Came Home From Deployment Early. Daughter Was Standing in a Hole. «Don’t Look In Other One!»
He arrived at his house at 9 a.m. Brenda’s car was in the driveway. He sat for a moment, preparing himself. Then he walked in.
Brenda was in the kitchen, looking haggard. She hadn’t slept. When she saw him, she stood up quickly.
«Eric. Finally. The police won’t tell me anything. They took Mom. They’re saying she… but it’s ridiculous. You have to tell them. Where’s Emma?»
«I don’t know,» Eric said coldly. «I assumed she was with you.»
«Eric, what is going on? Why are you looking at me like that?»
«I’m trying to decide if my wife is stupid or evil.»
Brenda’s face went white. «What?»
«You sent our daughter to a woman who abuses children, who has murdered at least four kids that we know of. You drove her there on Tuesday and told Myrtle she needed to learn respect.»
«I didn’t… It’s not like that. Mom’s program is strict, but it works. She helps troubled kids.»
«Emma isn’t troubled!» Eric’s voice cracked like a whip. «She’s seven years old. She wouldn’t eat her vegetables. That’s not troubled. That’s normal.»
«She was getting out of control. Talking back, not listening. So I…»
«So you sent her to be buried alive in a hole in the ground?»
Brenda’s mouth opened and closed. «That’s not… Mom wouldn’t.»
«I pulled Emma out of that hole myself. It was 2 a.m. and 40 degrees. She’d been standing in mud and ice water for over an hour, crying, terrified. She told me not to look in the other hole.» Eric stopped, forcing himself to stay calm. «There was a dead kid in the other hole, Brenda. A nine-year-old girl named Sarah Chun. Her bones were still there.»
«No.» Brenda sat down hard. «No. That’s not possible. Mom said kids who run away from the program sometimes spread rumors.»
«But did you ever visit? Did you ever actually see what she was doing?»
Silence.
«Answer me.»
«I trusted her!» Brenda’s voice was rising. «She’s my mother. She said the program was tough, but effective. That sometimes kids lie to get out of it. I believed her.»
Eric stared at his wife. «When did you send Emma there?»
«Tuesday. I already told you.»
«Why Tuesday specifically?»
Brenda hesitated. «She was having a bad week. Refusing to do homework, making a mess, talking back. I was stressed with work, and I just… I couldn’t handle it. So I called Mom.»
«You couldn’t handle it. So you sent our daughter to an illegal detention camp.»
«It’s not a detention camp. She helps children.»
«Four dead kids say otherwise.» Eric pulled out his phone and showed her one of the photos from the graves.
Brenda looked at it and turned green. She ran to the sink and vomited. When she came back, wiping her mouth, her face was ashen.
«I didn’t know. Eric, I swear I didn’t know.»
«But you suspected something was wrong, didn’t you?»
«No. I…»
«Melody cut your mother off years ago. Said she was too harsh with kids. You kept Emma away from Myrtle most of the time. Why?»
Brenda’s hands were shaking. «Mom could be intense. I thought limited exposure was fine. That a few days at a time would teach Emma discipline without… without breaking her.»
The words came out as a whisper. Eric felt something inside him shatter.
«You knew she could break our daughter. You knew your mother was dangerous. And you sent Emma there anyway.»
«I thought I could control it. I told Mom to be gentle. To just scare her a little.»
«You can’t be a little bit evil, Brenda. You can’t abuse someone a little bit.» Eric was shouting now. «Emma is traumatized. She has hypothermia and bruises. And she doesn’t trust anyone. She asked if she has to see you again. And I didn’t know what to tell her because her own mother sent her to hell.»
Brenda was crying. «I didn’t mean for this to happen. I was just so tired. You were gone. And she was so difficult. And I thought…»
«You didn’t think. That’s the problem.» Eric’s voice went cold. «Pack your things. You’re moving out.»
«This is my house too.»
«I don’t care. You’re leaving. Today. And if you fight me on this, I will make sure everyone knows what you did. Your job. Your friends. Everyone. I will tell them that you sent your daughter to a woman who murdered children.»
«I have rights.»
«So did Emma. So did Sarah Chun and Marcus Wright and Tyler Brennan. They had the right not to be put in a grave.» Eric stepped closer. «Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to a lawyer. You’re going to agree to give me full custody. You’re going to stay away from Emma unless she asks to see you. And you’re going to cooperate completely with the FBI investigation into your mother.»
«The FBI?»
«Did you think this was just going to go away? Your mother murdered kids, Brenda. For money. Lots of money. And someone helped her cover it up. The FBI wants to know who. So you’re going to tell them everything you know about her business, her contacts, her finances. Everything.»
