Chapter 7 - Case Two:2

Chapter Six - Case Two:2



Ryiza tapped her fingers on the table as Ryan busied himself with his Gameboy, trying to set a new record on the completion time in Trace Memory. “Did you know that the abduction of older children only make up half of one percent of all kidnappings?” Ryiza asked.

“Hmm…”

“Forty-four percent of them die within the first hour,” she continued, ticking off on her fingers. “By the third hour-“

“Seventy-five percent, practically all of them by twenty-four,” Ryan listed off for her. “You got that off a television show.”

She slapped the table, making Ryan jump. “But it's true!” she stated, and then pointed a finger at him. “Where were you this morning at ten o clock?”

“…at the museum. With you.” Ryan finally grinned, and set the Gameboy aside. Ryiza quickly snatched it up and continued his game. “Heey-! You were just trying to distract me, weren't you?”

“Obviously, stupid.”

Ryan leaned on his arm and sighed, glancing at the clock. “So…Terryl went missing at the museum…and he's the governor's son. I'm pretty sure he'll survive, since he's probably being held for ransom.”

“ `ppose…” Ryiza mumbled, concentrating on the Gameboy.

Ryan stared at the clock for a moment longer, before poking his finger in his mouth. He removed it, and grinned as he leaned over to his sister. “Hey Riiiii-”

Amy opened the door to find Ryiza sitting on Ryan's stomach, giving her brother an Indian burn on his arm. “Don't you ever-EVER give me a wet willie!”

Amy raised an eyebrow at her children, repressing a smile. “Can't I leave you two alone for ten minutes without one of you trying to kill the other?”

Ryiza looked up at her mother, her hands still twisting her twin's skin as she smiled. “Hi mom! So, what's the notes on the case?”

Ryan finally wrapped his legs around Ryiza's neck and yanked her off, pinning her to the ground between his knees. She screamed and struggled, hitting his legs and calling him names.

“Stay there,” Ryan ordered. “Cool off.”

Amy walked to the counter and set her bag down. “So, what do you two want for dinner?”

“Information. Now.”

Amy faked a frown. “You can't eat that.”

Ryan grunted as he tightened his legs about Ryiza, who still released an endless stream of less-than-creative names for a thirteen year old. “C'mon mom, you promised.”

“Let your sister go first.”

Ryan sighed, and released Ryiza from his leg hold, and they both climbed into their chairs at the counter. Ryiza punched Ryan's arm and forced a fake pout. “Meanie-face ugly-butt,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Takes one to know one.”

“I'm rubber, you're glue-“

“Guys,” Amy cut her off. “Do you want to hear the case or not?”

Immediately both fell silent, their eyes focused intently on their mother. She smiled and rolled her eyes before pulling out her case file, and leaning onto the counter. “Let's see…Terryl Montz. Eleven years old, four feet seven inches, brown-blonde hair in a short style, blue eyes, wearing blue cargo jeans, a red baseball shirt, and had his black YuGi-Oh backpack with him.”

“Oh great. A John Doe of kids,” Ryan mumbled.

“He has a scar on his right arm - a skateboard accident from a few months ago,” Amy pointed out. Her face went suddenly solemn as she read the next statement from her notes. “He's also on artificial dialysis.”

“Wait-“ Ryiza sat up, all attention focused on Amy. “So he's sick?”

“Not exactly,” their mother explained patiently. “His kidney has problems. You know what the kidney does for the body?”

“It filters out waste, right?” Ryan guessed.

“Yes. But Terryl's kidneys don't work quite right, so he has to go into the hospital every few days and get some medicine injected that helps his kidneys work until they get a replacement for him.”

The sudden gravity of the situation fell on both Ryan and Ryiza. “So if he doesn't get to the hospital, what happens?”

“Well…” Amy sought for gentle words. While she knew her children to be intelligent and logical, even downright cocky in their knowledge most of the time, she also knew they were a bit naïve to the workings of the world - despite seeing the uglier side of it almost daily through their mother's work. “He'll get really, really sick.”

