“So, the way I understand it, your niece was adopted through the agency when she was four and, within a month, this Duane Lee Savitt character walked into the adoption place, shot three employees, and set their offices on fire. Is that about right?”
George nodded. He stood by Professor Lori Kim’s desk and watched her load her briefcase with books and papers. Her Family and Juvenile Law class had just let out, and the classroom was empty except for the two of them. Lori Kim was a stout Asian woman in her late thirties. She had a few gray streaks in her close-cropped hair and wore designer glasses with her dark-blue power suit. Lori’s brisk, no-nonsense manner was occasionally punctuated by a sweet, disarming smile. George had called a few friends at the university, and had heard Professor Kim had a background in law enforcement as well as child psychology.
“I’m wondering if there’s a connection between this girl and the shootings at the adoption agency,” George explained. “I heard you know something about adoption laws. Do you think Savitt might have gone to the agency, trying to track down the child? At the same time, he torched the place, so I’m wondering if he wanted to destroy records that might link him with one particular child.”
“That one particular child being your niece?” Lori Kim asked.
“It’s a stretch, yes. But she does have vague memories of an Uncle Duane. “
Professor Kim zipped up her briefcase. “Do you mind if we walk and talk? I have a dental appointment at two-fifteen, and my car’s parked on the other side of the campus.”
“Not at all,” George replied. “In fact, I’ll even carry your briefcase for you. I was hoping to get some information on my niece’s biological parents, but-”
“Oh, that won’t be easy,” she cut in. She unloaded the briefcase on him, and it was damn heavy. “Those records are closed in Washington State.”
George had already found that out the hard way. He’d been on the phone for two hours this morning with several government agencies, talking to a lot of apathetic, curt, and often rude clerks who had told him the same thing: the information he wanted was “confidential…unavailable…restricted.” Finally, he’d given up and started phoning people, asking if there was a professor who knew a lot about adoption procedures. He hoped against hope that Lori Kim might know a way for him to get past all the legal stumbling blocks.
Lugging the briefcase, he walked down the corridor with her on the law school’s second floor. She moved at a brisk clip. “If your niece remembers an Uncle Duane before she was adopted by your in-laws, it means she had to be at least three or four years old before she lost her parents-or they gave her up. It’s unusual that she’d end up adopted through an agency. She should have gone through the foster care system.”
“She did spend time in some foster homes before my in-laws took her,” George said. They ducked into the stairwell and started down the steps. “I was still dating Amelia’s aunt when Amelia’s parents were going through the adoption process. They lived in Spokane at the time. But I know they had a lot of visits back and forth, and a trial period.”
“That’s how they do it in foster care. Maybe the adoption agency was involved for some other reason.” Professor Kim stopped at the bottom of the steps. “You said your niece spent time in other foster homes. Did the child have any problems or disorders?”
He nodded. “She had frequent nightmares, and she got these phantom pains and illnesses. She practically drove her parents nuts. But that didn’t start up until after the adoption went through. By then my in-laws had moved to Bellingham and had a baby boy of their own. We figured Amelia was just vying for their attention.”
Lori Kim frowned. “Then again, maybe those nightmares and phantom pains were what got the child bounced out of one foster home and into the next. Might even be why her real parents gave up on her. Children learn very quickly. Your niece might have been on her best behavior with your in-laws during that trial period. When she saw her baby brother cried without getting the boot, she might have figured it was safe to let her pain and fear be heard.”
They stepped outside into the sun and a cool autumn breeze. This section of the campus was graced with stately old buildings and magnificent trees with their leaves changing. The grounds were bathed in a riot of fall colors. Classes were in session, so there wasn’t the usual mob scene. Only a few students and teachers lingered about.
“Of course, I’m just speculating,” Professor Kim continued, as they walked along a paved pathway across the leaf-scattered lawn. “Once in a while, if the foster system has problems placing a child, they may turn to an adoption agency for assistance. It’s possible that’s what happened with your niece.”
“I always assumed Amelia’s biological parents were dead,” George remarked. “But you mentioned they might have just given her up. Do you think they could still be alive?”
“Anything’s possible,” Lori Kim replied. “If you want me to come up with a potential reason for why this Duane Lee Savitt did what he did, I can give you about a dozen different scenarios.”
“Give me your best one.”
“Well, since there weren’t any state, city, or county records connecting Savitt with the adoption agency, I’d say he wasn’t the child’s legal father. But there’s a chance he was the birth father. The mother could have lied about it on the birth certificate and transfer papers. Savitt may have also been your niece’s natural uncle, just as she remembers. But once again, they didn’t come across his name in any records, which means he was most likely a family friend or possibly a blood uncle on the mother’s side, and she was married. The maiden names aren’t always flagged on those records.”
George nodded. “Savitt had a sister named Joy who died just a few weeks before he went berserk at the adoption agency.”
Lori Kim stopped abruptly. “It’s strange that Savitt waited until the mother died before he tried to track down the child.”
“Well, maybe he tried to get custody after his sister died-”
“There would be a record of that,” she argued. “You said Savitt shot up the adoption place less than a month after your niece was officially adopted. But under the foster care system, it’s a gradual process toward the final adoption. And you said your niece had some false starts in other foster homes. So she had to be in foster care for at least three months, which means the mother was still alive, and therefore gave up the child. Maybe she was too sick to take care of her at the time. One thing for sure, she didn’t want her brother to have the girl or she would have given him custody. So, obviously, Savitt waited until his sister was dead before he went searching for his niece. And when he came to the agency, looking for her-”
“They couldn’t tell him where she’d gone, because those adoption records are closed,” George finished for her. “So, Uncle Duane went crazy.”
“Well, I don’t quite agree with you on that,” she said, resuming her quick gait along the path. “I doubt he’d armed himself for his first trip to that agency. He probably went there once to make inquiries, became frustrated, and then returned with his arsenal.”
George got winded carrying the heavy briefcase and trying to keep up with her. “You know, it’s weird the police couldn’t figure this out.”
“Well, they couldn’t connect him to anyone at that agency. But you have-if you’re right about him being this girl’s uncle. And so far, we’re just hypothesizing.”
“Why do you think he burned the place down?”
“Did any of those articles you read say if he used hollow-point bullets to shoot those people?”
“Yeah. How did you know-”
“Hollow-points are the bullets of choice for most mass murderers. Only God knows what other function they serve. Hunters don’t use them. Hollow-points inflict the most damage. And that’s probably why Duane Savitt set fire to the place, to inflict the most damage.”
“You don’t think he was trying to destroy some records?”
“It’s possible. But if he was really related to your niece, those same records would be in the foster care system, and he should have known that. Then again, you’re trying to figure out the logic of some asshole who took it upon himself to shoot three people who never did a single thing to hurt him. I hope I never comprehend the way someone like that thinks.”
“If those records exist in the foster care system, how can I get to them?” George pressed. “You must know some way.”
“Get your lawyer, get your niece, and file a petition.”
