Chapter 4 - The FBI Connection
At eight o’clock on Black Friday morning, a black government SUV pulled up to the curb outside my parents' house.
Two men in tailored dark suits stepped out, carrying heavy briefcases and wearing the unmistakable serious expressions of federal agents.
Detective Vance met them at the front door and escorted them straight into the living room where David and I were waiting.
“Ms. Jenkins, Mr. Monroe, I am Special Agent Harrison with the FBI’s Violent Crimes Against Children Task Force,” the older agent introduced himself.
He set his briefcase on the coffee table and unlocked the brass latches with two sharp, metallic clicks.
“We were notified by the Denver Police Department roughly four hours ago regarding the facial recognition match on Gregory Alan Miller.”
Agent Harrison pulled out a thick, red-tagged manila folder labeled MILLER, GREGORY A. - UNRESOLVED.
He spread several eight-by-ten surveillance photographs across the table, showing the same graying man in different cities across the Pacific Northwest.
“Miller isn't just wanted for the 2001 disappearance of Chloe Monroe in Portland,” Agent Harrison explained grimly.
“We believe he is responsible for the abduction and murder of at least six young girls between 1998 and 2008 across four different states.”
David let out a choked sound, covering his face with his hands as the brutal reality of his sister's fate was confirmed by federal authorities.
I reached over and gripped his shoulder, feeling the violent tremors of grief and anger wracking his large frame.
“How has he stayed out of prison for twenty-five years if you know who he is?” I asked the agent, feeling a burning indignation rising in my chest.
“Because Miller is a chameleon who works itinerant, seasonal jobs—carnivals, state fairs, traveling trade shows, and temporary security details,” Harrison said.
“He uses stolen Social Security numbers from deceased infants, works exclusively for cash, and never stays in one tax district for more than six months.”
The younger agent, a sharp-eyed woman named Agent Chen, pulled out a digital tablet and tapped the screen.
“However, your family photo albums have just provided us with the single biggest investigative breakthrough in twenty years,” she stated.
“By tracking the background dates and locations of your childhood photos, we can now map his exact geographical movements between 2004 and 2015.”
She turned the tablet toward us, showing a digital map of Ohio and Colorado with bright red pins dropping onto the cities where my family had lived.
Every single time my father had been transferred for his corporate engineering job, a red pin appeared in that exact same city within thirty days.
“He didn't just happen to live in Denver when you moved here, Sarah,” Agent Chen said softly, looking at me with deep sympathy.
“Gregory Alan Miller has been actively shadowing your family across state lines for over a decade.”
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“He’s treating me like his unfinished property,” I whispered, looking down at the red pins that marked my stolen childhood.
“And now that my engagement announcement was published in the Sunday paper last week... he knows I’m getting married.”
