Chapter 13 - THE CALL FROM BEATRICE
Beatrice called me from Florida.
She had avoided criminal charges in the first case by blaming most financial decisions on Grant and Catherine. Civil lawsuits stripped away her company authority, but she still had money, attorneys and relatives willing to protect her.
“You’re frightening an innocent family,” she said.
“You gave them Anna’s baby.”
“They adopted a child who needed parents.”
“You used a child as payment.”
“Their son was injured because Anna approved an unsafe device.”
The lie came naturally.
Anna’s records proved she had tried to stop the distribution.
Beatrice continued.
“Emily has a stable life. Dragging her into Anna’s obsession will destroy her.”
“Does Emily know she was adopted?”
Silence.
“Where did the family take her?”
“I don’t know.”
“You warned them.”
“I advised them not to let federal agents traumatize their daughter.”
I recorded the call with Rosa listening beside me.
Beatrice demanded a meeting.
She would disclose Emily’s location if I agreed to provide a statement saying the clean-audit letter had been lost before I could sign it.
That statement would weaken the remaining fraud cases against her.
She still believed fear of losing a child could force a mother’s signature.
“I’m not trading evidence for a girl’s address.”
“Then Anna may find her first.”
“What does that mean?”
“Anna believes every person who raised Emily stole her.”
The statement sounded like concern.
It was another attempt to make Anna appear dangerous.
I asked Beatrice one final question.
“Why did you keep using Lily’s photographs?”
“Because Anna needed to believe Emily was protected.”
“By the family that took her child?”
“She needed hope.”
“No. You needed distance.”
I ended the call.
Investigators traced Beatrice’s communications to a prepaid number used in North Carolina.
The adoptive family had rented a cabin near Asheville.
Anna’s phone signal appeared within twenty miles of the same location.
Rosa prepared to leave immediately.
I wanted to go.
She refused.
“This is not a reunion you can control.”
That evening, Lily overheard enough to understand that another girl was missing.
“Is she like me?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Did grown-ups tell her things that weren’t true?”
“Yes.”
Lily picked up Mr. Hops.
“Then somebody should tell her none of it was her fault.”
The next morning, police found the cabin.
The adoptive parents were inside.
May you like
Emily was gone.
A yellow blanket lay across her empty bed.