«I don’t know anything about—»
«Then you better start remembering. Because if you don’t cooperate, you’re going to be charged as an accessory.»
Brenda’s face crumpled. «I didn’t know, Eric. I swear on my life. I didn’t know she was killing children.»
«But you knew she was hurting them. And you didn’t care.»
Eric turned toward the door. «You have until tomorrow to move out. If you’re still here when I come back with Emma, I’m calling the cops.»
He left her there, crying in the kitchen of the house they’d bought together eight years ago—the house where they’d brought Emma home from the hospital. The house where he’d thought they were building a life. All of it was ash now.
Eric drove to meet Derek at a diner outside town. His friend was already there, laptop open, looking tired.
«You look like hell,» Derek said.
«Feel worse. What did you find?»
Derek pulled out a folder. «Herman Savage, Myrtle’s brother. He’s been a county judge for fifteen years. Handles juvenile cases, family court. Guess what happens when parents complain about Myrtle’s program?»
«Let me guess. Cases get dismissed.»
«Bingo. I found six complaints over the last five years. All of them went to Herman’s court. All dismissed as family disputes or unfounded allegations. Three of those kids are now missing.»
Eric’s hands clenched. «He knew.»
«Gets better. Christina Slaughter, the social worker? She’s Herman’s ex-wife. They divorced ten years ago, but I pulled their financial records. She’s been getting regular payments from an LLC called ‘New Beginnings Holdings.’ Guess who owns that LLC?»
«Herman and Myrtle.»
«50-50. The LLC has been collecting the fees from parents, laundering it through various accounts, then paying out to Myrtle, Herman, and Christina. We’re talking about three million dollars over five years.»
Eric sat back. «So Herman provides legal protection, Christina handles any state investigations, and Myrtle runs the operation.»
«That’s the theory. FBI’s building the case now. But Eric?» Derek’s expression turned serious. «There might be more people involved. I found payments to a consulting firm that doesn’t seem to exist. And there are gaps in the financial records. Money going out that we can’t track.»
«Who else could be involved?»
«Don’t know yet. But someone with enough pull to make sure no real investigations happened. Someone who could pressure local cops. Maybe even state police.»
Eric thought about that. «I need to talk to Don. See if he knows anyone who seemed too interested in shutting down questions about Myrtle.»
«Be careful. If there are dirty cops involved, you don’t know who to trust.»
«I trust Don.»
«Yeah, but does he trust everyone on his force?» Derek closed his laptop. «Eric, you need to let the FBI handle this. You’ve got Emma to think about.»
«I am thinking about Emma. I’m thinking about making sure everyone who hurt her pays. Everyone who enabled it. Everyone who turned a blind eye while kids died.» Eric met his friend’s gaze. «Would you walk away?»
Derek sighed. «No. But I’d be smart about it. And I’d watch my back.»
«That’s why I called you.»
They spent the next two hours going through documents. Eric was learning to read financial records the way he’d learned to read topographic maps in the army—looking for patterns, anomalies, anything that didn’t fit. And there were things that didn’t fit.
Large cash withdrawals from the LLC accounts every month. Always on the 15th. Always the same amount. $10,000. Going back three years.
«Protection money?» Eric suggested.
«Maybe. Or paying someone for something. Could be anything from bribes to blackmail.»
Eric’s phone rang. Donald.
«Talk to me,» Eric answered.
«We got something. Myrtle’s talking. Trying to cut a deal. She’s claiming she was coerced. That someone forced her to keep running the program even when she wanted to stop.»
«She’s lying.»
«Probably. But her lawyer’s saying she has evidence. Names of people who were involved. She wants immunity in exchange for testimony.»
«Don’t give it to her.»
«Not my call. That’s FBI and prosecutor’s office. But Eric… She mentioned Brenda.»
Eric closed his eyes. «What exactly did she say?»
«That Brenda helped recruit some of the families. That she’d identify kids who needed ‘correction’ and recommend the program to their parents. Myrtle’s claiming Brenda got a finder’s fee for each referral.»
The diner seemed to tilt. «How much?»
«$5,000 per kid.»
Eric disconnected and stared at his phone. Brenda had sent Emma to that place. But according to Myrtle, she’d also sent other people’s children. For money.
Derek was watching him. «What is it?»
«Brenda wasn’t just a victim of her mother’s manipulation. She was part of it.»
«Shit.»
«Yeah.» Eric stood up. «I need to go.»
«Where?»
«To have another conversation with my wife. And this time, she’s going to tell me the whole truth.»
