DPD Headquarters - Late Evening
The meeting room was dimly lit, the air heavy with frustration. Detectives sat around the table, files scattered across its surface, but nothing concrete had surfaced from their covert efforts.
Layla leaned forward, her tone decisive. "Alright, listen up. Since we've hit a wall working undercover, we're shifting gears. We're going full assault."
Zoey raised a brow. "You're thinking search warrants?"
Layla nodded firmly. "Exactly. I'll push this up to the higher-ups. We need a warrant ASAP to raid their offices before they get wind and destroy all evidence. This has to be swift."
Everyone nodded in agreement. The tension in the room dissipated slightly as they dispersed, each heading home to rest and prepare.
As the detectives filtered out, Zoey noticed Frank lingering by the exit. She approached, her curiosity piqued. "Aren't you heading home?"
Frank shook his head, hands in his pockets. "Nah. That place feels cramped. I was planning to check out new apartments today, but… you know, work happened."
Zoey tilted her head, surprised. "That's new. You've been fine living in that matchbox all this time. What's with the sudden change?"
Frank's gaze shifted, his voice thoughtful. "I guess... after the last incident, being that close to death, I realized I should stop living like I've got all the time in the world. Who knows what might happen tomorrow? Might as well start living properly."
Zoey gave him a small smile. "Not a bad philosophy. Alright then, enjoy your newfound zest for life. I'm heading home. Try not to overthink things."
Frank chuckled lightly. "Thanks, Zoey. See you tomorrow."
As she walked away, Frank set off down the street, his thoughts swirling. He found a small diner, ordered a modest dinner, and reflected on the case.
The Next Morning - Adoption Agency Reception
The bright morning sun contrasted sharply with the storm brewing inside the adoption agency's lobby. Frank stepped in, flanked by several DPD detectives, his expression unreadable but his presence commanding.
The receptionist, a sharply dressed woman in her 30s, stood up immediately. "I'm sorry, but you can't just barge in here—"
Frank cut her off, producing a folded piece of paper from his jacket and holding it up. "Warrant. We have the authority to search these premises. I need you to step aside."
Her face paled, and she hesitated before stepping back reluctantly.
Frank nodded to the detectives. "Alright, let's get to work. Secure the files, computers, hard drives—anything that could be evidence."
Detectives moved swiftly, heading to various offices, pulling cabinets open, and methodically transferring files and devices into evidence bags.
A middle-aged man in a crisp suit approached with measured steps. "Detective Miller," he said, his tone calm.
Frank turned to face him. "Mr. West. I assume you received our message?"
West replied calmly. "I did. I did… but I have to admit, I don't quite understand what's happening here."
Frank's tone was firm. "Neither do we. But what's clear is that at least one adoption brokered by your agency is fraudulent."
West blinked, "Fraudulent? That's hard to believe. If there was any misstep in a case, it had to have happened overseas. All the legal aspects on our end are handled by Ted Caldwell and his team. I trust them implicitly."
Frank held out the warrant. "This isn't a discussion, Mr. West. We're here to verify the facts."
West studied the document briefly before exhaling heavily. "Alright, Detective Miller. You're welcome to examine every record we have—warrant or not. But if there's an issue, I'd advise you to focus on our overseas partners. That's where things might've gone wrong."
Zoey, standing a few steps behind Frank, stepped forward, her tone steely. "We're already launching a broader investigation. Until it's complete, your agency is officially out of the adoption business."
"Understood," West replied without hesitation. "I've already instructed my staff to cooperate fully."
DPD - Conference Room
The team gathered around the conference table, stacks of files spread out before them.
Zoey placed a thick file down with a sharp motion. "Twenty-seven cases. That's how many adoptions this agency has processed in the last three years."
James leaned back in his chair. "Is that a lot?"
Zoey nodded firmly. "It's a lot. Especially when you're talking about adopting infants, which is never done internationally. But here's the kicker—" She picked up one of the files and flipped it open. "I've gone through every single case file, and I can't authenticate a single adoption."
Layla crossed her arms. "What do you mean by that?"
Zoey pulled out a specific file and tapped on it. "Take this one. A child supposedly born to a birth mother in Bratva. But when I cross-checked, I couldn't find any birth records. Nothing. It's like these kids just appeared out of thin air."
Layla's eyes narrowed. "They're clever. They're not leaving evidence we can directly disprove. Instead, they're creating a paper trail that leads to unverifiable claims."
"Exactly," Zoey agreed. "It's deliberate. They're relying on the fact that unverifiable claims are harder to dispute than outright lies."
Zoey nodded in agreement. "Exactly. It's not sloppy work; it's deliberate."
Layla leaned back in her chair, her voice firm. "We need to find the cracks in their system. Bring me hard evidence—something they can't explain away. Start by cross-referencing the children adopted through the Forever Home Agency with police records of missing kids. If even one matches, we'll have what we need."
Frank nodded. "Got it, Chief. I'll contact the federal agency and check their database. Many of their missing persons files have DNA on record."
Zoey added, "We should coordinate DNA testing for all the kids in these cases."
Layla gave a decisive nod. "Let's do it. Everyone, you know your assignments."
Zoey sat across from a woman and her young daughter, about five years old.
Zoey kept her tone gentle. "The DPD is investigating the Forever Home Agency. There have been some allegations, and we're looking into them."
Frank leaned in with a smile, holding up a swab. "That's why we're asking for a quick DNA sample—to confirm everything checks out. Say 'Ahhh.'"
The girl giggled and opened her mouth. Frank carefully collected the saliva sample. "Good girl! That's all done."
A different home
James spoke calmly to the parents of a young boy. "I understand this is hard. I have a son myself, and you're well within your rights to consult a lawyer." He held up a court order. "But we do have authorization to collect a DNA sample."
The parents exchanged hesitant glances but nodded. The boy opened his mouth, and James took the sample, reassuring them as he worked.
Another home
Layla crouched to the level of a little boy sitting on his mother's lap. "It's okay, sweetheart. This won't hurt, I promise."
The mother stroked her son's hair. "It's okay, honey. Just let the nice lady help."
The boy opened his mouth, and Layla swiftly took the sample. She smiled. "See? That wasn't so bad."
The mother hugged her son tightly. "That's my brave boy."
Detectives from DPD collected DNA samples from children in all the cases linked to the Forever Home Agency.
DPD Conference Room, the next day
The team sat around the table, the air heavy with disappointment.
Zoey tossed a folder onto the table. "We compared every DNA sample to the federal database of missing kids. Not a single match."
James rubbed his temples. "Twenty-seven children. All unaccounted for. Not one report of them missing. What now? We've got nothing to keep this investigation going."
"We can't just stop," Frank argued. "We know something is off with this agency."
Zoey frowned. "On what grounds? We're at a dead end, Frank. No leads, no evidence."
Ajay, who had been quiet until now, suddenly spoke up. "What if… these kids weren't reported missing?"
Zoey blinked. "Who wouldn't report a missing child?"
Frank's expression hardened. "People who won't—or can't—go to the police."
"Criminals?" James asked, unsure.
Frank's eyes lit up with determination. "Run the DNA again."
James hesitated. "What are we looking for this time?"
"Don't look for an exact match," Frank explained. "Look for relatives—any genetic connection."
James' face brightened with realization. "On it!" He grabbed his laptop and darted out of the room.
Layla watched him go, then turned to Frank. "That's a long shot."
Frank smirked. "Sometimes, Chief, long shots hit the mark."