
“Amanda, you look fantastic,” she said, stepping back. “I didn’t know you were expecting. How far along are you?”
“Thirty-weeks.” Amanda absently rubbed her belly.
Karen nodded before sitting down. “So how is Lee?”
“Good.” Amanda sat down on the opposite bench.
Karen nodded her head again, and then looked down at the table. “Thanks for meeting me. I really didn’t know who else to call.”
Amanda looked at her friend. “We’re Kappa sisters. I’m happy to be here.” She touched her friend’s hand and was surprised to find it as cold as ice. “Karen, what’s this all about?”
Karen picked up the napkin on the table and began to twist it. “I don’t know where to begin?”
Amanda smiled. “My mother always tells me to start at the beginning.”
Karen looked up at Amanda. “Please, don’t think I’m crazy.”
“Why would I think that?”
Karen took a deep breath and blew it out. “Bob and I always wanted a large family, and for years we tried to get pregnant, but it just didn’t happen. We tried fertility clinics, drugs, specialists, but nothing seemed to work. All the stress of trying to get pregnant—well, to be quite honest, all of it put a huge strain on our marriage and it was at a breaking point—so we gave up trying and concentrated on our marriage instead.”
“I’m sorry,” Amanda began to say when the waitress came over to their table to take their order.
“Would Pepperoni be okay?” Karen asked Amanda.
Amanda nodded her head and added. “And I’ll have a Sprite.”
“We’ll have a small Pepperoni pizza and two Sprites,” Karen told the waitress.
“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” the waitress said leaving the table. Karen began to twist the napkin again.
Amanda looked around the room. “Karen, I know there’s something bothering you. What are you not telling me?”
“We had given up ever having a baby of our own, and then about nine months ago, I found out I was pregnant.”
“Oh, Karen, that’s great news!”
Karen’s eyes began to fill with tears. “Do you know what you are having?” she asked.
Amanda shook her head. “No, Lee and I decided we didn’t want to know.”
Karen nodded in reluctant understanding. “Because this was our first child and I’m a slightly older mother, the doctor suggested an amniocentesis. Both Bob and I were thrilled when we found out I was carrying a healthy baby girl.”
Amanda was about to say something, but could see the pain and grief etched on Karen’s face.
“What happened?” Amanda asked slowly.
Karen looked up at the ceiling, trying to blink back her tears. She lowered her head again looking at Amanda, tears streaming down her face. “Last Friday, while Bob was away on a training exercise out at sea, I went into labor. I was two weeks early, but my doctor told me I was fine—that the baby would be fine—that babies are born early all the time. My regular doctor was across town delivering twins—so Dr. Andersen, who was on-call that night delivered my baby.”
The waitress returned with their drinks and after she left Amanda nodded her head, encouraging Karen to continue.
“I’m not exactly sure what happened—I know there were some complications and I was heavily sedated—but I also know what I heard.”
Amanda looked at her friend confused.
“I heard my baby—I know I heard my baby girl cry, but the doctor told me she was stillborn.”
Amanda gasped. “Oh, Karen, I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t believe my baby was stillborn. I know what I heard—what I saw—I saw the nurse take her out of the room—she was pink and healthy—she was not dead. I think she was stolen—the baby they brought to me was so small—maybe five pounds—but at my last appointment, my doctor told me I was carrying at least a seven-pound baby. I also felt no connection to this baby as I held her—I just know it wasn’t her.” Karen openly wept, the tears falling fast, staining her face. “I believe the doctor and nurse are lying to me and took my baby. Amanda, I need your help.”
“What do you think I can do?” Amanda asked taking a sip of her soda.
“I’ve lived in the greater DC area most of my life and I know there are Federal Agents living among us—funny, I never thought you would be one.”
Amanda laughed out loud. “Karen, you always had a vivid imagination.”
“It's okay, Amanda. I was so distraught over the loss of my baby, when I talked to Bob over the phone this weekend; he told me you were one of them.”
Amanda tried to brush her off again. “One of what?”
Karen looked around the restaurant, and then leaning over the table, she whispered, “Amanda, Bob is now a high ranking naval officer aboard a Trident nuclear submarine. He has Delta Green security clearance. He knows all about the Agency and suggested that maybe I could ask you to look into this. I went to the police, but they don’t believe me. They think I’m a delusional mother, looking for answers after losing my baby. I know in my heart that she’s alive. I also know what I saw and heard and I believe she was kidnapped. I’m begging you, please help me.”
Amanda sat there trying to think of a good argument, but knew she didn’t have one.
“What would you do if this happened to you?” Karen asked, watching Amanda rub her belly. “Wouldn’t you want answers too, if this happened to your son or daughter?”
Amanda reluctantly nodded her head, thinking, ‘How am I ever going to explain this to Lee?’
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A Street Corner, Arlington, Virginia
Tuesday, January 9, 1990
2:00 AM
A man and a woman sat under a streetlight in a filthy white cargo van. The woman held a baby in her arms, her body rocking back and forth. “Shhhh,” she whispered, trying to comfort the infant. “It’s okay.” The woman was startled by a sudden loud knock on the van’s window.
The man rolled down the window. “Do you have the agreed upon payment?” he asked.
A well-dressed man nodded, and handed over a briefcase, passing it through the open window.
The man in the van, flipped open the briefcase, and looked at the bills. “Good.” He closed the briefcase, before setting it down on the floorboard.
The woman opened the passenger door handing the well-dressed man the baby and a large manila envelope. “Here’s the baby and her paperwork. Remember no questions—you don’t know us and we don’t know you.”
Taking the baby, he nodded his head, before heading back to his car and his wife—who was anxiously waiting for the child in his arms.
Act Two
4247 Maplewood Drive
Tuesday, January 9, 1990
6:00 AM
Amanda stared at the shadows on the ceiling, in a feeble attempt to fall asleep. She rolled to her side and then over on to her back. Unable to get comfortable, she decided to get up as not to disturb Lee. She sat at the edge of the bed and watched Lee turn over, breathing gentle light breaths that signaled he was still sound asleep. Amanda watched him for a few minutes and couldn’t help but smile. These were days when she felt like she was the luckiest woman on the earth to have such a devoted and loving husband. Then getting out of bed, she put on her bathrobe and went downstairs.
She went into the laundry room and filled the washer with a load of whites. After putting the detergent and bleach into the machine, she started it. Next, she decided to tackle the large pile of ironing on the dryer. She put one of Lee’s shirts on the ironing board and proceeded to iron it. She was halfway through another shirt, when she felt a familiar pair of strong arms enveloped her swollen belly.
“You’re up early.” Lee tenderly moved her hair to the side, and kissed her neck.
“I couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to disturb you.”
He yawned and stretched.
Amanda turned around to face him. “I’m sorry, Dear, I haven’t started any coffee yet this morning. You go upstairs and wake up the boys, get them going, and I’ll get the coffee on.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He gave her a long, slow kiss, before heading upstairs.
Amanda turned on the small kitchen TV to hear the early morning news. Then after starting the coffee, she got the ingredients for breakfast out of the refrigerator. A few minutes later, while standing by the stove, turning over the bacon, she noticed Lee return. Putting the spatula down, she handed him a cup of coffee.
“Thanks, Honey. I can’t tell you how much I needed that coffee right now.”
“Well, you didn’t make it home until after 3:00 this morning. I’m surprised you’re awake, let alone standing.”
Lee put the coffee cup down on the counter. Then drawing her into his arms, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close as her expanding belly would allow. “You’re looking sexy and cute as ever,” he whispered in her ear.
Lee could see Amanda’s cheeks flush and he smiled down at her.
She pushed away from him, sighing, after hearing the boys arguing as they came down the stairs entering the kitchen.
“Wormbrain, what are you doing with my shirt?” Phillip said.
“It’s not your shirt, it’s mine. Hey, give that back.”
Amanda heard a loud thud and she cringed. She gave Lee a knowing look. “Let me go settle that,” he told her turning toward the boys, crossing his arms in front of him.
“Hey! Hey, what’s going on up there?” Neither boy looked at him as they and continued to argue.
“Ohhh, you are going to pay for that,” Phillip snapped.
Lee looked at both boys, then trying to get control of the situation, he whistled, finally getting their attention. “Fellas, what’s going on between you two?”
“Jamie, the four-eyed freak, took my shirt instead of ironing his own.”
“I only took it because you told me I could wear it.”
“I did not.”
“Did too.”
“You just want to wear my clothes, because they’re way cooler than yours just to impress Kristi Patterson, who is totally out of your league.”
“Shut up—you jerk!”
“A jerk’s a tug, a tug’s a boat, a boat’s on water, water’s nature and nature’s beautiful—so thanks for the compliment.” Phillip taunted his younger brother.
Jamie punched his brother in the arm.
“No hitting your brother.” Lee grabbed them both by the arms. “Jamie, I want you to go to the laundry room, and find another shirt. Your mother just finished ironing several of them. Phillip, finish getting ready for school.”
Both boys followed Lee’s instructions. Dotty entered skirting around the boys, carrying several large books.
“Glad you were able to stop World War III back there,” she said to Lee, patting him on the cheek. After putting down her books down, she threw up her arms. “Boys!” Touching Amanda’s abdomen, she continued, “Let’s hope this one’s a girl. Although, you were a very precocious child yourself.”
“Moth-er.” Amanda rolled her eyes and shook her head. Then she noticed all the books her mother had placed on the counter. “What have you got there?”
“The contractor stopped by last night with these wallpaper sample books and this color wheel thingy with paint chips--I just don’t know how I’m ever going to make all these choices.” Dotty sat down on the bar stool and flipped open the first book. “Oh, Amanda, what do you think of this for the bathroom?”
Amanda scraped some eggs onto the plates she had placed on the counter. Then looking over her mother’s shoulder she looked at the book. “That’s very nice, but I like this floral pattern, too, Mother.” She placed two slices of bacon, buttered toast on each plate, and handed them over to Lee to carry over to the breakfast table.
“So, do I,” Dotty said continuing to flip through the pages.
“How was lunch with your friend Karen?” Lee asked Amanda.
“Karen?” Dotty questioned raising her head. “Wasn’t she one of your sorority sisters? Other than an occasional card or letter—I didn’t think you had kept in touch.”
“Yes, Mother, I’ve lost touch with Karen over the years, but she called me yesterday for an impromptu lunch. So we made up for lost time,” Amanda said before pausing for a moment. “Mother, could you make sure the boys eat their breakfast. I need to talk to Lee for a moment in the family room.”
“Sure, Darling,” she said, then hollered, “Phillip, Jamie, your breakfast is ready.”
The boys thundered down the stairs. “Thanks Grandma,” they both answered.
Amanda grabbed Lee’s arm, leading him towards the family room. After helping her sit down on the sofa, he sat down next to her. “I didn’t want Mother to overhear our conversation.”
