Free Vanishing Act by Fern Michaels

it is? For God’s sake, Maggie, what’s going on?”
    “I remembered something, that’s what’s going on. Are you awake, Ted? I need you to listen and be alert.” Maggie inched her way over to Ted’s side of the bed and looked down at her partner. “Do you remember what happened after I ran that first series of articles on all those people whose identities were stolen?”
    “Maggie, why can’t this wait till morning? I’m freezing.”
    Heartless, Maggie snapped, “If you’d wear flannel pajamas the way other people do in the winter, you wouldn’t be freezing. Just listen and tell me if you remember a conversation we had.”
    “All right, all right, but why can’t I get in bed and listen?”
    “Because I want you in listening mode, not lovemaking mode. When you’re cold, you always want to have sex. Remember me telling you about that kid who called the paper after the articles ran? I blew him off because he sounded like a kid, his voice changing, you know, from a kid’s voice to a more mature voice. He said someone stole his name, and now he doesn’t have credit. I thought he read the paper and just wanted to make a crank call. I blew him off, Ted, and that doesn’t say much for me. He said he was a mechanic and worked at a garage and he wanted to buy a car, but when he applied for credit he found out he had bad credit and he didn’t know how that could be possible. Do you remember me telling you about it?”
    “No, I don’t! I’m cold, Maggie.”
    “All right, you can get back in bed, but don’t go to sleep. I have to talk this out. We have to find that kid. I remember he said he was in Silver Spring, Maryland. I want you to go there and take Espinosa with you and check out every garage and gas station.”
    “Are you crazy? Why? That could take days.”
    Ted punched his pillow with such force that the pillow split and a feather sailed upward, then another. Maggie reached up and caught them. She tickled Ted’s ear, and he groaned.
    “That kid said he was a foster kid. A foster kid, Ted! He said his friend was in the same boat. The friend wanted to buy a scooter of some kind, and they wouldn’t give him credit even though he had a job. God! I can’t believe I was so stupid I blew him off. But in my own defense, the calls were coming in so quick and fast, legitimate calls, the switchboard blew out. You remember
that
, don’t you?” Maggie snapped.
    Ted knew it was worth his life to remember, so he said, “Yeah. Well, we all screw up at one point or another. So what is your point here?”
    “My point is this: Let’s just say for the sake of argument the guy or the kid that called is eighteen years old. Let’s say he was a foster kid living with some family, and now he’s out on his own. He gets a job of some kind, and at eighteen, he’s looking for some wheels. He applies for a credit card, and suddenly he finds out he can’t get one because someone stole his identity when he was younger and ruined his credit. How many foster kids are in the system, Ted? Thousands, that’s how many.
    “What I want you to do is go to Child Placement, or whatever department handles foster children, and talk to them. If I’m right, and you know I’m always right, there has to be someone on the inside passing information to those cruds who are stealing those identities. Think about it, Ted! If they start stealing these kids’ identities when they’re young, they have a four-or five-year head start before the kid finds out. My God! What a perfect scam!
    “Why aren’t you getting dressed, Ted? You need to get on this right away. Call Espinosa and hit the ground running. Find that kid who called in. Use Dawson if you need extra help. Silver Spring isn’t that big.”
    Ted groaned. He knew there was no point in arguing, but he tried. “What are you going to be doing while I’m doing all that?”
    “I’m going back to sleep. Good luck.”
    By the time Ted was dressed, Maggie was snoring lightly. He let