I'm a cop and I found a secret train station (Part 3)

Part 2
Tim explained to me that after he got the address of the house Tiffany went to, he ran it through CLEAN (the PA police database system) and ultimately was able to figure out that the guy who lived there was Jack Hogan, an FBI agent. Jack was apparently 35 years old, although his silver hair made him look older.
“You think Tiffany’s dad knows about this little affair?†I asked.
“God, I hope not. What sane man would let his teenaged daughter date someone nearly twice her age? I mean sure, it’s legal here in PA for a 17-year-old to do whatever she wants but there are some states where that would still be considered statutory rape.â€
“Wow, look who knows his criminal code!â€
Tim rolled his eyes at me and laughed. “I’m not as dumb as I look,†he teased.
“So, what are you thinking for next steps?â€
“You seemed to get some good info from Mrs. Akers in your last interview… how about we try to get Mr. Akers in here?â€
“I’m game.â€
And just like that, Tim and I got ahold of Mr. Akers and asked him to come into the station.
Mr. Akers sat across from us in the interview room and for the first time, I got to really study him. He didn’t look as old as I expected a retired agent to look.
I took the reins. “Your wife told us you recently retired from the FBI. Congrats on retirement. My dad didn’t know what to do with himself when he retired. You doing anything to keep busy?â€
Mr. Akers sighed and sat back in his chair. “My wife convinced me to start golfing. I hate golfing.†He shrugged and let out a sad laugh.
“Sounds like you’re not really enjoying retirement.â€
“I don’t know how to be retired.â€
It’s sad. That seems to be the case with most cops. And unlike some people, I treat feds the same way I treat street cops. Most of them started on the street and they have the same hear that street cops do- they want to make a difference and save lives, and they’re willing to risk their own lives to do so.
Mr. Akers continued, “You know, I really didn’t even want to retire. The Bureau voluntold me to retire as soon as I turned 50.â€
I intended to use his FBI history as a segway to ask him about Jack Hogan, but Mr. Akers seemed to be taking my questioning down a different path and I didn’t want to stop him. You never know where useful information can be tucked away in emotional rants. I asked, “Why would they make you retire at 50? When did you want to retire?â€
“My plan was to max out at age 57. But I got pretty deep in a case that didn’t sit right with some of the uppers.â€
“Is it a case you’re allowed to talk about?â€
He shrugged his shoulders again. “What are they gonna do, fire me? We had people disappearing from all over and they only connection we had was this town. They would either have cellphones randomly pinged here, they were visiting here, or they had a connection here, but there was always a connection to this town.
My head bobbed back like a chicken. “Like human trafficking? Here?!â€
“No. This was men, women, old, young. We don’t know what the hell was going on, but we knew this was the link.
“So what happened with you working that case?â€
“Well, the deeper I dug, the more it looked like we had a mole in the Bureau. My theory didn’t take well to my superiors, but they couldn’t fire me over it. Instead, they forced me into retirement.â€
“What do you think the connection was?â€
“This was a central hub. But the roadways made no sense. No main highways go through here so I couldn’t figure out what the attraction was.â€
I looked at Tim. Then back to Mr. Akers. “Like a train station?â€
Mr. Akers eyes got large and he tapped his nose. “Exactly. But I couldn’t figure out how. I heard you found that underground undocumented train tracks. I can’t stop thinking that it’s connected, but I’m retired now.†He rolled his eyes again. “But I’m supposed to just think about golfing now.â€
“Can you tell me more about what or who you thought was going on?â€
Mr. Akers threw his back into his chair and threw his arms in the air. “Ah, I have no idea. I just had a strong sense there was a mole involved. It seemed like different files were being changed and when I ran a report, it changed the next time I ran it. I don’t know, they all thought I was just becoming forgetful and paranoid.â€
The wheels were turning in my head. “You know that when we ran our victim’s fingerprints they came back to your daughter. Do you think this could all be related?â€
Mr. Akers laced his fingers, set his fists on the table, and leaned in closer. “Yes.â€
Tim give me a subtle nod of the head and we left the interview room.
“You think we should tell him about his daughter and Jack?â€
I thought for a moment. “Not yet. Let’s save that truth bomb for a little bit. I think we have a lot to work with here.â€
We thanked Mr. Akers for his help and I decided to get to the bottom of who our Jane Doe was. I conducted a database search for all missing person cases in the past few days to see if any women were reported missing matching a similar physical description to Tiffany.
Surprisingly, there were only two missing person reports made within a 30-mile radius. The first one was a teenaged boy who ran away from home. But the second… the second missing person report was for a young female with long blonde hair. 23 years old and was an FBI agent who hadn’t reported for work the past few days.
“Holy ****, Tim, do you see this?â€
Tim ran his fingers through his curly hair. “Jesus Christ. Are we investigating the FBI now?â€
I didn’t know what to say.
“Okay, okay,†Tim added. “We can either go check out this missing person report or we can go back to the train station and try to catch another train come through. What’s your next course of actions?â€
“We’re going to do both. Let’s start with the missing woman. What’s her name?â€
“Jessica Linvaugh.â€
We headed over to Ms. Linvaugh’s residence and met her boyfriend. He welcomed us inside and told us that he’s been living with her for a few months now and was physically distraught over her disappearance.
“I just don’t know what happened,†he pleaded. “She was working a big case at work but she couldn’t give me many details. I’m wondering if that had to do with it.â€
“What do you know about the case she was working?†Tim asked.
“She just graduated from the University of Pittsburgh two years ago. She was a Brainiac and got straight into the FBI and has only been on maybe a year. I guess she got assigned some big case a guy was working who spontaneously retired and then she had to try to pick up the pieces. She became obsessed. She even became paranoid and made comments to me that she didn’t trust her coworkers. I don’t know what’s going on but I know something’s wrong.â€
I was silent while I thought. If I got some of her DNA from a hairbrush, I could compare it to the body. But if she’s FBI, her fingerprints and DNA should already be in the system. I decided, “Is there a hair brush or something here we could get her DNA off of for comparison purposes?â€
Michael, Jessica’s boyfriend, complied and provided us with a few of her items. We were out of our jurisdiction so Jessica’s missing person case wasn’t ours to solve, we thought she could be involved and were going to check it out.
We rushed the DNA back to our forensic lab and I pulled a few strings to ask them to compare Jessica’s DNA with our Jane Doe’s.
It took a little while, but the results finally came back. Jessica was our Jane Doe.
Tim and I headed back to the train station as planned to see what else we were missing. I told him about the note and wondered if Jessica was the one who held the note and who she was there to meet. Was she onto someone? Who?
Tim and I walked through the train station and headed to the sewer grate to go down to the first level. I bent down to left up the sewer grate and couldn’t pick it up. I stepped aside to let Tim try and he couldn’t get it off either. It was stuck. Tim shined his flashlight down and saw nothing but cement. Someone had cemented the entire thing shut. Who doesn’t want us back down there?
“****!†Tim yelled.
“Plan B,†I responded. I started to storm out of the train station and head back to my cruiser when out of the corner of my eye I saw a man in a wheelchair. I turned my head and looked closer. The man had severe burns all over his face.
No face and no legs. Henry wasn’t lying.
I ran over to him and introduced myself. Tim was a few paces behind me trying to catch up.
The man glared up at me and quietly answered, “If you don’t catch the midnight train, people will die.â€


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