“So, I gathered.”
“I’m concerned about Karen.” Amanda looked around, verifying no one was eavesdropping. “She had a baby last Friday and was told she was stillborn, but she honestly believes her baby is not dead and the doctor is lying to her. Now, I did a little investigating—”
“A-man-da.”
“Nothing dangerous, just research.” She gave him a pleading look, begging him to understand. “Karen is convinced that her baby was kidnapped.”
“Amanda, this is not Agency business.”
“No, Lee, I disagree. I think Karen may have stumbled onto something. I feel sorry for her and I want to give her some comfort during this difficult time. All I want to do is talk to some other mothers and see if their stories are similar to Karen’s.”
Lee could tell Amanda was not going to take no for an answer so he reluctantly agreed. “Okay, I’ll let you continue investigating this, but only today. Meet me at the office later this afternoon and let me know what you’ve found out and if it’s worth investigating further—we’ll let Billy know.”
Amanda threw her arms around Lee, kissing him on the cheek. “Thanks, Sweetheart.” Then glancing down, she added, “I better go upstairs and get myself ready for work. Can you make sure the boys leave for school on time?”
“I’ll handle it.” He said, helping her off the sofa. “Now go on.”
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4:00 PM
Amanda walked into the Q-Bureau exhausted. Her hand was on her back as she padded over to the sofa. Lee stood up from his desk and helped her get down, before he sat down next to her. She kicked off her shoes and wiggled her toes.
“Long day?” He put his arm around her shoulder.
She snuggled close to him, leaning into his embrace, nodding her head. “I started out at the clinic where Karen gave birth. The staff admires Dr. Andersen; he’s well liked and respected. Attended medical school at the University of Maryland, residency at Parker General Hospital, works at three clinics in the greater DC Metro area—two are low-income clinics.”
“A real pillar of society.”
Amanda nodded. “I also found out his nurse, Susanne Wilson, does volunteer work at an adoption agency.”
“Amanda, I’m sorry for your friend’s loss, but there appears to be nothing to go on.”
“That’s what I was beginning to think also, until I looked into county birth records and I contacted three mothers, whose babies were listed as being stillborn. And in each one of those cases the mothers remember hearing their babies crying or seeing them move as they were taken out of the room—when they asked to see the baby or hold the baby. They were told the baby had already been taken to the morgue for an autopsy and then would be cremated, so they never saw them. My instincts are telling me that these babies were not dead—but taken from their mothers—who were often low-income, single mothers and then these babies are sold on the black market.”
“Not that I don’t trust your instincts—”
Amanda shot him a ‘don’t go there buster’ look.
He continued, “Karen wouldn't fit in with those other women.”
“I know. That’s what’s strange.”
Lee nodded. “Okay, let’s see Billy, tell him what you found and see what he says.” Lee took his wife’s hand; helping her up. His hand rested at the small of her back, steadying her while she walked down the stairs and toward the closet elevator.
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“This is good work, Amanda,” Billy told her as the three of them sat in his office. “What would you like to do from here?”
“I think I’d like to investigate this a little further; maybe from the inside. I could pose as a patient,” Amanda said to Billy and then looked toward Lee. She knew he wasn’t going to be happy about this.
Billy nodded his head. “That sounds fine. I’ll give you the go ahead. First, I think you should go to fabrication and have them set you up a new identity and some false medical files.”
“Now, wait a minute, Billy—” Lee started to say.
Billy held up his hand, stopping him. “Lee, I know what you are going to say. I’m more than aware of the risks to Amanda and your unborn child—but her being pregnant makes her the perfect agent for this case.” He turned to Amanda, “but if things get too hot—I want you out immediately.”
“Yes, Sir," Amanda agreed.
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Community Health Center, Alexandria, Virginia
4:00 PM
Dr. Andersen walked into the Community Health Clinic and went straight over to the reception desk.
“Good morning, Dr. Andersen,” a short, stout, older woman with greying hair said to him. “Here are your messages.” She handed him several pink slips of paper.
“Thank you, Janet,” he said politely smiling at her.
Her face flushed and she smiled back him.
The handsome young doctor knew he had that effect on woman and used it to his advantage. He looked over the messages as he turned to head toward his office.
Gaining her composure, Janet cleared her throat. “Oh, I almost forgot, a lady, possibly a new patient came by earlier today asking questions about the clinic, and you, and Nurse Wilson.”
“Okay, thanks. Did she leave a name?”
“No.” She shook her head. “She was tall, brunette, late thirties, I assumed she was looking for an ob—I recommended you highly.”
“You’re a peach, Janet.”
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Q-Bureau
5:30 PM
“I brought you something to eat.” Lee set a box down on her desk along with a bottle of fruit juice.
“Thank you, Sweetheart.” Amanda took the styrofoam box from him and opened it finding a pasta salad.
“How are you doing”? He sat down on the edge of her desk.
“I’m doing okay—just going over the scenario for this case.” Amanda noticed Lee look down at the floor, before he put his hand on the back of his neck.
“What’s wrong?” She already knew the answer to her question, but he needed to voice his misgivings about her accepting this assignment.
“I’m worried about you taking this case. Not only could you be endangering your life, but our baby as well.”
“Lee, I’m the best person for this case. Like Billy told you, being pregnant makes me the best agent for this assignment.”
“A-man-da,” he began. Then standing up, he paced the office. He stopped, rocking back on his heels. “Okay,” he grumbled. “But it’s not going to stop me from worrying about you. I don’t want anything to happen to you or the baby.”
Amanda stood up and walked over to him. She straightened his tie and then kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for worrying about me, but I can look after myself and it’s a good cover. Please let me solve this case. This means more to me than you can imagine especially with me being pregnant, and hopefully, I can find some information on who is taking these babies and bring closure to these women who have lost their children. You would want the same, wouldn’t you?
Lee nodded his head. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” Amanda repeated, wrapping her arms around his neck and drawing him close.
“Promise me you you’ll be careful and that you’ll call for backup immediately, if needed.”
“Agreed,” Amanda said pushing back. “Do you remember the time we were in the Betsy Ross Estates house and we shook hands after I solved the case about the weapons being shipped to Central America?”
Lee smiled at the memory. “Yes, and you put cheery blue curtains and a rug in the kitchen and made me make strawberry daiquiris.”
“I never made you do anything; and it’s not like it took much persuading at all,” she teased. She watched Lee compose himself. Amanda knew exactly how to calm him down, and make him agree to something he may have disagreed with.
Lee raised an eyebrow and then laughed. “As always, you’re right, although you better finish eating. You’re making me feel apprehensive when I think that the baby might be hungry.”
Amanda released him and walked back to her desk. Sitting down, she went back to eating her dinner. Lee stood behind her, holding up the file folder for both of them to read. “Now, let’s go over this scenario together,” Lee suggested.
Act Three
Wednesday, January 10, 1990
4:30 AM
Suzanne Wilson sat in the front passenger seat of the cargo van. Her knees pulled up to her chest. She turned to her companion. “Why did you have to kill her, Martin? No one would have believed her. She was delirious and delusional.”
“And she was investigating us and the clinics. No, Mrs. Stevens needed to be stopped.”
“Martin, I’m a nurse. I save lives. I don’t take them.”
“Tough, because now you’re an accessory to murder. This is all your fault, Suzanne—if you had removed the baby more quickly; she wouldn’t have heard the baby cry. We can’t run the risk of someone believing her story and coming to investigate us.”
“I want out Martin—you hear me—out! I was only in this for the money. I just sell the babies. I don’t commit murder.”
“Shut up, Suzanne!” he snapped. “You liked the money those unfortunate souls were giving us. So deal with it! It’s better for these children anyway—most of these mothers can’t take care of themselves let alone a child—these babies have a chance to grow up in affluent neighborhoods, attend the best schools, have normal lives—not live in poverty.”
“But Mrs. Stevens wasn’t one of those women.”
“Yes, it was unfortunate that Mrs. Stevens, delivered a healthy baby girl that night—we had a buyer anxious for a daughter—it was too easy—her husband out to sea—she was so out of it—there had already been a stillbirth that evening—if only you had been quicker.” His face turned beet red.
“Please let me go—I just want out—I promise I won’t tell anyone about you or what we did.”
The young good-looking doctor, turned to face her stroking her cheek, and then he pointed to the body lying in the back of the van. “I advise you to reconsider your decision, Suzanne or you’ll be next.” The look her gave her, made her blood freeze. Slowly she nodded her head.
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Beltway Medical Clinic, Washington DC
9:15 AM
Dr. Andersen opened the door to his office, ushering Amanda inside. “Mrs. Keene, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Dr. Martin Andersen. I understand you recently moved back to the area and are looking for an ob-gyn.” He extended his hand in greeting.
She returned his handshake, started for a moment by his looks—no wonder woman trusted him. “Yes.”
Dr. Andersen walked behind his desk and sat down. He opened the folder, reviewing her records. “You don’t have a name listed for the father.”
“Is that a problem?”
He put the folder down and leaned forward. “No, not really, but we’ll need his name for the birth certificate.”
Amanda nodded her head looking down at the floor ashamed. “Please don’t judge me—you see, I’m an unwed mother, who was in a relationship with a man who bailed when I told him I was pregnant. I have two teenage sons from a previous marriage and wonder what sort of example I am setting for them—I tell them to wait for marriage—” she broke off trying not to cry.
Dr. Andersen handed Amanda a tissue. “There’s no reason to feel ashamed. We all make mistakes, Amanda—may I call you Amanda?”
Amanda sniffled. Dabbing her eyes, she nodded her head again. “I’ve had to move in with my mother just to make ends meet.”
The doctor nodded his head in sympathy. “I’m not here to judge. I just want to make sure the remainder of your pregnancy continues to go well and that you deliver a healthy baby.” He paused for a moment before asking. “May, I ask you a personal question?”
Amanda nodded wringing the tissue in her hand.
“Have you considered what might be best for your child—maybe giving the baby up for adoption?” He smiled at her.
His smile did not appear genuine and Amanda suddenly felt very uncomfortable. “Thank you, Dr. Andersen,” she managed to croak out. "I have my mother and she has agreed to help me raise this child.”
Dr. Andersen smiled again and with a quick nod of his head, he continued to read her chart. “Do you know if your baby is a boy or a girl?”
“No,” Amanda admitted.
“I see your previous doctor didn’t recommend an ultrasound or amniocentesis—quite frankly I’m surprised.”
“Why?”
“We like to see our older mothers have additional testing—just to make sure everything’s all right. It’s something you might want to consider.”
“No, Doctor,” she stated simply. “I’m aware of the risks associated with amniocentesis—including premature birth. I rather not have one.”