He found Brenda at her sister’s house. Melody answered the door, her face hard.
«She’s in the kitchen. And Eric? Whatever you’re going to do, she deserves it.»
Brenda was sitting at Melody’s table with a cup of coffee. She looked up when Eric walked in, and her face went pale.
«I was just leaving,» she said.
«Sit down,» Eric commanded.
She sat. Melody stayed in the doorway, arms crossed. Eric leaned against the counter.
«The FBI talked to your mother. She’s trying to make a deal. Said you helped her recruit families. That you got $5,000 for every kid you sent her way. Is that true?»
Brenda’s silence was answer enough.
«How many?» Eric’s voice was deadly quiet.
«I don’t know. Maybe twenty. Over three years.»
«Twenty kids. You sent twenty kids to be abused. For money.»
«It wasn’t supposed to be abuse. Mom said it was a tough love program. That the kids needed discipline. The parents were desperate.»
«So you exploited desperate parents and traumatized their children for $100,000?»
Melody made a sound of disgust. «Brenda, what the hell is wrong with you?»
«You don’t understand. We needed the money. Eric was deployed. His salary wasn’t enough. And I had debt from before we got married.»
«We had enough!» Eric shouted. «We had a house. Food. Everything we needed. You’re telling me you sold kids for what? A new car? Vacations?»
Brenda was crying again. «I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think anyone would get hurt. Mom said it was safe.»
«Four kids are dead, Brenda. Four. How is that safe?» Eric was shaking with rage. «Did you know about the graves?»
«No! I swear, I didn’t know about that. When Mom told me about kids running away, I believed her. I thought they just left.»
«You thought troubled kids just wandered off into the mountains and their parents didn’t care? You didn’t think that was suspicious?»
Brenda had no answer.
Eric pulled out his phone. «The FBI is going to want to talk to you. The families you recruited are going to want answers. And I’m going to make sure every single person knows what you did.»
«Please.» Brenda reached for him. «Please, Eric. I made a mistake. I was stupid and greedy, and I’m so sorry. But I’m still Emma’s mother. I love her.»
«You sent her to an abuse camp. For $5,000.»
«No. I didn’t take money for Emma. She’s my daughter. I just thought…»
«You thought you could get away with it one more time. You thought she’d come back ‘scared straight,’ and you’d go back to sending other people’s kids for money.»
Eric stepped back from her outstretched hand. «Stay away from us. Both of us. Don’t call. Don’t text. Don’t try to see Emma. If I see you anywhere near her, I will have you arrested.»
«You can’t keep me from my daughter.»
«Watch me. You’re about to be charged with child endangerment, conspiracy, and probably trafficking. By the time this is over, you’ll be lucky if you’re not in prison. The only thing keeping you out right now is that you’re cooperating with the FBI.»
Eric headed for the door. «Melody, thank you for being honest. I’m sorry your family is imploding.»
«I’m sorry I didn’t see this coming,» Melody said quietly. «I should have pushed harder. Stayed in contact with Mom. Maybe I could have…»
«This isn’t on you. Don’t blame yourself for other people’s evil.»
As Eric drove away, his phone rang. Unknown number.
«Eric McKenzie?»
«Yeah.»
«This is Agent Frank Morrison, FBI. I need you to come in for an interview. Today if possible.»
«I can be there in twenty minutes.»
«Good. And Mr. McKenzie? Bring your lawyer. We’re going to be talking about some serious charges.»
Eric’s hand tightened on the wheel. «Against whom?»
«Everyone. We’re building a RICO case. Racketeering, conspiracy, child trafficking, murder. This is bigger than your mother-in-law. We’re going after everyone involved.»
«Good.»
«I should warn you. Your wife is a target. We believe she was complicit in recruiting children for the program. If she cooperates, we might be able to reduce charges. But she’s looking at prison time.»
«I don’t care what happens to her. Just make sure you get everyone.»
«We will. But Mr. McKenzie? Watch your back. The people involved in this have money and connections. They’re not going to go down easy.»
After hanging up, Eric made one more call. To a lawyer friend from his unit who now worked at a big firm in Philadelphia. Tony Pena.
«Tony, it’s Eric McKenzie. I need help. I need the best family lawyer you know, and I need someone who can handle a federal case.»
«What kind of federal case?»
«Child trafficking, racketeering, murder. And I need to make sure I get custody of my daughter.»
«Jesus, Eric. What happened?»
«How much time do you have?»
«For you? All the time in the world.»
«Start talking.»
