Epilogue
By the time they emerged via the Rosser tomb, the grounds of the cemetery were crawling with FBI agents and police and rescue vehicles. Jackson was grateful to see them.
Of course, it seemed ironic to see the ambulances in the cemetery—where most were far beyond the scope of earthy assistance.
But Jon left Merissa Hatfield to be taken by another agent, making Annie Green his priority; and she was quickly rushed to one of the waiting ambulances.
Her husband would meet them at the hospital.
Her father’s ghost, waving and mouthing his thanks to all, crawled into the vehicle, giving one of the paramedics a bit of tremor.
Jackson insisted Angela go to the hospital, also. Her doctor was glad to come in and see to her; amazingly, she really was fine and not going into labor. The fetal heartbeat was strong and everything was good.
As they were both having a child and they both already had a son; he stepped back and let Adam and Jon and other Krewe agents work the case along with the police.
They’d planned for the 4th to be a tight occasion like the rest of the country, since Covid19 was a vicious enemy with little mercy. But Adam, Josh, Jon and Jon’s fiancée, Kylie Connelly, gathered at a picnic table on the roof of Krewe headquarters with Jackson, Angela, and Corby. Jon and Adam gave them the rundown of events as they awaited fireworks.
Annie Green had given birth on July 2nd, to a beautiful, healthy baby boy. Her husband—and her father—had been with her.
Police and agents had made their way through to the farmhouse and arrested a Doctor Samuel Walker and a nurse, Lettie Nelson, who had been awaiting the newest kidnap victims—and the births of their children.
Amazingly, it all had a happier ending than anyone might imagine.
The women who had previously been kidnapped so their infants might be sold were alive. They’d been held at an old warehouse south of D.C.—they’d been deemed ‘excellent breeders’ by the group that had been involved.
“But you found a man in the catacombs who had been dead maybe a few months,” Kylie said, looking at Jon. “Who was he? They kept the mothers alive—so did they kill the man you found—and who was he?”
“Ah, yes, we have the answer to that, too,” Jon told her, glancing at Adam.
Adam sighed, shaking his head. “His name was Jasper Griffin. He didn’t kidnap anyone and he didn’t sell the children. But he was part of transporting their victims to the farmhouse—the women weren’t all taken from the cemetery, but it was his job to get them into a mortuary vehicle and get them into the office. He was seen one day, struggling with a coffin himself, and when the man who saw him complained at the office, Charles Dearborn claimed he didn’t know the man but he’d look into the incident immediately.”
“But Dearborn would have looked into it himself, right?” Kylie asked, confused.
“The best we can figure,” Jon told them, was that Jasper got scared and wanted out—and they were afraid he would talk and the whole multi-million dollar business would have gone to hell and Dearborn and his associates would have gone to jail.” He smiled. “But, thankfully, they’ll all be facing more charges than I could begin to enumerate with a lawyer present. They’ll go away for a long, long time, possibly, life.”
Kylie shivered. “Hopefully life, with what they were doing! So, it was a bigger operation. The dead man was in on it—and others?”
Jackson took a deep breath and chimed in himself, explaining all to the best of his ability.
There had been four more arrests—members of the gang, those who had handled the business part of selling infants. The tangle created was being untied bit by bit; it was sad that those who had believed they were involved with legitimate adoptions were losing their precious bundles, but they understood the horror of what had been done to the mothers and fathers.
“And, hey! Corby helped us a few times—not just in the middle of our frantic search, but as we worked on the ‘tangle’ part of it!” Jon said, smiling at Corby.
Angela drew Corby into her arms. Jackson frowned; he’d known, of course, that Corby had gone with Adam and Josh on a few “untangle” visits, but he didn’t know his son had played a role.
Corby shrugged. “I told them older kids needed help desperately. That everyone wanted little babies, but that everyone needed to be loved.”
“And two of the couples are now looking into adopting older kids, kids with disabilities, and kids of any color!” Jon said.
“My son is both brilliant—and kind!” Angela said proudly. Then she gasped and gripped Corby’s arm hard and said, “Uh . . . wow! That hurt!”
Jackson, of course, jumped up. “Oh, my God! You’re in labor. The suitcase . . . um, yes, it’s in the car. Traffic . . . people might be in cars—”
“Jackson!” Jon chastised. “Angela is the best expecting mother ever—you are a basket case of an expecting father! She just had her first contraction.”
“Five minutes apart and we get to the hospital,” Angela said, smiling. “Let’s watch some fireworks!”
They saw a few; he sat there chaffing, trying to smile, trying to behave normally . . .
The others talked about the cemetery. It had been owned by a private company and the attorney and law enforcement believed that the actual owners had not known what was going on; they’d been delighted everything had run like clockwork under their managers, Merissa Hatfield and Charles Dearborn. Kylie Connelly was working as a docent and researcher at a museum Adam had purchased in D.C.; she’d been asked to compile all the research on the cemetery and clarify the truth. Adam was eager that she do so. The story, she thought, was really beautiful. The tunnels weren’t safe and they were the resting ground of many people; they would not be opened, but neither would they be filled in.
The tunnels would be