“Fair enough.” He closed the folder. “If you would like me to be your doctor—I have a cancellation this morning and can examine you now.”
A loud beeping sound filled the room. Dr. Andersen pulled his pager from his belt loop and looked at the display screen. “Just a moment, I need to take this. I can have a nurse come down and take you to one of our exam rooms.”
“Okay.”
“Good.” He headed toward the door. “I’ll have a nurse escort you in a few minutes to another room.”
Watching the door close behind the doctor, Amanda stood up and quickly rifled through his desk drawers and file cabinets. She pulled out a file labeled birth certificates and laid the file down on the desk. Then taking out a small surveillance camera from her purse, she snapped pictures of them. Hearing the doorknob turn, she hurriedly returned the folder to the file cabinet.
“Mrs. Keene?” The nurse hesitated for a moment seeing Amanda standing near the doctor’s desk.
“Yes,” Amanda replied. "I'm sorry, I was looking for a trash can."
"Right there," the nurse said pointing to a small waste paper basket next to the desk. "I’m here to take you down to the exam room. Are you ready?”
“Sort of—can we stop at the restroom on the way?”
The nurse relaxed and smiled. “No problem. We’ll need a sample anyway,” she said handing Amanda a small plastic cup.
“Of course.”
Amanda was sitting on the exam table when the doctor returned. “Your vitals and weight look good,” he said before laying her down on the table. He checked her ankles and feet. “You have some mild swelling in your ankles—try to stay off your feet as much as possible,” he suggested. Then after hearing the baby’s heart rate, he measured her uterus. “Hmmm?”
“What?” Amanda allowed him to help her sit up.
“According to your records you’re 30 weeks along—but you’re measuring only 28 weeks. I’m concerned about that. I know you’re set against an amniocentesis, but I would feel better if you had one. I could schedule one for you here at this clinic.”
Amanda bit her lip, before answering, “If you think its best, Doctor. But if you wouldn’t mind there’s a lab just a couple of blocks from my new job—I rather do it there. Maybe on my lunch break, so I don’t miss any more work.” Amanda watched the young doctor’s face change. Her instincts told her this man was up to something.
Dr. Andersen nodded his head. “Yes, of course. Just have the lab fax me a copy of the results and I would like to see you again next week, Amanda. Make an appointment at the front desk and it was good meeting you.” He squeezed her shoulder as he helped her stand up.
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Q-Bureau
12:00 PM
Amanda sat at her desk, scrutinizing the pictures Leatherneck had enlarged for her. “Lee, take a look at these.”
Lee walked over to her desk and stood behind her looking over her shoulder. “What am I looking at?”
“They’re birth certificates. I cross-referenced them with the death certificates I obtained at county records. Notice they all have matching dates, the sex of the babies all match and they all name the same doctor—Dr. Martin Andersen.”
“That’s good work.”
“I also did some research on stillbirth—did you know the average number of pregnancies that end in stillbirth is two percent? However, according to county records listing Dr. Andersen as the attending physician, the number is slightly higher. He works at three clinics, Silver Spring Birthing Center, Beltway Medical Center, and Community Health Clinic. Now, two of those clinics cater to low income woman, where the percentages could be slightly higher because of the mother’s medical history, poor nutrition, not seeing a doctor early in her pregnancy, ethnic factors, and so on.”
“What about the clinics themselves?”
“The clinics appear to be clean—no irregularities.”
“Going to be hard to nail this doctor.” He blew out his breath. “Anything else you can add.”
“No, nothing concrete. I don’t know—I just don’t trust him.”
“We can’t arrest him because you don’t trust him.”
“I know that!” she snapped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just tired, I guess.”
Lee rubbed her shoulders.
“Mmmm, that feels good.” She rolled her shoulders. “It’s the way he kept insisting I have an amniocentesis—wanting to know the sex of the baby and then lying about how far along I am. Dr. Adams has me at 30 weeks and tells me everything looks good.”
“Do you want to continue to investigate from this angle?” He asked sitting on the edge of her desk.
Amanda nodded her head. “Yes. Fabrication is making up my lab results as we speak—it will show I’m having a healthy baby boy.”
Lee grinned and Amanda couldn’t help but notice.
“Is that what you want?”
“Amanda, I don’t care. All I want is a healthy baby.” He paused for a moment. “What about you?”
“Me too.”
“Ah-ha.” He pointed at her. “I know you aren’t telling me the truth.”
She looked up at him. “No, I really want a healthy baby, boy or girl. I’ll admit part of me hopes it’s a girl, since I already have two boys. But I know about raising boys and would feel comfortable with another boy.”
Lee shrugged. “Yes, a boy would be nice—but I already have two stepsons to do things with—I would love a daughter who’s as beautiful as her mother and has a nose for trouble.”
“Trouble? I’ll show you trouble, Buster.” She lightly slugged his arm. He grabbed her hand bringing it to his mouth; he kissed her knuckles.
“You’re not—you know sorry we don’t know?”
Lee shook his head. “No, sometimes secrets can be good.” He bent over kissing her deeply on the lips. When he pulled away, he cleared his throat. “Now, back to the case at hand. We’re going to have to catch the good doctor in the act of selling babies.”
“Maybe, the Loving Hands Adoption Agency where Suzanne Wilson works—is the avenue we should take.”
“True, but no one would believe we’re looking to adopt a baby.” He looked at her very rounded belly.
“Yes,” she admitted. “We need to send in someone who can pose as a married couple looking to adopt.”
They both smiled at the same time.
“Are you thinking, what I’m thinking?”
“Of course, great minds think alike, Stetson.”
Lee gave Amanda a lopsided grin. “After all I hear they’re darling together.”
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Loving Hands Adoption Agency, Georgetown
Friday, January 12, 1990
10:00 AM
Hand in hand Francine and Beaman entered the Loving Hands Adoption Agency and walked over to the reception desk.
“Good morning. How may I help you?” the young perky receptionist asked.
“We’re Mr. and Mrs. Beckman. We have an appointment this morning with Mr. Monson.” Beaman squeezed Francine’s hand and she smiled back at him.
“Oh, yes, the Beckman’s. Welcome to Loving Hands Adoption Agency—where we bring families together. We’re so happy you’re here.”
“Thank you,” Francine answered.
“Please take a seat, I’ll inform Mr. Monson you’re here and while you’re waiting would you mind filling out this little questionnaire for us?”
Beaman took the clipboard from the receptionist and handed it to Francine. “Puddin’ Pie, do you mind?”
“No, I’d be happy to sweet cheeks.” Mentally gagging, she gave him a fake smile.
The receptionist went down the hall and Francine quickly let go of Beaman’s hand. “Puddin’ Pie? I’ll get you back for that.” Then looking at the clipboard, she groaned. “A little questionnaire—they’ve got to be kidding—it’s twelve pages long.”
Beaman smiled at her, handing her a pen. “Then I guess you better get writing.”
Several minutes later, the receptionist came back down the hall. “Mr. and Mrs. Beckman, Mr. Monson will see you now. Right this way.”
They entered the office and Mr. Monson who was standing behind his desk, extended his hand, shaking both of their hands. “Mr. and Mrs. Beckman, so nice to meet you. Oh good, I see you have filled out our questionnaire. If I may?”
Francine handed the clipboard to Mr. Monson.
“Please, sit down.” He offered them the chairs in front of his desk. Francine and Beaman sat down. Beaman took Francine’s hand again. Mr. Monson turned his chair around facing the wall, while he looked at their file. He turned his chair back around, facing them. He laid down the file and smiled. “How long have you been married?”
Beaman lifted Francine hand, kissing it. “Five wonderful years.”
There was a knock on the door. “Enter.”
Nurse Wilson entered the room. “Suzanne, this is Efraim and Francine Beckman.”
“Pleased to meet you. No, don’t get up,” she said shaking their hands.
“Suzanne matches parents with the children. I asked her to join us.”
“Yes, of course,” Beaman said.
“Why do you want to adopt?” Mr. Monson asked them.
“We love children. Don’t we, Gumdrop?” Francine answered enthusiastically.
“Yes, Princess.” Beaman answered back.
“And when we found out Efraim was infertile—” She noticed Beaman raise his eyebrow, but she continued, “we were just devastated. We still want to house full of children and we thought adoption was the most logical course.”
Mr. Monson nodded his head. “I see you are looking for an infant. I hate to discourage parents—but adopting an infant means years of waiting—we have some lovely older children who are looking for good homes—would you consider an older child?”
“Maybe someday, but both the missus and I have our heart set on a baby.”
“I understand. I would be happy to place you on the waiting list, if everything checks out.”
“Checks out?” Francine asked.
“Well, yes, we do an intensive background check, several home checks--we want to make sure it's a perfect fit--for the parents as well as the child. There will be lots of paperwork to fill out. Adoption is not an easy process and is very expensive.”
Francine looked over at Beaman and she nodded her head. “We’re willing to pay anything, to put us at the head of the list.”
“Sorry, we here at Loving Hands, do not operate that way. Maybe you would be better off adopting through a private party,” Mr. Monson told them.
“Thanks for your time.” Francine quickly ushered Beaman out the door.
“I’ll show you out,” Suzanne offered.
They walked out down the hall and out the door. “Did you really mean you’ll pay anything?” she asked them.
“That’s right. Like my husband said, we’ll pay anything.”
“It won’t come cheap—but I think I can help you. Do you have a preference on the sex?”
They both shook their heads no.
She gave them a business card. “Call me at this number and I'll see what I can do for you." Francine and Beaman looked at each other and then watched Suzanne as she walked back into the building.
Act Four
Community Health Center
11:30 AM
“Morning, Janet. How’s my favorite receptionist?” Dr. Andersen asked handing her a single red rose.
Janet’s cheeks flushed. “Dr. Andersen, you shouldn’t have?”
He smiled down at her. “Any messages?”
“No, Doctor. But I wanted to know did that pregnant woman call you?”
“Pregnant woman? What pregnant woman?”
“The one I told you about—she came by asking all those questions—I recommended you.”
Dr. Andersen face turned ashen.
“Doctor, are you alright?”
“Yes, fine. Describe this woman again.”
“Sure, she was in her thirties, medium-length brunette hair, tall—”
“And you said she was pregnant—how far along would you say she was?”
“Oh, I would guess she was in her third trimester.”
‘Damn,’ he thought. “Thanks, I’ll be in my office,” he said winking at her. Then he quickly walked down the corridor.
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4247 Maplewood Drive
11:45 AM
Dotty had just finished putting a chicken in the oven, when she heard the doorbell. She walked over the front door opening it. “Yes?”
“Mrs. West?” The man asked extending his hand, he held out a business card. “Good morning. My name is David O’Neil from American Painting Company—I’m here for an estimate on painting your apartment.”
