“I—I called the infant Elizabeth. She was left under the statue of Saint Elizabeth, and it seemed fitting. No child should be born without a name. The locket had been left with the baby. Wait a moment.” He rose, left the room, and came back a few minutes later. “Siobhan gave me this flyer. She’d sent it to many churches in Texas, New Mexico, and south of the border. I hadn’t seen it, but this is the locket that was with the baby, and the photo that was inside.”
Lucy looked at the flyer. A photo of two young girls with a tall, curly redhead that had to be Siobhan was at the top; at the bottom was a photo of a locket with a Celtic cross.
MISSING GIRLS
Marisol & Ana de la Rosa
Now 18 and 17
Disappeared after work from Monterrey, Mexico
Possibly in southern or western Texas
Marisol is fluent in Spanish, English, and French; she has an oblong birthmark on her right forearm. She’s approximately five foot four, with black hair and hazel eyes.
Ana is deaf in her right ear. She is approximately five foot five, black hair and hazel eyes.
Both girls are devout Catholics and if in trouble, may seek help from a church, priest, or nun. Both girls wear a unique sterling-silver locket with a Celtic trinity circle on one side and a cross on the other. Inside the locket is this photo plus a photo of their parents, who died in a mudslide six years ago. They went to work in Monterrey to earn money to help rebuild the village and disappeared seven months later.
Call Siobhan Walsh, Sisters of Mercy, with any information. Can remain anonymous. $1,000 reward for verified information.
“You called Ms. Walsh because of the number on the back of the photo in the locket and she came?”
“Yes, I called her late Thursday, after we returned from the hospital, and she was here Friday night. I met her at the hospital; she wanted to see the baby. She is staying in Laredo, but has been here each day. Yesterday I told Siobhan about what Mrs. Hernandez said, and she went to talk to her.”
“You didn’t go?”
“She said she wanted to do it alone. She called, said if she didn’t call me again after an hour, for me to call Mr. Stockton and gave me a number.”
Noah was taking notes. “Just to make sure I understand correctly: You found the baby early Thursday morning. You took the baby to the hospital in Laredo, which is nearly an hour away. Then you returned, contacted Siobhan Walsh because of the number on the locket. She came immediately.”
“Yes. These girls”—he tapped the flyer—“Marisol and Ana. They are her friends, she’s very concerned about them. No one has heard from them in over two years. Siobhan said this is her best lead. That one of these girls left the baby, the locket, her number.”
“So you don’t have any pregnant women in the parish who may have left the baby?”
He shook his head sadly. “This is a small, old parish. There’s a new community being built in town, and we’re getting younger families, but most of my parishioners are older. We have one girl who’s pregnant, but she is a longtime parishioner. I baptized her, married her ten years ago, this is her second baby. I know her, her husband, her parents, his parents—and as far as I know, she hasn’t had the baby. She told me she’s due in November, wanted to make sure I would still be here to baptize the child.”
He sighed. “That will likely be my last. I move to Tucson, to retire, in January.”
Noah stood. “Thank you for your time. I appreciate your help, and we may call with additional questions.”
“Anything I can do to help, Agent Armstrong, anything.”
Lucy and Noah left.
“Thoughts?” Noah asked.
Lucy had many, but they were still forming. “We should talk to the doctor, the police in Laredo, find out what they know.”
“Agreed. Let’s find out what Ms. Walsh has to tell us and see if we can keep her out of jail.”
CHAPTER FOUR
This wasn’t the first time Siobhan had spent a night behind bars. It could have been much worse—like the time she’d been “detained” in Chiapas. Or when she’d been arrested for trespassing in Brazil … though the guards there had been extremely polite. But she’d hardly slept last night out of worry and frustration. Worry about that young woman in the house … worry about Marisol and Ana and the baby. Frustration about, well, everything. She didn’t trust the police in this small town, so she kept her mouth shut and waited for her arraignment. They’d assigned her a public defender, whom she also didn’t trust—not because she thought he was working for whatever organization had been keeping those women, but because he didn’t even look old enough to be out of high school, let alone possess a law degree.
They would arraign her, she’d post bail (though she was loath to call her sister, she didn’t have enough money in her pitiful savings account), and then she’d deal with the fallout. She might be prevented from leaving the country until the charges were dropped or she paid a fine, but at this point she believed that Marisol and Ana were in the United States and she didn’t plan on going anywhere until she found them.
She just wished she had more information. Why had one of them—or both of them—left the baby? Where were they now? Why did they leave her phone number with the priest instead of calling her themselves?