Simone contacted me 8 months ago, she said. I helped verify two of the altered records. Zuri's voice hardened. Why didn't you tell us? Because I did not know who had reopened the channel.
Peter looked at her police radio. And yet every message reached Zuri only after you learned what she needed. Officer Mercer stepped between Hayes and the twins. Hayes slowly removed her radio and placed it on a seat. Search it.
Mercer checked the device history. No messages had been sent through it. Zuri reoped the video. A second locked file had appeared after the recovery code succeeded. It showed their mother seated in a small office.
If this message opens, Simone said the replica bracelet and the transmitter have been brought together. Clare Voss may have placed the bracelet, but she is not controlling what happens next. Clare stared at the screen. Simone continued, "The person behind me is officer Mara Hayes. She knows why Case 417 exists." A police officer stood in the blurred background wearing Hayes's name badge.
Hayes stepped closer. That isn't me. Zuri paused the recording. The blurred officer wore the same watch as Hayes. Same black strap.
Same cracked corner on the display. Officer Mercer noticed it, too. You were there. Hayes looked at the watch on her wrist. Yes, but Simone recorded that message because she trusted me.
Then prove it, Zuri said. Before Hayes could answer, every first class screen activated. A list of 11 children appeared. Dr. Lane's nephew was number four. Zuri and Nia were numbers 10 and 11.
A timer beside each earlier name showed how long that child had remained unaccounted for. Beside the twins, both timers read zero. Then flight 218 descended low enough to connect with Kansas City's ground network. The timers started 0001 0002 00003. Captain Cole came over the interphone.
Two verified child welfare officers are waiting at the gate. Their court order requires Zuri and Nia to be separated immediately. Officer Mercer received their identification photographs. One showed the woman with the crescent-shaped mark, the same stranger who had opened Mr. Buttons in Baltimore. The second showed Peter Veil.
Peter stared at his own photograph. That man isn't me. The face was his. The identification number was his. Even the broken card in his hand matched the credential awaiting them on the ground.
But the photograph had been taken inside Kansas City airport less than 2 minutes earlier. Someone wearing Peter's identity was already waiting to take one of the twins. The timers beside the twins names reached 40 seconds. Flight 218 had not touched the runway, yet the system already counted Zuri and Nia as missing. Officer Mercer enlarged the photograph taken in Kansas City.
The man waiting at the gate had Peter's face, but something was wrong around his left ear. The skin was too smooth. He's wearing a mask, Zuri said. Peter examined the image and carrying a duplicate of my airport identification. Officer Hayes contacted Kansas City Airport police through the flight deck.
She told them to detain both child welfare representatives without approaching the aircraft. The response came 30 seconds later. Their credentials are verified. The ground supervisor said, "We have a court order requiring immediate transfer. The order carries a dead woman's forged signature.
The state database shows it as active. Then call the judge named on it." A pause followed. The order does not list a judge. Hayes looked at Mercer. An official custody order without a judge should never have passed the first review.