“Oh, yes of course.” She took his card and opened the door further. “Won’t you come in?”
Mr. O’Neil walked down the foyer steps.
“I’m sorry for the mess as you can tell we’re remodeling and slightly behind schedule. Let me grab my coat and I’ll show you the apartment. It’s not much to look at yet—the framers only finished last week.”
He nodded his head. Dotty returned with her coat on and the painter opened the door for her, when the phone rang. “When it rains, it pours,” Dotty lamented. “I’ll be just a minute.” She picked up the telephone in the kitchen. “Hello.”
“Hello. This is Nurse Wilson. May I please speak to Amanda?”
“I’m sorry, she’s not here. Is there a message you wish to leave?”
“Is this Amanda’s mother?”
“Yes, I’m Amanda’s mother.”
“Good. This is Dr. Andersen’s office and we have a mix-up on some test results she had—and would like her to come back to the office as soon as possible.”
Dotty was confused. “Yes, I’ll be sure to tell her Dr. Adams office called.”
“Dr. Adams?” the nurse asked.
“Dr. Adams—Amanda’s ob.”
“Yes, of course, you are correct. I must have the name of the wrong doctor on this sticky note. I’m sure it’s correct on the chart. Well, goodbye and thanks for your time.”
“Okay. Bye.” Dotty hung up the phone. Then zipping up her coat, she headed out the door with the painter.
Community Health Center
After putting the receiver back in the cradle, Suzanne looked at the doctor. “We’ve got a big problem.”
Dr. Andersen forcefully pounded his fist on his desk out of frustration.
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Q-Bureau
The phone rang inside the Q-Bureau.
“IFF. Film Library,” Amanda answered.
“Hello, Amanda. This is Nurse Wilson. It would appear there was a mix-up at the lab and there was a problem with your urinalysis—they found some protein in the sample, and we want to make sure it wasn’t yours. Could you come by the office in Alexandria for another test?”
Amanda looked at her watch. “Sure, it’s almost time for my lunch break—I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Okay. See you soon.”
Billy’s Office
Lee, Billy, Francine and Beaman sat in the conference chairs in the section chief’s office.
“Well, there’s no doubt this nurse is involved in the illegal selling of babies,” Francine said debriefing the other agents.
“She said it’s won’t be cheap, but I feel the more we are willing to pay the further up the list we can get,” Beaman added.
“I agree. What about the business card she gave you?” Billy asked.
“Not much to go on—the number is for a service—most likely under an assumed name,” Francine told them.
“I have no doubt the doctor is as crooked as the nurse—and just as involved—if not more so. Hopefully, we can sent up a drop and catch them both,” Lee said.
“Okay, I’ll give you authorization to continue pursuing this, but I want Amanda off this case. Find out how much they want and we’ll go from there. Good work,” he said congratulating them.
Everyone stood up to leave, when there was a knock on the door.
“Come in.” Billy waved to the woman standing at the door to come into his office. “Thanks Barbara,” he said taking the folder from her and then opening it up he began to read. “Scarecrow,” he barked.
Lee stopped in the doorway, turning around to face Billy.
“Where’s Amanda?”
“She’s upstairs in the Q. Why?”
“It would appear late last night Metro found a body of a woman. She has been ID’ed as Amanda’s friend Karen Stevens.”
Lee swallowed hard, his jaw clenched. “The cause of death?”
“Preliminary autopsy reports say she was murdered—most likely poisoned.”
“Damn!” Lee swore grabbing the phone from Billy’s desk. After several rings, he quickly hung up calling another extension. “Mrs. Marston, Scarecrow. Is Amanda still in the building?”
“No, Scarecrow. She left a few minutes ago, but she left you a message saying she was heading to Dr. Andersen’s office in Alexandria.” Lee slammed the phone down rushing out the Bullpen doors. “Community Health Center,” he hollered.
“We’re right behind you,” Billy yelled after him, grabbing his revolver from his desk drawer.
Community Health Center
Amanda sat in the waiting room of the health center thumbing through an old magazine.
“Amanda Keene,” a nurse called out. Amanda stood up and walked with Suzanne through the door and down the hallway. “Thanks for coming. We’ll need another urine sample, but Dr. Andersen wanted to talk with you first.”
Nurse Wilson opened the door to the doctor’s office, allowing Amanda to step through the doorway first. “He’ll be right with you,” she told Amanda closing the door.
“Thanks, Suzanne.” Amanda sat down in a chair in front of the doctor’s desk.
A couple of minutes later, Dr. Andersen came into his office, carrying a chart. Suzanne was right behind him. “Mrs. Keene,” he began to say, walking behind her, he laid his hands on her shoulders and then produced a needle. “If that’s really your name?”
Amanda stomach clenched in fear. “I don’t know what you are talking about?”
“Oh, I think you do,” he said squeezing the syringe, a small amount of liquid shot out of it.
“No, Martin,” Suzanne pleaded. “No more!”
“Shut up, Suzanne!” he growled.
Amanda’s head snapped back. “More?”
“He murdered that nice Mrs. Stevens,” Suzanne told her.
“Karen,” Amanda whispered, trying to break free from the doctor’s grasp.
“So you knew Mrs. Stevens, did you? What are you FBI, CIA? Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter.” He put the needle to her forearm.
“What is that?” Amanda gasped.
“It’s the same thing that killed your friend Mrs. Stevens.”
“I’ll scream.” Her voice was sharp.
“Go ahead, this is a birthing center, woman scream all the time,” he said smugly.
“I won’t be a party to it again. I’m not a murderer!” Suzanne yelled, trying to grab the syringe from the doctor’s hand. Dr. Andersen raised his hand slapping her. She fell to the floor.
At that moment, Lee burst into the room with Billy and Francine right behind him. “Drop it now or you’re dead!”
The syringe fell to the floor and Dr. Andersen held up his hands, defeated. Lee cuffed him, and then threw him toward Francine. “Get him out of here, before I hurt him.” He went to Amanda and pulling her out of the chair, he hugged her tightly. “Thank God!” was all he could say.
Tag
4247 Maplewood Drive
Sunday, January 14, 1990
9:00 AM
Lee came down the stairs and entered the family room. He saw his wife sitting on the sofa holding a sleeping baby in her arms. He thought to himself what a beautiful sight that was and how much more right it would look when she was holding their baby. She looked up at him and smiled. He swallowed the lump that was in his throat and padded over to her giving her a quick peck on her lips. Earlier that morning, she had let him feed her and showed him how to change a diaper. He thought he handled it well—no big thing in raising babies—it would be a piece of cake once their own child arrived.
The doorbell rang and the baby stirred. Amanda gently rocked the baby, trying to lull her back asleep. Lee walked over to the foyer, opening the front door. A man in an officer’s dress uniform stood on the other side. “Commander Stevens?” Lee asked extending his hand.
The man returned his handshake. “Please, it’s Bob.”
“Lee Stetson,” he answered back, releasing his grip. “Your daughter is in the family room,” he told him leading him to where Amanda and the baby were.
“Please, don’t stand up. Amanda, it’s good to see you again, and I can’t thank you—both of you for everything you have done for Caitlyn and I.”
Lee took the baby from Amanda, handing her over to her father.
“I’m sorry about Karen. She was a good friend,” Amanda said.
Bob Stevens nodded his head, but was too busy looking into his daughter’s eyes to really listen. “Karen’s service will be Wednesday at the Community Church.”
“We’ll be there,” Amanda answered for both of them.
“Thanks for believing her and bringing my daughter back to me,” he said, his voice full of emotion. “Well, I won’t take up any more of your Sunday morning.”
Amanda held up her hand, Lee helped her off the sofa, and they both followed Bob to the front door. Lee put his arm around her as they stood in the doorway, his other hand resting on her swollen belly. They watched Bob put his daughter into her carseat, before heading around to the other side of the car. He waved to them once more before driving away.
Lee turned his head to look at Amanda. “That feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, although, I’m sorry we couldn’t have done more to save Karen.”
“I’m sorry about her death, too.” Closing the door behind them, Lee led her into the kitchen. “But we did stop that doctor and nurse from kidnapping babies and illegally selling them. We have turned the case over to the FBI and hopefully they can match the records and return babies to their rightful parents—just like Karen’s baby. She’s the real hero in all this.”
Amanda sadly agreed. She then kissed him on the cheek.
“What’s that for?”
“For you—being you, and for letting me solve this case. It meant a lot to me—more than you know.”
“No, Mrs. Stetson, I do know.” He rested his hand on her belly again. The baby kicked and he flashed his wife a dimpled grin.
“Only nine more weeks—are you ready, Mr. Stetson?”
“With you by my side, I’m ready for anything,” he said touching his lips softly to hers.
The End
Silver Spring Birthing Center, Silver Spring, Maryland
Friday, January 5, 1990
12:35 AM
She felt like she was having an out-of-body experience. The nausea was overwhelming, the pain unbearable, and everything appeared to be happening in slow motion. Her eyes burned from the bright overhead fluorescent lights; she heard voices and saw distorted faces, but couldn’t make them out. Then she heard a high-pitched siren—no, not a siren, a newborn baby crying. Collapsing onto the bed from exhaustion, she lost consciousness.
Karen Stevens felt someone shaking her awake and she groaned. “Sorry, to wake you, Mrs. Stevens,” she heard the voice say. “But I need to check your vitals.”
Karen opened her eyes, and looked around the room. It took only a few seconds for her to remember where she was and why she was there. She could feel a blood pressure cuff tightened around her arm, and saw a nurse bent over her bed. “Welcome back, Mrs. Stevens. My name is Ms. Wilson. I’ll be your nurse this morning,” she said checking Karen’s pulse. “Do you feel well enough to eat?”
Karen nodded her head. “Yes, I think I would like to eat something.” Sitting up in the hospital bed, she added, “And nurse, when can you bring me my baby? It’s probably time for her to eat, too.”
The nurse looked at her confusion. “Um, sure and I’m going to find your doctor. Let him know you are awake. I’ll be right back.” She quickly left the room.
Several minutes later, Doctor Andersen opened the door and then promptly closed the privacy curtain. “How are you doing this morning, Mrs. Stevens?”
“Okay. I’m just anxious to meet my daughter.” Noticing the look of concern on the doctor’s face, she became frantic, “Is something wrong? Where’s my baby?”
“I’m sorry, but your baby was stillborn.” Dr. Andersen put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
Karen starred at the doctor in disbelief. “No,” she said barely above a whisper. Then she shook her head again. “No. Doctor, you must be mistaken. I know I heard her cry. Stillborn would mean she was not alive when she was born.”
“Mrs. Stevens, you had a very difficult labor and delivery. You were heavily sedated to help you with the delivery. And the drugs you were given can sometimes cause side effects—including hallucinations. You were just imagining things—I’m sorry, but your baby is dead.”
