Deadly Deception by Alexa Grace Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Alexa Grace
the agency about it?"
"I don't know. I woke up one morning and she was gone. She left her clothes and everything. I've got them boxed in the other room if you want to see them. A new roommate from the agency is moving in soon and I have to get rid of them."
Lane sifted through the few things Mandy Morris owned but found nothing of interest. As he left the apartment, he almost bumped into a pregnant girl with long, blonde hair tied back with a ribbon and about the same age as Mandy Morris. She was carrying a box and looked like she was moving in.
Lane went from apartment to apartment trying to get information about Mandy from her former neighbors.
A brown-haired woman answered the door at the next apartment. She looked like she was eighteen years old if a day. She was tall with a baby bump that barely showed.
Lane pulled out his badge and introduced himself. “I’m Detective Lane Hansen and I’d like to ask you some questions about Mandy Morris.”
“Why are you asking questions about Mandy?”
“I’m in charge of her homicide investigation.”
“Homicide? Mandy’s dead?”
Lane watched her carefully for her reaction. She reached out to grip the door knob as the shock of Mandy’s murder hit her full force.
“When did this happen?”
“Six weeks after she gave birth.”
“Oh my God. I am so sorry to hear this.” She sounded sincere enough.
“Did you know Mandy confided in a nurse at the hospital that she wanted to keep her baby?”
"Oh, no. That wouldn’t be permitted."
"Who wouldn’t permit it?" Permit it? Since when does a woman need permission to keep her baby?
The girl, wide-eyed from fear, slammed the door in his face leaving him surprised and even more curious than he was before he talked to her.
He took a new tactic with the next girl. "I'd like to ask you some questions about the Forever Home Adoption Agency." She had the same reaction as the first.
Again and again, each girl went from calm and friendly to frightened in seconds. What is it about this adoption agency that is causing such fear? And why won't anyone talk to him about it?
He watched the apartment house from his car until around midnight. During all that time, there was only one person he noticed that wasn't pregnant and that was the guy mowing the lawn. Every single person who entered or left the apartment house was in some stage of pregnancy. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize the adoption agency housed its pregnant girls here. It was almost like an incubator for adoptive babies. And if the girls got free rent, food, expenses and medical care, what did F.H.A.A. get? He wanted to know more about the adoption agency so he headed back to his hotel and his laptop.
The next day, Lane Hansen sat in his unmarked black SUV with tinted windows less than a block down the street from the adoption agency satellite office in Bloomington. He had a clear view and watched pregnant women go in and out for hours. He’d already checked out there was a clinic on the first floor and the agency offices were on the second.
A gleaming black Mercedes-Benz Roadster slipped into a parking spot near him and he watched a couple get out. The car probably cost more than his annual salary times three.
The couple, who were in their forties, held hands like teenagers on a date. The woman, a statuesque blonde, wore an expensive emerald green designer suit and matching pumps with four inch heels. She seemed happy and excited about something and didn't stop chattering to the man until they disappeared through the entrance of the building. Were they here to adopt a baby? Were they here to buy a baby? Those were the million dollar questions.
He input their license plate into his laptop and watched the loading icon until information danced across the screen. It appeared the
"I don't know. I woke up one morning and she was gone. She left her clothes and everything. I've got them boxed in the other room if you want to see them. A new roommate from the agency is moving in soon and I have to get rid of them."
Lane sifted through the few things Mandy Morris owned but found nothing of interest. As he left the apartment, he almost bumped into a pregnant girl with long, blonde hair tied back with a ribbon and about the same age as Mandy Morris. She was carrying a box and looked like she was moving in.
Lane went from apartment to apartment trying to get information about Mandy from her former neighbors.
A brown-haired woman answered the door at the next apartment. She looked like she was eighteen years old if a day. She was tall with a baby bump that barely showed.
Lane pulled out his badge and introduced himself. “I’m Detective Lane Hansen and I’d like to ask you some questions about Mandy Morris.”
“Why are you asking questions about Mandy?”
“I’m in charge of her homicide investigation.”
“Homicide? Mandy’s dead?”
Lane watched her carefully for her reaction. She reached out to grip the door knob as the shock of Mandy’s murder hit her full force.
“When did this happen?”
“Six weeks after she gave birth.”
“Oh my God. I am so sorry to hear this.” She sounded sincere enough.
“Did you know Mandy confided in a nurse at the hospital that she wanted to keep her baby?”
"Oh, no. That wouldn’t be permitted."
"Who wouldn’t permit it?" Permit it? Since when does a woman need permission to keep her baby?
The girl, wide-eyed from fear, slammed the door in his face leaving him surprised and even more curious than he was before he talked to her.
He took a new tactic with the next girl. "I'd like to ask you some questions about the Forever Home Adoption Agency." She had the same reaction as the first.
Again and again, each girl went from calm and friendly to frightened in seconds. What is it about this adoption agency that is causing such fear? And why won't anyone talk to him about it?
He watched the apartment house from his car until around midnight. During all that time, there was only one person he noticed that wasn't pregnant and that was the guy mowing the lawn. Every single person who entered or left the apartment house was in some stage of pregnancy. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize the adoption agency housed its pregnant girls here. It was almost like an incubator for adoptive babies. And if the girls got free rent, food, expenses and medical care, what did F.H.A.A. get? He wanted to know more about the adoption agency so he headed back to his hotel and his laptop.
The next day, Lane Hansen sat in his unmarked black SUV with tinted windows less than a block down the street from the adoption agency satellite office in Bloomington. He had a clear view and watched pregnant women go in and out for hours. He’d already checked out there was a clinic on the first floor and the agency offices were on the second.
A gleaming black Mercedes-Benz Roadster slipped into a parking spot near him and he watched a couple get out. The car probably cost more than his annual salary times three.
The couple, who were in their forties, held hands like teenagers on a date. The woman, a statuesque blonde, wore an expensive emerald green designer suit and matching pumps with four inch heels. She seemed happy and excited about something and didn't stop chattering to the man until they disappeared through the entrance of the building. Were they here to adopt a baby? Were they here to buy a baby? Those were the million dollar questions.
He input their license plate into his laptop and watched the loading icon until information danced across the screen. It appeared the
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