𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.
**Flashback—**
"Good morning, Officer Prentiss," he says, slapping a folder on my desk.
"Aww, come on, it's 8:30 - I haven't even had my coffee yet," I say, opening the folder.
"A young boy found frozen to death," he says as I continue to look through the case files.
No name
Estimated age: 11
No family
"Why do you want me to work the case?"
"Well, you're looking for a promotion, aren't ya?"
I nod and grab my jacket. "I guess we're going to Lakewood."The car ride goes fast; we jump out of the car into the cold. The boy's fingers are slipping out of the tarp. Blue.
"What are we looking at?" the detective asked me.
*Isn't that your job?* "Maybe an incident, probably drowning or, since there's no missing persons report, perhaps a runaway who couldn't find shelter."
**POV Change—**
"What happened to Tommy?"
"He wasn't strong enough. He couldn't take the cold," he says, fixing my jacket.
"But you, Molly, and Liam. You guys are strong." I smile, realizing it was a compliment. He puts us into the car and drives; I adore the icy country scenery.
"We're here!" Liam shouts from the backseat. It's a huge house, probably three stories. He takes off our jackets and leads us into the house with the other kids.
**POV Change—**
"Did you run his fingerprints through missing persons and exploited children?" I ask.
"Yes, no match. But here's the interesting thing: the time of death shows around seven hours ago. I thought it was just the cold, but look—" She shows his feet, purple instead of light blue like the rest of his body.
"What does this mean?"
"The skin layers from the toes are different colors, which means he's at least gone through hypothermic shock six times in the past year."
"But the temperature only started to drop last week. Does that mean this was torture?"
"My assumption, yes, or at least some type of ritual."
"Are we looking at a cult?" *Or maybe abuse?*
"Who would do this to their kid?" the detective says, walking out of the medical examiner's office.
"What if this wasn't their kid? Maybe abusive foster parents or kidnappers?"
"Thank you," I say, running back into the warm car.
"How many social service and child welfare offices are there?"
"In this county, maybe like three. I know one about six miles from here." So I motion for him to drive, and we make our way there.
**- About 10 minutes later -**I get out of the car and make my way towards the front desk. "Hello, Denver County Police." I pull out my identification, and so does Detective Derry.
"Yes, what may I help you with?"
"We are looking for your foster care/child adoption team." She stands up and guides us down a hall into a room.
"Hello, ma'am, this is the police." The lady nods and leaves.
"Hi, we are wondering if you've seen this boy or probably put him in a home?" She looks at him in shock.
"That's Mason Smith, the Carigers' kid. Is he dead?!" I nod.
"The Carigers? Does that mean he was fostered?" She nods and types on her computer, trying to hold back her tears and disgust.
"Yes, they've fostered over five kids. They seemed to be doing so well. Did they report this?" I shake my head as a file from the printer comes out.
"This is their house address. Please send them my condolences." She hands me the paper and goes back to her paperwork.
"Thank you." We drive towards the house.
"Looks empty," the detective says.
*No dip, Sherlock.*
I go around back to see the window open, run back to the front, and look through the door window. I see four kids' backpacks, dishes in the sink, and I look at the paper.
The Carigers,Lucy and Michael CarigerLucy is a stay-at-home motherMichael works at a meat-packing industryThey currently foster Molly, Jessie, Liam, and recently deceased Mason
"I think they just went somewhere."
"How do you know that?"
"The window is open, dishes in the sink, and no sign of a hurry. Also, coats are taken." He looks at me, then at the house.
"Maybe we should come back later?" he says, walking to the car.I nod and look at the case file. The kids look happy in the family photo—I look a little closer at their fingers. Blue.
"This has to be a connection—" I show him, and confusion strikes his face.
"Mason also had blue fingers, but we thought that was due to the frozen weather. But they all have blue fingers."
"What does that mean?" Sometimes, I wonder how the man got the lead detective role at the station.
"There's something deeper going on here."
"I think you know what we have to do." He looks at me, then back at the house.
"Please, don't tell me a stakeout," he smiles. So I'm going to stay in a car with a prepubescent detective who can't even solve a case by himself.
We first drive to get some food, burgers, and coffee.
The first hour goes by fast, just eating and studying more about the family. The second hour is the same: I study the children while Derry eats another burger. Then the third hour, and I see something in the driveway. I shake Derry up.
"Huh, what?" I shush him and point.The kids come out of the minivan with no coats or even shirts, just undershirts and underwear.I step out of the car, "Police!" I show my badge. "We want to ask you guys a few questions." I usher the kids inside.
"Yes, like why these kids don't have clothes on," Derry says. The lady looks afraid, but the husband remains calm.
YOU ARE READING
the girl who lost things
Fanfictionjessie is trying to adapt to her life as a daughter of the bau after her mother gets a job there. She finally wants a normal life after everything that happened when she was younger. but, her secrets can only stay hidden for so long. this is a crimi...