“No, I know I heard my baby cry!” she screamed. “What happened—what happened to my baby?”
“Mrs. Stevens, often times a specific cause isn’t known, but it’s important to remember it was not caused by something you did or didn’t do,” the doctor said sympathetically.
“Why are you lying to me?”
The doctor squeezed her shoulder, trying to comfort her. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said as he left the room.
As the door closed, Mrs. Stevens could be heard shouting hysterically, “Give me back my baby!”
Act One
Q-Bureau
Monday, January 8, 1990
11:00 AM
Amanda sat at her desk, listening to the sound of the rainstorm brewing outside. The wind had just picked up a few moments ago, and now thundered down blowing huge droplets of rain at the windowpanes of the Q-Bureau. She paused for a moment, grateful not to be out in that storm, but sorry for Lee, whom she knew was still out there. She had just gotten back to typing her report for Mr. Melrose, when the telephone rang. She picked up the receiver. “IFF.”
“Amanda?” The voice on the other end said.
“Yes, this is Amanda Stetson. May I ask who is calling?”
“This is Karen Stevens.”
“Oh, my gosh, Karen. I haven’t talked to you since your wedding. How are you?”
“Actually, Amanda, I’m not doing well—I need to ask a favor from you.”
Amanda could hear the worry in Karen’s voice. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t tell you over the phone. Can you meet me for lunch? My treat.”
Amanda bit her lip, and then quickly scanned her appointment book. “How about Dooley’s in an hour?”
“Sounds great. I’ll see you then.”
“Okay, Karen. See you soon. Goodbye.” Amanda placed the receiver back on the cradle.
After finishing her report, Amanda wrote a post-it note for Lee, sticking it on his computer screen. Locking the door to the Q-Bureau, she then walked down the flight of stairs to the Georgetown foyer, and handed her badge to Mrs. Marston, before heading out the door and into the rainstorm.
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Amanda walked into Dooley’s and shook out her umbrella, before closing it up. She searched the restaurant, spotting Karen sitting at a booth near the jukebox. Karen waved her over. Waving back to her friend, she walked over to the booth. Karen stood up and gave Amanda a hug.
“Amanda, you look fantastic,” she said, stepping back. “I didn’t know you were expecting. How far along are you?”
“Thirty-weeks.” Amanda absently rubbed her belly.
Karen nodded before sitting down. “So how is Lee?”
“Good.” Amanda sat down on the opposite bench.
Karen nodded her head again, and then looked down at the table. “Thanks for meeting me. I really didn’t know who else to call.”
Amanda looked at her friend. “We’re Kappa sisters. I’m happy to be here.” She touched her friend’s hand and was surprised to find it as cold as ice. “Karen, what’s this all about?”
Karen picked up the napkin on the table and began to twist it. “I don’t know where to begin?”
Amanda smiled. “My mother always tells me to start at the beginning.”
Karen looked up at Amanda. “Please, don’t think I’m crazy.”
“Why would I think that?”
Karen took a deep breath and blew it out. “Bob and I always wanted a large family, and for years we tried to get pregnant, but it just didn’t happen. We tried fertility clinics, drugs, specialists, but nothing seemed to work. All the stress of trying to get pregnant—well, to be quite honest, all of it put a huge strain on our marriage and it was at a breaking point—so we gave up trying and concentrated on our marriage instead.”
“I’m sorry,” Amanda began to say when the waitress came over to their table to take their order.
“Would Pepperoni be okay?” Karen asked Amanda.
Amanda nodded her head and added. “And I’ll have a Sprite.”
“We’ll have a small Pepperoni pizza and two Sprites,” Karen told the waitress.
“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” the waitress said leaving the table. Karen began to twist the napkin again.
Amanda looked around the room. “Karen, I know there’s something bothering you. What are you not telling me?”
“We had given up ever having a baby of our own, and then about nine months ago, I found out I was pregnant.”
“Oh, Karen, that’s great news!”
Karen’s eyes began to fill with tears. “Do you know what you are having?” she asked.
Amanda shook her head. “No, Lee and I decided we didn’t want to know.”
Karen nodded in reluctant understanding. “Because this was our first child and I’m a slightly older mother, the doctor suggested an amniocentesis. Both Bob and I were thrilled when we found out I was carrying a healthy baby girl.”
Amanda was about to say something, but could see the pain and grief etched on Karen’s face.
“What happened?” Amanda asked slowly.
Karen looked up at the ceiling, trying to blink back her tears. She lowered her head again looking at Amanda, tears streaming down her face. “Last Friday, while Bob was away on a training exercise out at sea, I went into labor. I was two weeks early, but my doctor told me I was fine—that the baby would be fine—that babies are born early all the time. My regular doctor was across town delivering twins—so Dr. Andersen, who was on-call that night delivered my baby.”
The waitress returned with their drinks and after she left Amanda nodded her head, encouraging Karen to continue.
“I’m not exactly sure what happened—I know there were some complications and I was heavily sedated—but I also know what I heard.”
Amanda looked at her friend confused.
“I heard my baby—I know I heard my baby girl cry, but the doctor told me she was stillborn.”
Amanda gasped. “Oh, Karen, I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t believe my baby was stillborn. I know what I heard—what I saw—I saw the nurse take her out of the room—she was pink and healthy—she was not dead. I think she was stolen—the baby they brought to me was so small—maybe five pounds—but at my last appointment, my doctor told me I was carrying at least a seven-pound baby. I also felt no connection to this baby as I held her—I just know it wasn’t her.” Karen openly wept, the tears falling fast, staining her face. “I believe the doctor and nurse are lying to me and took my baby. Amanda, I need your help.”
“What do you think I can do?” Amanda asked taking a sip of her soda.
“I’ve lived in the greater DC area most of my life and I know there are Federal Agents living among us—funny, I never thought you would be one.”
Amanda laughed out loud. “Karen, you always had a vivid imagination.”
“It's okay, Amanda. I was so distraught over the loss of my baby, when I talked to Bob over the phone this weekend; he told me you were one of them.”
Amanda tried to brush her off again. “One of what?”
Karen looked around the restaurant, and then leaning over the table, she whispered, “Amanda, Bob is now a high ranking naval officer aboard a Trident nuclear submarine. He has Delta Green security clearance. He knows all about the Agency and suggested that maybe I could ask you to look into this. I went to the police, but they don’t believe me. They think I’m a delusional mother, looking for answers after losing my baby. I know in my heart that she’s alive. I also know what I saw and heard and I believe she was kidnapped. I’m begging you, please help me.”
Amanda sat there trying to think of a good argument, but knew she didn’t have one.
“What would you do if this happened to you?” Karen asked, watching Amanda rub her belly. “Wouldn’t you want answers too, if this happened to your son or daughter?”
Amanda reluctantly nodded her head, thinking, ‘How am I ever going to explain this to Lee?’
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A Street Corner, Arlington, Virginia
Tuesday, January 9, 1990
2:00 AM
A man and a woman sat under a streetlight in a filthy white cargo van. The woman held a baby in her arms, her body rocking back and forth. “Shhhh,” she whispered, trying to comfort the infant. “It’s okay.” The woman was startled by a sudden loud knock on the van’s window.
The man rolled down the window. “Do you have the agreed upon payment?” he asked.
A well-dressed man nodded, and handed over a briefcase, passing it through the open window.
The man in the van, flipped open the briefcase, and looked at the bills. “Good.” He closed the briefcase, before setting it down on the floorboard.
The woman opened the passenger door handing the well-dressed man the baby and a large manila envelope. “Here’s the baby and her paperwork. Remember no questions—you don’t know us and we don’t know you.”
Taking the baby, he nodded his head, before heading back to his car and his wife—who was anxiously waiting for the child in his arms.
Act Two
4247 Maplewood Drive
Tuesday, January 9, 1990
6:00 AM
Amanda stared at the shadows on the ceiling, in a feeble attempt to fall asleep. She rolled to her side and then over on to her back. Unable to get comfortable, she decided to get up as not to disturb Lee. She sat at the edge of the bed and watched Lee turn over, breathing gentle light breaths that signaled he was still sound asleep. Amanda watched him for a few minutes and couldn’t help but smile. These were days when she felt like she was the luckiest woman on the earth to have such a devoted and loving husband. Then getting out of bed, she put on her bathrobe and went downstairs.
She went into the laundry room and filled the washer with a load of whites. After putting the detergent and bleach into the machine, she started it. Next, she decided to tackle the large pile of ironing on the dryer. She put one of Lee’s shirts on the ironing board and proceeded to iron it. She was halfway through another shirt, when she felt a familiar pair of strong arms enveloped her swollen belly.
“You’re up early.” Lee tenderly moved her hair to the side, and kissed her neck.
“I couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to disturb you.”
He yawned and stretched.
Amanda turned around to face him. “I’m sorry, Dear, I haven’t started any coffee yet this morning. You go upstairs and wake up the boys, get them going, and I’ll get the coffee on.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He gave her a long, slow kiss, before heading upstairs.
Amanda turned on the small kitchen TV to hear the early morning news. Then after starting the coffee, she got the ingredients for breakfast out of the refrigerator. A few minutes later, while standing by the stove, turning over the bacon, she noticed Lee return. Putting the spatula down, she handed him a cup of coffee.
“Thanks, Honey. I can’t tell you how much I needed that coffee right now.”
“Well, you didn’t make it home until after 3:00 this morning. I’m surprised you’re awake, let alone standing.”
Lee put the coffee cup down on the counter. Then drawing her into his arms, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close as her expanding belly would allow. “You’re looking sexy and cute as ever,” he whispered in her ear.
Lee could see Amanda’s cheeks flush and he smiled down at her.
She pushed away from him, sighing, after hearing the boys arguing as they came down the stairs entering the kitchen.
“Wormbrain, what are you doing with my shirt?” Phillip said.
“It’s not your shirt, it’s mine. Hey, give that back.”
Amanda heard a loud thud and she cringed. She gave Lee a knowing look. “Let me go settle that,” he told her turning toward the boys, crossing his arms in front of him.
“Hey! Hey, what’s going on up there?” Neither boy looked at him as they and continued to argue.
“Ohhh, you are going to pay for that,” Phillip snapped.
Lee looked at both boys, then trying to get control of the situation, he whistled, finally getting their attention. “Fellas, what’s going on between you two?”
“Jamie, the four-eyed freak, took my shirt instead of ironing his own.”
“I only took it because you told me I could wear it.”
“I did not.”
“Did too.”
“You just want to wear my clothes, because they’re way cooler than yours just to impress Kristi Patterson, who is totally out of your league.”
“Shut up—you jerk!”
“A jerk’s a tug, a tug’s a boat, a boat’s on water, water’s nature and nature’s beautiful—so thanks for the compliment.” Phillip taunted his younger brother.