As Eric laid out the whole nightmare, he felt something shifting inside him. The rage was still there, burning hot and pure. But underneath it was something colder. Something calculating. The army had taught him how to fight. How to plan. How to execute complex operations against entrenched enemies. He’d led missions in some of the most hostile territory on earth.
And now he was going to use every skill he had to destroy the people who had hurt his daughter. Not just Myrtle. Not just Brenda. Everyone. Every person who’d turned a blind eye, taken a bribe, enabled the abuse and murder of children.
They thought they were safe because they had money and connections. Because they’d gotten away with it for years. They were wrong. Eric McKenzie was coming for them. And he didn’t lose.
The FBI office was cold and sterile, all fluorescent lights and beige walls. Eric sat across from Agent Morrison and another agent, a woman named Chun. Appropriate name, given what he’d found.
«I’m Agent Sarah Chun,» she said, as if reading his mind. «Sarah was my niece.»
Eric’s expression didn’t change, but inside, he felt a sharp pang of sympathy. «I’m sorry for your loss.»
«Thank you. I want you to know this is personal for me. I’m going to make sure everyone responsible pays.» Her eyes were hard as diamonds. «Starting with Myrtle Savage.»
Morrison pulled out a recorder. «Mr. McKenzie, we need to get your statement on record. Walk us through everything that happened from the moment you arrived home.»
Eric did. Every detail. Finding Emma in the hole. The other graves. Brenda’s confession about sending her there. The evidence of financial payments. He held nothing back.
When he finished, Morrison leaned back. «Your wife claims she didn’t know about the deaths. Do you believe her?»
«I don’t know. Maybe she was willfully ignorant. But she knew kids were being hurt. And she kept sending them anyway. For money.»
«Yeah.» Agent Chun spoke up. «We’ve identified seventeen families that your wife referred to Myrtle’s program. Of those seventeen children, three are dead. Four are still missing. The others, we’re interviewing them now. The stories are consistent: extreme physical punishment, food deprivation, psychological abuse. One kid was kept in a hole for three days.»
Eric felt sick. «Where are the families now?»
«We’re tracking them down. Most thought their kids were at a legitimate boarding school. Some knew it was harsh, but thought that’s what their kids needed. A few…» Morrison paused. «A few seem to have known exactly what was happening and didn’t care.»
«What happens to them?»
«Depends on what we can prove. Child endangerment at minimum. If we can show they knew kids were dying and sent their own anyway, we’re looking at conspiracy to commit murder.»
«And Brenda?»
«Your wife is cooperating. She’s given us names, details about the financial setup, information about Herman Savage’s involvement. In exchange, we’re recommending reduced charges. But she’s still looking at five to ten years.»
Eric nodded. He felt nothing about that. No satisfaction, no regret. Just emptiness where his marriage used to be.
«What about Herman?» he asked.
Morrison’s jaw tightened. «That’s where it gets complicated. Herman Savage is a sitting judge with a lot of friends. We need an airtight case before we move on him. We’re building it, but it takes time.»
«How much time?»
«Weeks. Maybe months.»
«Kids died while you’re building your case.»
«I know that,» Morrison’s frustration broke through. «But if we move too fast and he walks on a technicality, he gets away with it forever.»
«I won’t let that happen.»
Agent Chun put a hand on Morrison’s arm, calming him. Then she looked at Eric. «We will get him. I promise you. But we have to do this right.»
«What can I do?»
«Nothing. Stay out of it. Focus on your daughter. Let us handle the investigation.»
Eric didn’t respond to that. He had no intention of staying out of it.
After the interview, he met with Tony Pena and the family lawyer Tony had recommended, a sharp woman named Margaret Vance. They sat in a conference room and strategized.
«The good news is you’ll get custody,» Margaret said. «With Brenda facing criminal charges and admitting to child endangerment, no judge will give her custody. The question is whether she gets visitation.»
«Emma doesn’t want to see her.»
«Emma’s preference will matter, but she’s seven. The court might order supervised visitation anyway.»
«Over my dead body.»
«Eric,» Tony’s voice was gentle but firm. «Let Margaret handle the legal strategy. If you push too hard, it could backfire.»
«Brenda sent our daughter to be abused. For money. There’s no scenario where she deserves to see Emma.»
«I agree,» Margaret said. «And that’s the argument we’ll make. But we have to follow the process. File for divorce. File for custody. Document everything. Build a case that’s so overwhelming no judge can rule against us.»
«How long?»
«The divorce will take months. Custody might be faster given the circumstances. I’ll file emergency motions tomorrow.»
«Do it.»
After they left, Eric sat in his truck, thinking. The FBI was building their case. His lawyers were building theirs. Everyone was following the process, playing by the rules.
