If she would have him.
28
A Curse
As part of every FBI case, agents create a profile of their subject. Evangeline needed to compile basic information on Charlene that included her name, date and place of birth, physical characteristics like eye and hair color, all known addresses, employment history, a credit report, criminal record, and any aliases. Even with an understanding that things moved slowly in the federal space, she had expected she would be farther along.
Over the past two weeks, she’d not been able to garner anything about Charlene prior to her arrival in D.C. as Charlene Smythe, a decade ago. It was as if the Washington socialite had materialized out of thin air. Despite having no known past, she’d become a rising star in all the prominent social circles. She’d even served on several boards of well-known companies in the region. There was a plethora of information available on her, but nothing from before she made the District of Columbia her home. It was as if the first forty-three years of Charlene’s life had never existed at all.
As stuck as Evangeline had been, Charlene’s top-notch legal team had been swift and effective. The government had argued at her bail hearing that she was a flight risk, but her lawyer had convinced the judge to agree to an ankle monitor. Her bond had been set and they’d posted it.
Despite her gallivanting around D.C. with her head held high, the press had exposed her for the baby trafficker that she was. But her lawyers were holding firm that their client was running a legitimate adoption agency and that the kidnapping charge involving her stepdaughter and grandson was the result of a “huge misunderstanding”.
Thinking about that “misunderstanding” nauseated her.
Fellow Special Agent Joanne Wong entered Evangeline’s cubicle holding two cups. “I come with a gift. Decaf.” She handed Evangeline a coffee. “It’s four thirty and I wasn’t sure if caffeine keeps you awake. If I so much as look at high octane past noon, I’m up all night.”
“Thank you. This is perfect.” Evangeline paused to sip the hot java. “How’s it going?”
Joanne sat in the guest chair. “My eyes hurt from staring at the computer all day. Did you know Charlene Caraway keptallher emails?”
“Yeah. It’s great for building our case.”
“She has tens of thousands of them.”
“At least you guys are making progress. I can’t even build a simple profile on her.”
“What’s missing?”
“Everything prior to her coming here. Charlene Smythe doesn’t exist and then, boom, she’s D.C.’s darling.”
“Have you interviewed her about her past?”
“I’ve been advisednotto do that, given my personal relationship with her. I’d probably throttle her, for starters.”
Joanne laughed. “What about aliases?”
“Nothing.”
“What about checking her DNA to see if you get a hit?” Joanne asked. “Maybe Smythe wasn’t her real maiden name.”
Evangeline checked her email. “The DNA test is still in process. I was told the results would take another few weeks.”
“Let me see what I can do.” Joanne picked up the handset on Evangeline’s desk phone and dialed. “Is Kiki working today?” She gave Evangeline the thumbs up. “Hey, Kiki, it’s Jo. How backed up are the DNA tests?…Uh-huh…Charlene Caraway…It’s for Evangeline Worthington.” Joanne laughed. “I’ll pass on your message. Thanks for your help. I’ll see you Sunday.” Joanne hung up. “Kiki and I were at Quantico together. Anyway, she said she’d bump it to the front, but she wants to meet Sinclair Develin. She saw him at your press conference a couple of months ago and has been obsessing over him ever since.”
Evangeline chuckled. “Thanks for pushing that through. I really appreciate it.”
“Happy to help. I’ll keep you posted on the email results.” As Joanne left, Evangeline’s desk phone rang.
She picked up. “Worthington.”
“Evangeline, it’s Jim. Can you swing by my office?”
With coffee in hand, she headed to her boss’s office. A tremor skittered through her. The last time she’d been called in, her world had imploded around her. Once there, she eased into the chair across from his desk.
“How’s the case coming along?”
“Snails are whizzing by me like Ferraris.”