Jamie punched his brother in the arm.
“No hitting your brother.” Lee grabbed them both by the arms. “Jamie, I want you to go to the laundry room, and find another shirt. Your mother just finished ironing several of them. Phillip, finish getting ready for school.”
Both boys followed Lee’s instructions. Dotty entered skirting around the boys, carrying several large books.
“Glad you were able to stop World War III back there,” she said to Lee, patting him on the cheek. After putting down her books down, she threw up her arms. “Boys!” Touching Amanda’s abdomen, she continued, “Let’s hope this one’s a girl. Although, you were a very precocious child yourself.”
“Moth-er.” Amanda rolled her eyes and shook her head. Then she noticed all the books her mother had placed on the counter. “What have you got there?”
“The contractor stopped by last night with these wallpaper sample books and this color wheel thingy with paint chips--I just don’t know how I’m ever going to make all these choices.” Dotty sat down on the bar stool and flipped open the first book. “Oh, Amanda, what do you think of this for the bathroom?”
Amanda scraped some eggs onto the plates she had placed on the counter. Then looking over her mother’s shoulder she looked at the book. “That’s very nice, but I like this floral pattern, too, Mother.” She placed two slices of bacon, buttered toast on each plate, and handed them over to Lee to carry over to the breakfast table.
“So, do I,” Dotty said continuing to flip through the pages.
“How was lunch with your friend Karen?” Lee asked Amanda.
“Karen?” Dotty questioned raising her head. “Wasn’t she one of your sorority sisters? Other than an occasional card or letter—I didn’t think you had kept in touch.”
“Yes, Mother, I’ve lost touch with Karen over the years, but she called me yesterday for an impromptu lunch. So we made up for lost time,” Amanda said before pausing for a moment. “Mother, could you make sure the boys eat their breakfast. I need to talk to Lee for a moment in the family room.”
“Sure, Darling,” she said, then hollered, “Phillip, Jamie, your breakfast is ready.”
The boys thundered down the stairs. “Thanks Grandma,” they both answered.
Amanda grabbed Lee’s arm, leading him towards the family room. After helping her sit down on the sofa, he sat down next to her. “I didn’t want Mother to overhear our conversation.”
“So, I gathered.”
“I’m concerned about Karen.” Amanda looked around, verifying no one was eavesdropping. “She had a baby last Friday and was told she was stillborn, but she honestly believes her baby is not dead and the doctor is lying to her. Now, I did a little investigating—”
“A-man-da.”
“Nothing dangerous, just research.” She gave him a pleading look, begging him to understand. “Karen is convinced that her baby was kidnapped.”
“Amanda, this is not Agency business.”
“No, Lee, I disagree. I think Karen may have stumbled onto something. I feel sorry for her and I want to give her some comfort during this difficult time. All I want to do is talk to some other mothers and see if their stories are similar to Karen’s.”
Lee could tell Amanda was not going to take no for an answer so he reluctantly agreed. “Okay, I’ll let you continue investigating this, but only today. Meet me at the office later this afternoon and let me know what you’ve found out and if it’s worth investigating further—we’ll let Billy know.”
Amanda threw her arms around Lee, kissing him on the cheek. “Thanks, Sweetheart.” Then glancing down, she added, “I better go upstairs and get myself ready for work. Can you make sure the boys leave for school on time?”
“I’ll handle it.” He said, helping her off the sofa. “Now go on.”
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4:00 PM
Amanda walked into the Q-Bureau exhausted. Her hand was on her back as she padded over to the sofa. Lee stood up from his desk and helped her get down, before he sat down next to her. She kicked off her shoes and wiggled her toes.
“Long day?” He put his arm around her shoulder.
She snuggled close to him, leaning into his embrace, nodding her head. “I started out at the clinic where Karen gave birth. The staff admires Dr. Andersen; he’s well liked and respected. Attended medical school at the University of Maryland, residency at Parker General Hospital, works at three clinics in the greater DC Metro area—two are low-income clinics.”
“A real pillar of society.”
Amanda nodded. “I also found out his nurse, Susanne Wilson, does volunteer work at an adoption agency.”
“Amanda, I’m sorry for your friend’s loss, but there appears to be nothing to go on.”
“That’s what I was beginning to think also, until I looked into county birth records and I contacted three mothers, whose babies were listed as being stillborn. And in each one of those cases the mothers remember hearing their babies crying or seeing them move as they were taken out of the room—when they asked to see the baby or hold the baby. They were told the baby had already been taken to the morgue for an autopsy and then would be cremated, so they never saw them. My instincts are telling me that these babies were not dead—but taken from their mothers—who were often low-income, single mothers and then these babies are sold on the black market.”
“Not that I don’t trust your instincts—”
Amanda shot him a ‘don’t go there buster’ look.
He continued, “Karen wouldn't fit in with those other women.”
“I know. That’s what’s strange.”
Lee nodded. “Okay, let’s see Billy, tell him what you found and see what he says.” Lee took his wife’s hand; helping her up. His hand rested at the small of her back, steadying her while she walked down the stairs and toward the closet elevator.
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“This is good work, Amanda,” Billy told her as the three of them sat in his office. “What would you like to do from here?”
“I think I’d like to investigate this a little further; maybe from the inside. I could pose as a patient,” Amanda said to Billy and then looked toward Lee. She knew he wasn’t going to be happy about this.
Billy nodded his head. “That sounds fine. I’ll give you the go ahead. First, I think you should go to fabrication and have them set you up a new identity and some false medical files.”
“Now, wait a minute, Billy—” Lee started to say.
Billy held up his hand, stopping him. “Lee, I know what you are going to say. I’m more than aware of the risks to Amanda and your unborn child—but her being pregnant makes her the perfect agent for this case.” He turned to Amanda, “but if things get too hot—I want you out immediately.”
“Yes, Sir," Amanda agreed.
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Community Health Center, Alexandria, Virginia
4:00 PM
Dr. Andersen walked into the Community Health Clinic and went straight over to the reception desk.
“Good morning, Dr. Andersen,” a short, stout, older woman with greying hair said to him. “Here are your messages.” She handed him several pink slips of paper.
“Thank you, Janet,” he said politely smiling at her.
Her face flushed and she smiled back him.
The handsome young doctor knew he had that effect on woman and used it to his advantage. He looked over the messages as he turned to head toward his office.
Gaining her composure, Janet cleared her throat. “Oh, I almost forgot, a lady, possibly a new patient came by earlier today asking questions about the clinic, and you, and Nurse Wilson.”
“Okay, thanks. Did she leave a name?”
“No.” She shook her head. “She was tall, brunette, late thirties, I assumed she was looking for an ob—I recommended you highly.”
“You’re a peach, Janet.”
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Q-Bureau
5:30 PM
“I brought you something to eat.” Lee set a box down on her desk along with a bottle of fruit juice.
“Thank you, Sweetheart.” Amanda took the styrofoam box from him and opened it finding a pasta salad.
“How are you doing”? He sat down on the edge of her desk.
“I’m doing okay—just going over the scenario for this case.” Amanda noticed Lee look down at the floor, before he put his hand on the back of his neck.
“What’s wrong?” She already knew the answer to her question, but he needed to voice his misgivings about her accepting this assignment.
“I’m worried about you taking this case. Not only could you be endangering your life, but our baby as well.”
“Lee, I’m the best person for this case. Like Billy told you, being pregnant makes me the best agent for this assignment.”
“A-man-da,” he began. Then standing up, he paced the office. He stopped, rocking back on his heels. “Okay,” he grumbled. “But it’s not going to stop me from worrying about you. I don’t want anything to happen to you or the baby.”
Amanda stood up and walked over to him. She straightened his tie and then kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for worrying about me, but I can look after myself and it’s a good cover. Please let me solve this case. This means more to me than you can imagine especially with me being pregnant, and hopefully, I can find some information on who is taking these babies and bring closure to these women who have lost their children. You would want the same, wouldn’t you?
Lee nodded his head. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” Amanda repeated, wrapping her arms around his neck and drawing him close.
“Promise me you you’ll be careful and that you’ll call for backup immediately, if needed.”
“Agreed,” Amanda said pushing back. “Do you remember the time we were in the Betsy Ross Estates house and we shook hands after I solved the case about the weapons being shipped to Central America?”
Lee smiled at the memory. “Yes, and you put cheery blue curtains and a rug in the kitchen and made me make strawberry daiquiris.”
“I never made you do anything; and it’s not like it took much persuading at all,” she teased. She watched Lee compose himself. Amanda knew exactly how to calm him down, and make him agree to something he may have disagreed with.
Lee raised an eyebrow and then laughed. “As always, you’re right, although you better finish eating. You’re making me feel apprehensive when I think that the baby might be hungry.”
Amanda released him and walked back to her desk. Sitting down, she went back to eating her dinner. Lee stood behind her, holding up the file folder for both of them to read. “Now, let’s go over this scenario together,” Lee suggested.
Act Three
Wednesday, January 10, 1990
4:30 AM
Suzanne Wilson sat in the front passenger seat of the cargo van. Her knees pulled up to her chest. She turned to her companion. “Why did you have to kill her, Martin? No one would have believed her. She was delirious and delusional.”
“And she was investigating us and the clinics. No, Mrs. Stevens needed to be stopped.”
“Martin, I’m a nurse. I save lives. I don’t take them.”
“Tough, because now you’re an accessory to murder. This is all your fault, Suzanne—if you had removed the baby more quickly; she wouldn’t have heard the baby cry. We can’t run the risk of someone believing her story and coming to investigate us.”
“I want out Martin—you hear me—out! I was only in this for the money. I just sell the babies. I don’t commit murder.”
“Shut up, Suzanne!” he snapped. “You liked the money those unfortunate souls were giving us. So deal with it! It’s better for these children anyway—most of these mothers can’t take care of themselves let alone a child—these babies have a chance to grow up in affluent neighborhoods, attend the best schools, have normal lives—not live in poverty.”
“But Mrs. Stevens wasn’t one of those women.”
“Yes, it was unfortunate that Mrs. Stevens, delivered a healthy baby girl that night—we had a buyer anxious for a daughter—it was too easy—her husband out to sea—she was so out of it—there had already been a stillbirth that evening—if only you had been quicker.” His face turned beet red.
“Please let me go—I just want out—I promise I won’t tell anyone about you or what we did.”
The young good-looking doctor, turned to face her stroking her cheek, and then he pointed to the body lying in the back of the van. “I advise you to reconsider your decision, Suzanne or you’ll be next.” The look her gave her, made her blood freeze. Slowly she nodded her head.
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Beltway Medical Clinic, Washington DC
9:15 AM
Dr. Andersen opened the door to his office, ushering Amanda inside. “Mrs. Keene, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Dr. Martin Andersen. I understand you recently moved back to the area and are looking for an ob-gyn.” He extended his hand in greeting.
