Baby Be Mine Read Online Free
Author: Diane Fanning
the brother of United States Attorney Todd Graves in Kansas City, Missouri. Sam had a lot of strings he could pull, and he jerked hard.
Sheriff Espeyâs call for assistance at the crime scene put a lot of law enforcement specialists in motion. The first to head toward Skidmore was Sergeant Dave Merrill of the Missouri Highway Patrol.
En route, Merrill called Commander Larry Smith at the St. Josephâs Police Department. St. Joseph was the biggest city in Missouri north of Kansas City. It had a population of 75,000. It was the town where the Pony Express began and Jesse Jamesâ notorious life came to an end, and on the trail followed by Lewis and Clark.
Heavy in history but progressive in technology, the police departmentâs investigative and forensic officers were the bestfor miles. Their departmentâs high-tech crime-scene specialists responded to the requests of a number of area counties throughout Northwest Missouri.
After running the out-of-jurisdiction request by Police Chief Mike Hirter, Smith pulled together a team of two investigators and five evidence techs. Then, they put their mobile command post on the road. This twenty-foot-long converted recreational vehicle was equipped with five computerized work stations, an eight-person conference center, a satellite, generator, decontamination shower and a bathroom. It was an invaluable tool at any crime scene. In addition to providing an efficient work space and a secure area for discussion among officers, it was also a retreat where detectives and techs could take a break to refocus and revitalize.
Missouri State Highway Patrol vehicles from around the region congregated in the area around Skidmore. Those officers and Sheriff Espey and his deputies instituted a rigorous search for a small newborn bundle of humanity. They peered in every Dumpsterâdiving into any whose contents raised the slightest suspicion.
Their eyes scoured roadsides checking out any discarded trash of promising size. At every bridge, they paused to examine the creek beds, streams and riverbanks searching for anything that resembled a baby thrown over the side. At the same time, they kept a keen eye on all the passing traffic, desperate to spot any vehicle approximating the description of the car seen earlier in front of the Stinnett home.
A ticking clock pounded out its beat in every officerâs head. Every minute counted. Every passing hour was cause for dread. Desperation fueled their search and their hearts as they searched for a baby they hoped was still alive, but feared was dead. They went door to door canvassing the area in a four-block radius of the Stinnett home.
Investigator Mike Wilson of the detective division was the first member of the St. Joseph Police Department to enter the home at 410 Elm Street. He crossed the front porch andopened the door. Neither the jambs nor the lock displayed any of the telltale signs of forced entry. He stepped into the living room. His eyes scanned over a television, a sofa and an easy chair, looking for anything amiss. Not a single item was out of order. Not one surface was dulled with dust.
In the dining room, the reign of order continued. No signs of any altercation. He spotted a computer next to the wall and made a mental note of its presence.
That room led to the kitchen where the first signs of violence caught his eye. Someone attempted to clean up in the blood-spattered sink. Had the perpetrator paused there and washed his hands? He stored that question in his mind, knowing he needed to find an answer to it before he left the house.
Off to the left of the dining room was a converted bedroom. It was there that the reason for his presence was obvious. The evidence of a struggle was written in red all over the floor.
The victimâs body was no longer in place, but the evidence of her life and her fight to maintain it were painted in the blood at his feet. Knowing that the person who died there was a young pregnant
Sheriff Espeyâs call for assistance at the crime scene put a lot of law enforcement specialists in motion. The first to head toward Skidmore was Sergeant Dave Merrill of the Missouri Highway Patrol.
En route, Merrill called Commander Larry Smith at the St. Josephâs Police Department. St. Joseph was the biggest city in Missouri north of Kansas City. It had a population of 75,000. It was the town where the Pony Express began and Jesse Jamesâ notorious life came to an end, and on the trail followed by Lewis and Clark.
Heavy in history but progressive in technology, the police departmentâs investigative and forensic officers were the bestfor miles. Their departmentâs high-tech crime-scene specialists responded to the requests of a number of area counties throughout Northwest Missouri.
After running the out-of-jurisdiction request by Police Chief Mike Hirter, Smith pulled together a team of two investigators and five evidence techs. Then, they put their mobile command post on the road. This twenty-foot-long converted recreational vehicle was equipped with five computerized work stations, an eight-person conference center, a satellite, generator, decontamination shower and a bathroom. It was an invaluable tool at any crime scene. In addition to providing an efficient work space and a secure area for discussion among officers, it was also a retreat where detectives and techs could take a break to refocus and revitalize.
Missouri State Highway Patrol vehicles from around the region congregated in the area around Skidmore. Those officers and Sheriff Espey and his deputies instituted a rigorous search for a small newborn bundle of humanity. They peered in every Dumpsterâdiving into any whose contents raised the slightest suspicion.
Their eyes scoured roadsides checking out any discarded trash of promising size. At every bridge, they paused to examine the creek beds, streams and riverbanks searching for anything that resembled a baby thrown over the side. At the same time, they kept a keen eye on all the passing traffic, desperate to spot any vehicle approximating the description of the car seen earlier in front of the Stinnett home.
A ticking clock pounded out its beat in every officerâs head. Every minute counted. Every passing hour was cause for dread. Desperation fueled their search and their hearts as they searched for a baby they hoped was still alive, but feared was dead. They went door to door canvassing the area in a four-block radius of the Stinnett home.
Investigator Mike Wilson of the detective division was the first member of the St. Joseph Police Department to enter the home at 410 Elm Street. He crossed the front porch andopened the door. Neither the jambs nor the lock displayed any of the telltale signs of forced entry. He stepped into the living room. His eyes scanned over a television, a sofa and an easy chair, looking for anything amiss. Not a single item was out of order. Not one surface was dulled with dust.
In the dining room, the reign of order continued. No signs of any altercation. He spotted a computer next to the wall and made a mental note of its presence.
That room led to the kitchen where the first signs of violence caught his eye. Someone attempted to clean up in the blood-spattered sink. Had the perpetrator paused there and washed his hands? He stored that question in his mind, knowing he needed to find an answer to it before he left the house.
Off to the left of the dining room was a converted bedroom. It was there that the reason for his presence was obvious. The evidence of a struggle was written in red all over the floor.
The victimâs body was no longer in place, but the evidence of her life and her fight to maintain it were painted in the blood at his feet. Knowing that the person who died there was a young pregnant
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