“He'll die,” Ryiza mumbled, and looked to her brother.

“When did he last go into the hospital?” Ryan immediately asked, any play at name-calling or leg punching forgotten.

“One day ago,” Amy replied matter-of-factly. “He's got two days before it starts getting dangerous.”

“So we have roughly forty-eight hours,” Ryiza rubbed at her cheek. “What else do we know? Friends? Anything about the family?”

“Teacher and friends say nothing was different about Terryl today. He's a pretty normal kid - a little rambunctious, but a good student. Has a father, mother, and older sister.” Amy turned back to her notes and flipped through them. “They hadn't noticed anything unusual in the past several weeks-“

“No vendettas? No household staff or security team members fired?” Ryiza fired away, going through the usual suspects first listed as possible abductors.

“Very good,” Amy chuckled. “The elder sister didn't trust her guard, so he was released from his job. Also, the mother and father are having marriage problems - the wife has had some questionable company of late.”

“Very little chance this is a random kidnapping by a stranger,” Ryan stated thoughtfully. “Stranger abductions make up about five percent of kidnappings. It's usually someone the kid knows.”

“Could Terryl have met someone at the museum and left with them?” Ryiza wondered.

Amy shook her head at her children, already pushing ahead in their own investigation. “They just pulled the tapes on the scene. Unfortunately, cameras were only positioned at the entrance hall, and wherever there was an emergency exit, which are rigged with alarms.”

Ryan groaned. “And the whole staff must have known who Terryl was, and would have noticed him leaving with anyone. After all, the guardian said that the museum agreed to have space between groups, which is unnatural for a museum like that where they count on moving a lot of people through at one time.”

“Correct,” Amy nodded, now merely a spectator as her two children sought to find a possibility.

Ryiza looked to her mother. “Can we see the tape?” she asked with big puppy dog eyes.

“It's with the lab. I don't have it.”

Ryan hopped down from his chair. “Let's go,” he announced, fetching his and Ryiza's jackets from the hallway pegs.

“And where are we going?” Amy asked with a raised eyebrow as they zipped up their jackets.

“To the lab, of course,” Ryiza replied.

Amy leaned on the counter, smirking slightly. “What makes you two think I'm taking you to the lab?”

“…because? You love us?”



An hour later, Ryan and Ryiza sat at their mother's desk, sharing the swivel chair with Ryan sitting on the seat and Ryiza balanced on the arm. Their attention was so intently set upon the screen in front of them, nothing short of an atom bomb could have distracted them.

“Why are all security monitors in black and white?” Ryiza asked.

“Because our eyes register movement better,” Ryan replied without much thought to the fact. He sighed and hit the rewind button on the remote. “Well…here is Terryl…” he hit play again. “Entering the building.”

Amid a group of classmates, Terryl didn't stand out that well. Ryan frowned as he paused the screen. Ryiza perked up. “What's up?”

“Something's wrong,” Ryan murmured, leaning in closer to the screen. Ryiza again looked to the screen, also frowning.

“Play it slowly,” she suggested, and Ryan complied. They watched the figures move stiffly, carefully taking note of every person. The class milled about while the teacher tried to instruct them on last minute pointers, the front desk clerks worked away at the phones and computers, and a minute or so later the guide approached. No one else entered the building until the guide led the class away.

Keeping his eyes on the monitor, Ryan leaned back. “So…our suspects…” Ryiza looked at the notebook they had copied from their mother's papers.

“Sister's guardian. They checked him out, has a solid alibi. He was with his wife and kids in Hawaii on vacation. Sister herself. Been arguing with Terryl lately.”

“Doubtful she could pull anything off though. She's the definition of blonde even though it's from a bottle,” Ryan chuckled to himself.

“Two of the wife's gentlemen friends that have visited lately…although she claims no relationship beyond friendship with either of them.” Ryiza plopped the notebook back to the desk. “Man number one - Mr. Richards. Drinking friend of the mother. Only real interaction he had with Terryl was at one of Terryl's baseball games. Man number two - Mr. Panera, personal trainer, who taught Terryl and his sister karate and their mother Yoga. Both have shaky alibis, currently checking them. Maybe he left the museum on his own?”