She returned his handshake, started for a moment by his looks—no wonder woman trusted him. “Yes.”
Dr. Andersen walked behind his desk and sat down. He opened the folder, reviewing her records. “You don’t have a name listed for the father.”
“Is that a problem?”
He put the folder down and leaned forward. “No, not really, but we’ll need his name for the birth certificate.”
Amanda nodded her head looking down at the floor ashamed. “Please don’t judge me—you see, I’m an unwed mother, who was in a relationship with a man who bailed when I told him I was pregnant. I have two teenage sons from a previous marriage and wonder what sort of example I am setting for them—I tell them to wait for marriage—” she broke off trying not to cry.
Dr. Andersen handed Amanda a tissue. “There’s no reason to feel ashamed. We all make mistakes, Amanda—may I call you Amanda?”
Amanda sniffled. Dabbing her eyes, she nodded her head again. “I’ve had to move in with my mother just to make ends meet.”
The doctor nodded his head in sympathy. “I’m not here to judge. I just want to make sure the remainder of your pregnancy continues to go well and that you deliver a healthy baby.” He paused for a moment before asking. “May, I ask you a personal question?”
Amanda nodded wringing the tissue in her hand.
“Have you considered what might be best for your child—maybe giving the baby up for adoption?” He smiled at her.
His smile did not appear genuine and Amanda suddenly felt very uncomfortable. “Thank you, Dr. Andersen,” she managed to croak out. "I have my mother and she has agreed to help me raise this child.”
Dr. Andersen smiled again and with a quick nod of his head, he continued to read her chart. “Do you know if your baby is a boy or a girl?”
“No,” Amanda admitted.
“I see your previous doctor didn’t recommend an ultrasound or amniocentesis—quite frankly I’m surprised.”
“Why?”
“We like to see our older mothers have additional testing—just to make sure everything’s all right. It’s something you might want to consider.”
“No, Doctor,” she stated simply. “I’m aware of the risks associated with amniocentesis—including premature birth. I rather not have one.”
“Fair enough.” He closed the folder. “If you would like me to be your doctor—I have a cancellation this morning and can examine you now.”
A loud beeping sound filled the room. Dr. Andersen pulled his pager from his belt loop and looked at the display screen. “Just a moment, I need to take this. I can have a nurse come down and take you to one of our exam rooms.”
“Okay.”
“Good.” He headed toward the door. “I’ll have a nurse escort you in a few minutes to another room.”
Watching the door close behind the doctor, Amanda stood up and quickly rifled through his desk drawers and file cabinets. She pulled out a file labeled birth certificates and laid the file down on the desk. Then taking out a small surveillance camera from her purse, she snapped pictures of them. Hearing the doorknob turn, she hurriedly returned the folder to the file cabinet.
“Mrs. Keene?” The nurse hesitated for a moment seeing Amanda standing near the doctor’s desk.
“Yes,” Amanda replied. "I'm sorry, I was looking for a trash can."
"Right there," the nurse said pointing to a small waste paper basket next to the desk. "I’m here to take you down to the exam room. Are you ready?”
“Sort of—can we stop at the restroom on the way?”
The nurse relaxed and smiled. “No problem. We’ll need a sample anyway,” she said handing Amanda a small plastic cup.
“Of course.”
Amanda was sitting on the exam table when the doctor returned. “Your vitals and weight look good,” he said before laying her down on the table. He checked her ankles and feet. “You have some mild swelling in your ankles—try to stay off your feet as much as possible,” he suggested. Then after hearing the baby’s heart rate, he measured her uterus. “Hmmm?”
“What?” Amanda allowed him to help her sit up.
“According to your records you’re 30 weeks along—but you’re measuring only 28 weeks. I’m concerned about that. I know you’re set against an amniocentesis, but I would feel better if you had one. I could schedule one for you here at this clinic.”
Amanda bit her lip, before answering, “If you think its best, Doctor. But if you wouldn’t mind there’s a lab just a couple of blocks from my new job—I rather do it there. Maybe on my lunch break, so I don’t miss any more work.” Amanda watched the young doctor’s face change. Her instincts told her this man was up to something.
Dr. Andersen nodded his head. “Yes, of course. Just have the lab fax me a copy of the results and I would like to see you again next week, Amanda. Make an appointment at the front desk and it was good meeting you.” He squeezed her shoulder as he helped her stand up.
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Q-Bureau
12:00 PM
Amanda sat at her desk, scrutinizing the pictures Leatherneck had enlarged for her. “Lee, take a look at these.”
Lee walked over to her desk and stood behind her looking over her shoulder. “What am I looking at?”
“They’re birth certificates. I cross-referenced them with the death certificates I obtained at county records. Notice they all have matching dates, the sex of the babies all match and they all name the same doctor—Dr. Martin Andersen.”
“That’s good work.”
“I also did some research on stillbirth—did you know the average number of pregnancies that end in stillbirth is two percent? However, according to county records listing Dr. Andersen as the attending physician, the number is slightly higher. He works at three clinics, Silver Spring Birthing Center, Beltway Medical Center, and Community Health Clinic. Now, two of those clinics cater to low income woman, where the percentages could be slightly higher because of the mother’s medical history, poor nutrition, not seeing a doctor early in her pregnancy, ethnic factors, and so on.”
“What about the clinics themselves?”
“The clinics appear to be clean—no irregularities.”
“Going to be hard to nail this doctor.” He blew out his breath. “Anything else you can add.”
“No, nothing concrete. I don’t know—I just don’t trust him.”
“We can’t arrest him because you don’t trust him.”
“I know that!” she snapped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just tired, I guess.”
Lee rubbed her shoulders.
“Mmmm, that feels good.” She rolled her shoulders. “It’s the way he kept insisting I have an amniocentesis—wanting to know the sex of the baby and then lying about how far along I am. Dr. Adams has me at 30 weeks and tells me everything looks good.”
“Do you want to continue to investigate from this angle?” He asked sitting on the edge of her desk.
Amanda nodded her head. “Yes. Fabrication is making up my lab results as we speak—it will show I’m having a healthy baby boy.”
Lee grinned and Amanda couldn’t help but notice.
“Is that what you want?”
“Amanda, I don’t care. All I want is a healthy baby.” He paused for a moment. “What about you?”
“Me too.”
“Ah-ha.” He pointed at her. “I know you aren’t telling me the truth.”
She looked up at him. “No, I really want a healthy baby, boy or girl. I’ll admit part of me hopes it’s a girl, since I already have two boys. But I know about raising boys and would feel comfortable with another boy.”
Lee shrugged. “Yes, a boy would be nice—but I already have two stepsons to do things with—I would love a daughter who’s as beautiful as her mother and has a nose for trouble.”
“Trouble? I’ll show you trouble, Buster.” She lightly slugged his arm. He grabbed her hand bringing it to his mouth; he kissed her knuckles.
“You’re not—you know sorry we don’t know?”
Lee shook his head. “No, sometimes secrets can be good.” He bent over kissing her deeply on the lips. When he pulled away, he cleared his throat. “Now, back to the case at hand. We’re going to have to catch the good doctor in the act of selling babies.”
“Maybe, the Loving Hands Adoption Agency where Suzanne Wilson works—is the avenue we should take.”
“True, but no one would believe we’re looking to adopt a baby.” He looked at her very rounded belly.
“Yes,” she admitted. “We need to send in someone who can pose as a married couple looking to adopt.”
They both smiled at the same time.
“Are you thinking, what I’m thinking?”
“Of course, great minds think alike, Stetson.”
Lee gave Amanda a lopsided grin. “After all I hear they’re darling together.”
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Loving Hands Adoption Agency, Georgetown
Friday, January 12, 1990
10:00 AM
Hand in hand Francine and Beaman entered the Loving Hands Adoption Agency and walked over to the reception desk.
“Good morning. How may I help you?” the young perky receptionist asked.
“We’re Mr. and Mrs. Beckman. We have an appointment this morning with Mr. Monson.” Beaman squeezed Francine’s hand and she smiled back at him.
“Oh, yes, the Beckman’s. Welcome to Loving Hands Adoption Agency—where we bring families together. We’re so happy you’re here.”
“Thank you,” Francine answered.
“Please take a seat, I’ll inform Mr. Monson you’re here and while you’re waiting would you mind filling out this little questionnaire for us?”
Beaman took the clipboard from the receptionist and handed it to Francine. “Puddin’ Pie, do you mind?”
“No, I’d be happy to sweet cheeks.” Mentally gagging, she gave him a fake smile.
The receptionist went down the hall and Francine quickly let go of Beaman’s hand. “Puddin’ Pie? I’ll get you back for that.” Then looking at the clipboard, she groaned. “A little questionnaire—they’ve got to be kidding—it’s twelve pages long.”
Beaman smiled at her, handing her a pen. “Then I guess you better get writing.”
Several minutes later, the receptionist came back down the hall. “Mr. and Mrs. Beckman, Mr. Monson will see you now. Right this way.”
They entered the office and Mr. Monson who was standing behind his desk, extended his hand, shaking both of their hands. “Mr. and Mrs. Beckman, so nice to meet you. Oh good, I see you have filled out our questionnaire. If I may?”
Francine handed the clipboard to Mr. Monson.
“Please, sit down.” He offered them the chairs in front of his desk. Francine and Beaman sat down. Beaman took Francine’s hand again. Mr. Monson turned his chair around facing the wall, while he looked at their file. He turned his chair back around, facing them. He laid down the file and smiled. “How long have you been married?”
Beaman lifted Francine hand, kissing it. “Five wonderful years.”
There was a knock on the door. “Enter.”
Nurse Wilson entered the room. “Suzanne, this is Efraim and Francine Beckman.”
“Pleased to meet you. No, don’t get up,” she said shaking their hands.
“Suzanne matches parents with the children. I asked her to join us.”
“Yes, of course,” Beaman said.
“Why do you want to adopt?” Mr. Monson asked them.
“We love children. Don’t we, Gumdrop?” Francine answered enthusiastically.
“Yes, Princess.” Beaman answered back.
“And when we found out Efraim was infertile—” She noticed Beaman raise his eyebrow, but she continued, “we were just devastated. We still want to house full of children and we thought adoption was the most logical course.”
Mr. Monson nodded his head. “I see you are looking for an infant. I hate to discourage parents—but adopting an infant means years of waiting—we have some lovely older children who are looking for good homes—would you consider an older child?”
“Maybe someday, but both the missus and I have our heart set on a baby.”
“I understand. I would be happy to place you on the waiting list, if everything checks out.”
“Checks out?” Francine asked.
