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“I have. They’re making quite a name for themselves in these parts. They saved one of our Special Agents and shut down the terrorist training camp she exposed.” Jenkins grinned. “She married Hank’s guy…Kujo, I think, is his name. Has a retired military working dog. Last I heard, he mated with a wolf.”
“Kujo?”
Jenkins rolled her eyes. “No. The dog.” She squinted, looking down her nose at him. “I guess you can’t be all bad if you’re going to work for Hank.” Her brow dipped. “From what I understand, he only hires former military, special operations types. Is that what you are?”
Cliff raised a hand. “Guilty. Navy SEAL. I’m going to work for the branch in West Yellowstone, not Eagle Rock.”
She nodded. “You wouldn’t think in a state with as low a population as Montana that we’d need so much help protecting our citizens. Then again, there’s a lot of territory to cover and not enough law enforcement personnel to go around.”
“Are you saying you want me to help you find that baby?”
“We should leave it to the local and state authorities to do their jobs.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “And you’re going to leave it to the local and state authorities?”
“Absolutely,” she answered. “Although, this abduction could fall into my ongoing investigation into the disappearances of young Native American women in this area. Pregnant young women.”
Cliff ran his gaze over Agent Jenkins. Her hair was dark enough, but her features and green eyes didn’t necessarily appear Native American. “Are you and your sister Native American?”
She snorted. “Not even close. Brittany is a strawberry-blonde with pale skin.”
“You two don’t look much alike.”
“The only thing we have in common is our mother’s green eyes,” she said. “I have my father’s black hair. We’re half-sisters. My mother remarried after my father died.”
Voices rose inside the security office.
Special Agent Jenkins and Cliff leaned in to find a man pointing at one of the screens. “There. Back that one up several seconds.”
The security guard manning the computer slowly backed the video to an earlier time. As he did, a figure in a gray hospital maintenance coverall and ball cap walked out onto what appeared to be a loading dock, pushing a large, rolling canvas basket into a waiting delivery truck.
Jenkins moved closer. “That could be the janitor I saw mopping on the labor and delivery floor when I went to see my sister and her baby.”
The man beside the security guard held out his hand. “Detective Schwope. You’re Special Agent Jenkins, our local FBI representative, aren’t you?”
Jenkins nodded. “I am. The baby taken was my sister’s.”
The detective’s lips pressed together. “I’m sorry this is happening to you both.” He turned back to the monitor. “Were you there when the attack occurred?”
“Unfortunately, no,” she said. “I went down to admissions, and when I came back, I saw the janitor go through the stairwell door as I got off the elevator. I thought nothing of it until my sister staggered out of her room, calling for help.”
“And that’s why you were running down the stairwell when I ran into you,” Cliff said quietly behind her.
Her fists clenched at her sides. “I didn’t run after him soon enough. I couldn’t leave my sister until a nurse came to help me with her.”
The detective sitting beside the security guard had the guard zoom in on the side of the truck until he could clearly read the company's name. He pulled out his cell phone and called a number. “Chief, have your guys on the streets look for an EZClean delivery truck, medium-sized, white with green lettering on the side.” He ended the call and slipped his cell phone into his shirt pocket.
“Who has access to the doors leading to the delivery dock?” Jenna asked the guard softly.
“Security and anyone with a maintenance badge,” the guard said, his fingers flying over the keyboard.
“Check the badges used on that door at that time,” Detective Schwope said.
“On it,” the guard said. A list popped up on the monitor directly in front of him. He scrolled down until he got to the time corresponding to the man loading the bin into the truck at the dock. He leaned forward and read the name aloud, “Robert Whitley.” He pulled up another screen. “He’s not even assigned to the night shift. He’s not due to come in until five thirty in the morning.”
“Any other maintenance personnel leave right before the hospital went on lockdown?” Jenkins asked.
The security guard returned to the list of cards scanned during that time and shook his head. “No maintenance staff, except for Whitley. But we had a shift change of nursing staff around that timeframe.”