“Terryl is two years younger than us, Rii,” Ryan pointed out. “And the report said he's not on any of the monitors, nor did any personnel see him leave. Somebody would have noticed an eleven-year-old wandering around on his own.” Ryan stared at the screen and tapped the remote against his chin. “So he knew karate…” He paused the video when his and Ryiza's class entered.

“Ewww…Erika's picking her nose,” Ryiza pointed out.

“Oh gross!” Ryan leaned closer and played the tape slowly. “Ugh! And she put it in her mouth! In her mouth!” As Ryiza squealed her disgust, the door opened and Trent poked his head in.

“How's the two youngest squad members doing?” he asked sociably.

“Okaaay…” Ryan sighed. “We've got nothing.”

“Us either. But if you turn on that TV to channel eight, you'll see your mom making a press statement with Terryl's parents.” He pointed at the screen mounted in the corner, which Ryiza immediately located the remote for and turned to the appropriate channel.

“-has been missing for six hours now. Terryl may be in need of medical attention,” the Amy on TV explained. Behind her, the governor and his wife looked anxious, Terryl's mother already reduced to tears.

“Please,” Terryl's mother begged into the microphone, “Whatever you want, we'll do it. Just let Terryl come home, please.”

As she burst into sobs anew, Amy led the parents away to the tune of the reporters firing away questions about Terryl's abduction and if it had to do with his office and other such factors. The camera followed Terryl's mother, closing in on her face soaked in tears. Quickly, Ryan turned the television off.

“No mom should have to cry like that,” he mumbled, and turned back to the screen still frozen with their classmate's candid shot.

“Alright…so obviously, no one came out those doors with Terryl,” Ryiza sighed, turning back to the screen also as Ryan hit play.

“You two want some soda or snacks from the machine?” Trent asked.

“No thanks. We're working,” they chimed in close unison, and Trent shook his head at their serious manner.

“Alright…fast forward,” Ryiza instructed her brother. He obeyed, and they watched everyone run about like little ants until a flood of kid started to pass through the doors.

“This was when they gave the alert,” Ryan stated, slowing the tape down and playing it. “They cut it so they had all the tapes playing together…starting-“ the tape suddenly switched to four screens playing at once. “…then.”

“There's so many kids I can't even find us,” Ryiza moaned. “Great. We have nothing to go off of.”

“Not anymore,” Amy announced as she entered the room for a moment. “We think we found Terryl's backpack just now.” Ryan and Ryiza looked at each other, as Amy signaled the twins to follow her into another room in the lab. Ryan and Ryiza both obeyed, waiting outside on the other side of the glass wall as Amy entered to where an agent was carefully emptying the contents on the backpack onto the table.

A box of colored pencils, a two-pocket folder with characters from the movie Robots on the cover, and a reading book. Amy pulled on a pair of gloves, then extracted a piece of paper from the folder. She looked at it for a moment, before holding it up to the window and pointing to the name.

“Terryl Montz,” Ryiza solemnly read.

“Dude, he gets better grades in math than I did,” Ryan complained. “He wasn't carrying much.”

Then the agent opened the front pouch, and a weekly pill box was set on the table. Ryiza thought for a moment, before slowly stating, “The museum doesn't let bags inside. That's why we had to put our lunches in the boxes, remember?” Ryan recalled that being explained as an off-hand note before the trip. “Then he took the backpack to carry his pills?”

“What kid keeps pills in backpack?” Ryan asked.

“A sick one. With special privileges.”

“He could have put the day's worth into his pocket or something.”

The agent shook the pill box, and then popped open the compartments. “It's empty,” Ryan observed.

Ryan rapped his knuckles on the glass. Amy turned to look at her son, slightly annoyed. He pointed at the backpack, and mouthed, “Where?” to which his mother replied, “Museum.”

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