Chapter 2 - THE THING BENEATH THE BED
The precinct interrogation room was cold, but the chill radiating from Helen Carter had nothing to do with the temperature.
She sat across from my desk, her trembling hands clutching a worn leather handbag. Ava was asleep on the small couch in the captain’s office down the hall, wrapped in my spare uniform jacket, with Shadow resting his heavy chin protectively on the edge of the cushions. The dog hadn’t left the little girl’s side since the park.
“What did you find under Ava’s bed, Mrs. Carter?” I asked gently, keeping my voice low.
Helen took a ragged breath. She opened her handbag and pulled out a small, dented tin box. It looked like an old tea canister.
“Sarah was a good mother,” Helen whispered, her eyes filling with fresh tears. “When she died in that car accident last Christmas Eve, the police told me it was black ice. They said she lost control on the bridge. I believed them. I had to.”
She pushed the tin box across the metal table.
“Then, three days after the funeral, I was cleaning out Ava’s room. I moved her bed to vacuum, and I found this taped underneath the floorboards.”
I carefully pried the lid off the tin. Inside rested a child’s drawing of a house, a silver rosary, and a heavy brass key wrapped in a piece of torn notebook paper.
I unfolded the paper. The handwriting was frantic, the ink smeared as if the writer had been crying.
If anything happens to me, it wasn’t an accident. Do not trust the police. Keep Ava away from the man with the gray eyes. He didn’t forgive me for December 18. Use the key at the bus station. I’m so sorry, Mama.
My blood ran cold.
“The man we arrested today,” I said, looking up at Helen. “The man at the park.”
Helen nodded, a tear finally spilling over her cheek. “He has gray eyes, Officer Brooks. When I saw him standing outside the playground today, I froze. I’ve been terrified for ten months, looking over my shoulder, wondering who she was running from.”
“Why didn’t you bring this to the precinct?” I asked.
Helen let out a bitter, exhausted laugh. “Read the second sentence again, Officer.”
Do not trust the police.
The words seemed to burn on the page. Sarah hadn’t just been afraid of the man in the gray jacket. She was afraid of the badge I wore on my chest.
Before I could ask another question, the heavy metal door of the interview room clicked open. Detective Miller, a twenty-year veteran with a reputation for closing cases fast and asking few questions, stepped inside.
“Brooks,” Miller grunted, barely acknowledging Helen. “You can cut the girl and her grandmother loose. We’re letting the suspect go.”
I stood up so fast my chair scraped loudly against the floor. “What? He tried to kidnap a seven-year-old child in broad daylight.”
Miller shrugged, avoiding my eyes. “He provided proof of identity. His name is Elias Thorne. He’s a private investigator. Had a stack of legally obtained surveillance photos and a clean record. Captain said there’s not enough to hold him on an abduction charge. He claimed he was just asking the kid for directions.”
“Directions?” I snapped. “He told her that her dead mother was waiting in his car!”
“Hearsay from a traumatized kid,” Miller fired back, his tone hardening. “Let it go, Brooks. Stick to walking your dog.”
Miller turned and walked out, leaving the door wide open.
I looked back at Helen. She was pale, clutching her chest as panic set in.
“He’s going to come back for her,” she whispered.
I looked down at the heavy brass key in my hand, then at the terrified grandmother in front of me. I knew stepping out of line could cost me my badge, but when I remembered Ava’s arms wrapped around my dog’s neck, my choice was already made.
“I’m not going to let that happen,” I said.
I walked out of the room and headed straight for the holding cells. If the department was letting Elias Thorne walk, I was going to be the last thing he saw before he hit the street.
When I reached the holding area, Thorne was already standing by the checkout desk, signing for his belongings. He wore the same gray jacket, but his demeanor had completely changed. The panic from the park was gone. He looked calm. Too calm.
“Thorne,” I barked.
He slowly turned around. His gray eyes locked onto mine.
“Officer Brooks,” he said smoothly.
“Stay away from that family. If I see you anywhere near Lincoln Park, or anywhere near that little girl, I won’t just send my dog next time.”
Thorne didn’t flinch. Instead, he took a step closer to the bars separating us.
“You think you saved her today, don’t you?” he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“I know I did.”
Thorne shook his head slowly. “Your dog has good instincts, Brooks. But he barked at the wrong person. I wasn’t trying to take Ava away from her grandmother.”
He leaned in closer, his gray eyes piercing right through me.
“I was trying to get her away from the man who was watching them from the trees. The same man who cut the brakes on Sarah’s car last Christmas.”
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Thorne picked up his wallet, slid it into his pocket, and turned toward the exit.
“Check your own partner’s patrol logs for December 18,” Thorne called over his shoulder. “Before you make a promise to that little girl you can’t keep.”