“Well, yes, we do an intensive background check, several home checks--we want to make sure it's a perfect fit--for the parents as well as the child. There will be lots of paperwork to fill out. Adoption is not an easy process and is very expensive.”
Francine looked over at Beaman and she nodded her head. “We’re willing to pay anything, to put us at the head of the list.”
“Sorry, we here at Loving Hands, do not operate that way. Maybe you would be better off adopting through a private party,” Mr. Monson told them.
“Thanks for your time.” Francine quickly ushered Beaman out the door.
“I’ll show you out,” Suzanne offered.
They walked out down the hall and out the door. “Did you really mean you’ll pay anything?” she asked them.
“That’s right. Like my husband said, we’ll pay anything.”
“It won’t come cheap—but I think I can help you. Do you have a preference on the sex?”
They both shook their heads no.
She gave them a business card. “Call me at this number and I'll see what I can do for you." Francine and Beaman looked at each other and then watched Suzanne as she walked back into the building.
Act Four
Community Health Center
11:30 AM
“Morning, Janet. How’s my favorite receptionist?” Dr. Andersen asked handing her a single red rose.
Janet’s cheeks flushed. “Dr. Andersen, you shouldn’t have?”
He smiled down at her. “Any messages?”
“No, Doctor. But I wanted to know did that pregnant woman call you?”
“Pregnant woman? What pregnant woman?”
“The one I told you about—she came by asking all those questions—I recommended you.”
Dr. Andersen face turned ashen.
“Doctor, are you alright?”
“Yes, fine. Describe this woman again.”
“Sure, she was in her thirties, medium-length brunette hair, tall—”
“And you said she was pregnant—how far along would you say she was?”
“Oh, I would guess she was in her third trimester.”
‘Damn,’ he thought. “Thanks, I’ll be in my office,” he said winking at her. Then he quickly walked down the corridor.
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4247 Maplewood Drive
11:45 AM
Dotty had just finished putting a chicken in the oven, when she heard the doorbell. She walked over the front door opening it. “Yes?”
“Mrs. West?” The man asked extending his hand, he held out a business card. “Good morning. My name is David O’Neil from American Painting Company—I’m here for an estimate on painting your apartment.”
“Oh, yes of course.” She took his card and opened the door further. “Won’t you come in?”
Mr. O’Neil walked down the foyer steps.
“I’m sorry for the mess as you can tell we’re remodeling and slightly behind schedule. Let me grab my coat and I’ll show you the apartment. It’s not much to look at yet—the framers only finished last week.”
He nodded his head. Dotty returned with her coat on and the painter opened the door for her, when the phone rang. “When it rains, it pours,” Dotty lamented. “I’ll be just a minute.” She picked up the telephone in the kitchen. “Hello.”
“Hello. This is Nurse Wilson. May I please speak to Amanda?”
“I’m sorry, she’s not here. Is there a message you wish to leave?”
“Is this Amanda’s mother?”
“Yes, I’m Amanda’s mother.”
“Good. This is Dr. Andersen’s office and we have a mix-up on some test results she had—and would like her to come back to the office as soon as possible.”
Dotty was confused. “Yes, I’ll be sure to tell her Dr. Adams office called.”
“Dr. Adams?” the nurse asked.
“Dr. Adams—Amanda’s ob.”
“Yes, of course, you are correct. I must have the name of the wrong doctor on this sticky note. I’m sure it’s correct on the chart. Well, goodbye and thanks for your time.”
“Okay. Bye.” Dotty hung up the phone. Then zipping up her coat, she headed out the door with the painter.
Community Health Center
After putting the receiver back in the cradle, Suzanne looked at the doctor. “We’ve got a big problem.”
Dr. Andersen forcefully pounded his fist on his desk out of frustration.
SMK SMK SMK SMK
Q-Bureau
The phone rang inside the Q-Bureau.
“IFF. Film Library,” Amanda answered.
“Hello, Amanda. This is Nurse Wilson. It would appear there was a mix-up at the lab and there was a problem with your urinalysis—they found some protein in the sample, and we want to make sure it wasn’t yours. Could you come by the office in Alexandria for another test?”
Amanda looked at her watch. “Sure, it’s almost time for my lunch break—I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Okay. See you soon.”
Billy’s Office
Lee, Billy, Francine and Beaman sat in the conference chairs in the section chief’s office.
“Well, there’s no doubt this nurse is involved in the illegal selling of babies,” Francine said debriefing the other agents.
“She said it’s won’t be cheap, but I feel the more we are willing to pay the further up the list we can get,” Beaman added.
“I agree. What about the business card she gave you?” Billy asked.
“Not much to go on—the number is for a service—most likely under an assumed name,” Francine told them.
“I have no doubt the doctor is as crooked as the nurse—and just as involved—if not more so. Hopefully, we can sent up a drop and catch them both,” Lee said.
“Okay, I’ll give you authorization to continue pursuing this, but I want Amanda off this case. Find out how much they want and we’ll go from there. Good work,” he said congratulating them.
Everyone stood up to leave, when there was a knock on the door.
“Come in.” Billy waved to the woman standing at the door to come into his office. “Thanks Barbara,” he said taking the folder from her and then opening it up he began to read. “Scarecrow,” he barked.
Lee stopped in the doorway, turning around to face Billy.
“Where’s Amanda?”
“She’s upstairs in the Q. Why?”
“It would appear late last night Metro found a body of a woman. She has been ID’ed as Amanda’s friend Karen Stevens.”
Lee swallowed hard, his jaw clenched. “The cause of death?”
“Preliminary autopsy reports say she was murdered—most likely poisoned.”
“Damn!” Lee swore grabbing the phone from Billy’s desk. After several rings, he quickly hung up calling another extension. “Mrs. Marston, Scarecrow. Is Amanda still in the building?”
“No, Scarecrow. She left a few minutes ago, but she left you a message saying she was heading to Dr. Andersen’s office in Alexandria.” Lee slammed the phone down rushing out the Bullpen doors. “Community Health Center,” he hollered.
“We’re right behind you,” Billy yelled after him, grabbing his revolver from his desk drawer.
Community Health Center
Amanda sat in the waiting room of the health center thumbing through an old magazine.
“Amanda Keene,” a nurse called out. Amanda stood up and walked with Suzanne through the door and down the hallway. “Thanks for coming. We’ll need another urine sample, but Dr. Andersen wanted to talk with you first.”
Nurse Wilson opened the door to the doctor’s office, allowing Amanda to step through the doorway first. “He’ll be right with you,” she told Amanda closing the door.
“Thanks, Suzanne.” Amanda sat down in a chair in front of the doctor’s desk.
A couple of minutes later, Dr. Andersen came into his office, carrying a chart. Suzanne was right behind him. “Mrs. Keene,” he began to say, walking behind her, he laid his hands on her shoulders and then produced a needle. “If that’s really your name?”
Amanda stomach clenched in fear. “I don’t know what you are talking about?”
“Oh, I think you do,” he said squeezing the syringe, a small amount of liquid shot out of it.
“No, Martin,” Suzanne pleaded. “No more!”
“Shut up, Suzanne!” he growled.
Amanda’s head snapped back. “More?”
“He murdered that nice Mrs. Stevens,” Suzanne told her.
“Karen,” Amanda whispered, trying to break free from the doctor’s grasp.
“So you knew Mrs. Stevens, did you? What are you FBI, CIA? Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter.” He put the needle to her forearm.
“What is that?” Amanda gasped.
“It’s the same thing that killed your friend Mrs. Stevens.”
“I’ll scream.” Her voice was sharp.
“Go ahead, this is a birthing center, woman scream all the time,” he said smugly.
“I won’t be a party to it again. I’m not a murderer!” Suzanne yelled, trying to grab the syringe from the doctor’s hand. Dr. Andersen raised his hand slapping her. She fell to the floor.
At that moment, Lee burst into the room with Billy and Francine right behind him. “Drop it now or you’re dead!”
The syringe fell to the floor and Dr. Andersen held up his hands, defeated. Lee cuffed him, and then threw him toward Francine. “Get him out of here, before I hurt him.” He went to Amanda and pulling her out of the chair, he hugged her tightly. “Thank God!” was all he could say.
Tag
4247 Maplewood Drive
Sunday, January 14, 1990
9:00 AM
Lee came down the stairs and entered the family room. He saw his wife sitting on the sofa holding a sleeping baby in her arms. He thought to himself what a beautiful sight that was and how much more right it would look when she was holding their baby. She looked up at him and smiled. He swallowed the lump that was in his throat and padded over to her giving her a quick peck on her lips. Earlier that morning, she had let him feed her and showed him how to change a diaper. He thought he handled it well—no big thing in raising babies—it would be a piece of cake once their own child arrived.
The doorbell rang and the baby stirred. Amanda gently rocked the baby, trying to lull her back asleep. Lee walked over to the foyer, opening the front door. A man in an officer’s dress uniform stood on the other side. “Commander Stevens?” Lee asked extending his hand.
The man returned his handshake. “Please, it’s Bob.”
“Lee Stetson,” he answered back, releasing his grip. “Your daughter is in the family room,” he told him leading him to where Amanda and the baby were.
“Please, don’t stand up. Amanda, it’s good to see you again, and I can’t thank you—both of you for everything you have done for Caitlyn and I.”
Lee took the baby from Amanda, handing her over to her father.
“I’m sorry about Karen. She was a good friend,” Amanda said.
Bob Stevens nodded his head, but was too busy looking into his daughter’s eyes to really listen. “Karen’s service will be Wednesday at the Community Church.”
“We’ll be there,” Amanda answered for both of them.
“Thanks for believing her and bringing my daughter back to me,” he said, his voice full of emotion. “Well, I won’t take up any more of your Sunday morning.”
Amanda held up her hand, Lee helped her off the sofa, and they both followed Bob to the front door. Lee put his arm around her as they stood in the doorway, his other hand resting on her swollen belly. They watched Bob put his daughter into her carseat, before heading around to the other side of the car. He waved to them once more before driving away.
Lee turned his head to look at Amanda. “That feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, although, I’m sorry we couldn’t have done more to save Karen.”
“I’m sorry about her death, too.” Closing the door behind them, Lee led her into the kitchen. “But we did stop that doctor and nurse from kidnapping babies and illegally selling them. We have turned the case over to the FBI and hopefully they can match the records and return babies to their rightful parents—just like Karen’s baby. She’s the real hero in all this.”
Amanda sadly agreed. She then kissed him on the cheek.
“What’s that for?”
“For you—being you, and for letting me solve this case. It meant a lot to me—more than you know.”
“No, Mrs. Stetson, I do know.” He rested his hand on her belly again. The baby kicked and he flashed his wife a dimpled grin.
“Only nine more weeks—are you ready, Mr. Stetson?”
“With you by my side, I’m ready for anything,” he said touching his lips softly to hers.
The End