months.”
She nodded. “When I’ve spoken with my family, they’ve mentioned from time to time some of the, uh, setbacks the organization has experienced over the past year, yes,” she said. “I know there was an attempted kidnapping of an infant adopted by one of their clients—mostly because my brother David was involved and will soon be that child’s father,” she added with a smile, still feeling strangely warm and fuzzy about the prospect of becoming an aunt so many times over so quickly. “And I know about a successful kidnapping of another infant that’s still under investigation.”
“Yes, it is,” Pennington said. “What’s not been made public, though, is that we have reason to believe both the attempted and successful kidnappings may be linked to some other kidnappings that have occurred in the city over the past year.”
“I didn’t know about the possible connection,” she told Pennington. But she said nothing more, because she could tell by his expression that he wasn’t finished yet.
“And what’s also not been made public,” he continued, “is that there was a mix-up not long ago at the Children’s Connection clinic with some, uh, sperm,” he concluded in a matter-of-fact voice, even though that last wasn’t a word Bridget normally heard spoken in her profession. “And we have reason to believe it was done deliberately. Currently we aren’t sure why, or if it’s the same person or persons responsible for the kidnappings. But we suspect the actions are all connected.”
She nodded again, professional enough to pretend she hadn’t noticed Pennington’s stumble over the word sperm. Or even his use of the word sperm, which was even more admirable on her part, if she did say so herself.
Pennington went on. “As a result of all these incidents—and this is something else you may not know, the FBI has become involved in a criminal investigation, the focus of which is Children’s Connection.”
“No, sir, I didn’t know that,” Bridget said, surprised by the revelation. “No one has mentioned it to me. Are my parents and Jillian aware of it? Are they part of it?” Surely neither of them could be suspected of any wrongdoing, she thought.
“They’re aware of it now. We tried to keep a lid on it for as long as we could. And, no, although we’ve questioned both of them, it was only routine. None of them has ever been suspected of being a part of this. But a nurse who works for the hospital affiliated with Children’s Connection—a Nancy Allen—went to the police back in January with her suspicions that a black-market baby ring might be operating somewhere within the organization,” Pennington said.
“A black-market baby ring?” Bridget echoed dubiously. “Sounds like a bad movie of the week.”
“I wish it was,” Pennington told her, smiling a little uncomfortably.
Poor guy, Bridget thought. First, he’d had to say the word sperm in the line of duty, and now the words black-market baby ring. Not the best day, she suspected, for Agent Pennington.
“At first,” he continued on valiantly, “the local authorities were less than convinced of the woman’s story.”
They were probably even less convinced of the woman’s sanity, Bridget thought.
“But the woman was insistent, so they pursued the charge, if for no other reason than to be able to prove to her that nothing was amiss. Unfortunately, their investigation led them to conclude that there could indeed be criminal activity occurring at Children’s Connection. The police notified the FBI when they realized there were potential interstate and even international violations.”
“The attempted kidnapping in Russia,” Bridget guessed.
Pennington nodded. “We think there may actually be a Russian pipeline of sorts. Perhaps pipelines from several countries. Someone who’s providing infants to a contact at Children’s Connection. That person then offers the children up for sale to couples who are on the Connection’s waiting list. Or perhaps to people who were turned down as prospective parents. And we fear those foreign infants may be being acquired illegally. At this point, we still don’t know a lot. But there have been more developments since that first report that have convinced us there is indeed criminal activity going on within the organization. There’s even evidence that someone stole some fertilized eggs and has been selling them illegally on the Internet.”
Bridget marveled at the deeds some people would commit, all for money, no doubt, she guessed.
“We suspect that all of these crimes are related,” Pennington continued, “and we’re reasonably certain that there’s more than one person involved. We just don’t know who the people are, or what division of the organization they work in. Realistically, they could be anywhere.”
“And that’s why I’m here,” Bridget guessed. “A combination of my FBI training and my connection to Children’s Connection, however superficial.”
“That connection is about to become less superficial,” Pennington told her. “We need you to go undercover with another agent, posing as a married couple who are looking to adopt a child. But because you’re not exactly a stranger to anyone at Children’s Connection—or, at least, your family isn’t—you’ll essentially be posing as yourself. Bridget Logan. Daughter of Terrence and Leslie Logan. But you won’t be an agent for the FBI. Your parents have assured us that no one at the organization knows you work for the Bureau.”
“That’s true, as far as I know,” Bridget said. “I’ve never been active in my parents’ avocation, and I don’t really know anyone who works there, except my sister. I don’t think I’ve even visited the place for more than a decade, probably. Still, I don’t know for certain that no one in my family has ever mentioned my job to anyone there.”
“They all assure us they’ve never discussed you with anyone. Which means you’ll be completely credible as someone seeking to adopt through the organization. Up to this point, the investigation hasn’t been a secret, and the agent assigned to it has questioned a number of people who work at Children’s Connection in one capacity or another. So far, we don’t have any suspects, in spite of our evidence to suggest criminal activity.”
It really did sound like a bad movie of the week, Bridget couldn’t help thinking. She couldn’t believe anyone involved in her parents’ pet project would be involved in things like black-market babies and sperm-swapping and stolen eggs. But the FBI didn’t go around investigating crimes because it was fun and they had nothing better to do with their time, and they sure as hell didn’t make up stuff like this. If they were looking into the matter, it was because they had solid evidence to suggest wrongdoing.
“At any rate,” Pennington continued, “whoever it is working illegally at Children’s Connection almost certainly knows about the investigation. In spite of that, we’ve already got two of our Portland agents undercover there, posing as prospective adoptive parents in the hope that our baby seller might approach them with an infant for sale.”
Bridget nodded. That made sense. Even with the investigation no secret, there was a good chance two agents might still be credible as an anxious couple looking to adopt, and they might still lure the bad guy. That didn’t explain her own presence back in town, though.
“So why am I here?” she asked Pennington.
“As I said, Logan, you’re going to be posing with an agent, too, in the same capacity—as prospective adoptive parents. But we’re hoping that you and he will simply be able to move about Children’s Connection and uncover more information
