by Jay Allisan
I saw it as soon as I turned the corner, a gaping hole in the row of houses. I swung the car across the road and leapt out. The crowds were gathering, potential casualties if there was a second explosion. We had to clear the danger zone.
“I’ll take the left!” Paddy hollered. He ran for an elderly man struggling down the stairs of the house next door. I ran toward the house on the right, buckled from the force of the blast. The wall was littered with punctures and the roof was caving in.
I hammered on the front door. “This is the police! Is anyone home?”
Overhead the porch roof groaned. I tried the knob. Locked. I pressed my face to the glass. “Police! Is there anyone inside?”
The roof splintered loud as a gunshot. I vaulted the porch railing, hitting the ground just as the roof collapsed. I ran alongside the house towards the backyard. The back door was locked, no signs of life inside. All I could do was hope nobody was home.
I looked at the remains of the neighboring house. Any fence that once stood had been blown away, giving me a clear view into the home’s concrete basement. It was all that was recognizable. The aboveground structure was decimated, the blast radius reaching into the street and almost to the rear of the yard. Whatever was left in the basement was on fire. For now the foundation contained the blaze, but if it jumped to the scattered debris more houses were at risk. I needed to keep evacuating.
As I started back toward the street, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Deep in the exploded house’s backyard, nestled under a willow tree, was a shed, and the door was inching open. A small face peeked out.
“Oh my God,” I murmured. It was a little girl, maybe four or five, dressed as if for a tea party. She disappeared back inside the shed.
I picked my way across the yard, hesitating for a second outside the shed door. I pushed it open.
The shed was done up like a playhouse. The little girl knelt on a rug, pouring water into plastic teacups. She didn’t look at me. I crouched in front of her.
“Hello,” I said quietly. “What’s your name?”
Big dark eyes stared out at me from a round, pale face, but she didn’t answer.
“My name’s Shirley. Can I have some tea?”
“No,” she said sharply. “It’s for my mama.”
“Where is your mama?” I asked, praying she’d say work, the grocery store, anywhere but—
“Inside.”
My eyes closed. Then snapped back open.
“What’s your name?” I scanned her for marks or bruises, not finding any. She was small but not malnourished, and her curly dark hair had been brushed that morning.
“Maria,” she said.
“Maria, is your daddy inside too? Is he at work?”
“I don’t have a daddy.”
“Do you have a brother or a sister?”
“Just me,” she said proudly. “Me and Mama.”
I stood, an uneasy feeling whispering down my spine. “Maria, I’m going to take you on a car ride, okay?”
“I’m not supposed to go with strangers.”
“I’m a police officer,” I told her. I showed her my shield. “See? I’m one of the good guys.”
“You’re a lady.”
“I’m one of the good ladies.”
I looked around the shed for a doll or stuffed animal she could bring with her. My gaze froze at a cordless phone. Nailed to the wall above it was a typed piece of paper, Emergency Contacts in bold letters across the top. Mom was first, with a work number and a cell number. Then Maria’s pediatrician. The babysitter. The school. Then Uncle Bill.
“Maria, do you have an Uncle Bill?”
“Nope,” she said. “Just me and Mama.”
I scooped her off the floor, knocking over her teacups. She screamed and hit me in the face. I held her arms against her side and got the hell out of the shed. Maria wailed, screaming, “Mama! Mama!” over and over. Her feet beat against me and I realized she wasn’t wearing shoes.
The street was cordoned off with cop cars now, more sirens echoing in the distance. There were people everywhere, cops trying to set up a perimeter, bystanders jostling for a better view. If someone was after Maria he could be watching us right now. I hurried towards the car.
“Shirley!” It was Scarlett, jogging toward me from the side of the street I should have been evacuating. He stopped short when he saw the girl. “Oh my God. Was she in the house?”
“You think anyone’s walking out of that?” I snapped. Maria screamed louder. Carl appeared behind Scarlett, white as a ghost.
“Should I call Child Services?” Scarlett asked.
I shook my head. “Find Paddy.”
“Who’s—”
“My partner! The guy who was talking to your partner! Tell him to meet me at the car.”
I pushed past them, Maria thrashing wildly and screaming bloody murder. I got her in the backseat and locked the doors, breathing a sigh of relief. Maria pounded on the window but I ignored her.
I called Dixon. He was silent as I explained, and all he said before hanging up was, “I’m on my way.” I didn’t mind, so long as he got here fast. He had daughters. He’d know what to do.
I leaned against the car, as much to conceal Maria as to keep my balance. My knees felt shaky. My palms were slick. I studied faces in the crowd, wondering which one was trying to kidnap the daughter of the woman he’d just blown up. That seemed excessive, blowing up an entire house. If he’d do that to Maria’s mom in the middle of the day he might even try to snatch Maria right now, and who knew what he’d do to—
I whirled at the sound of footsteps, my gun flying into my hands. Paddy ducked, shouting, “Jesus, Shirley, what the fuck?”
I fumbled the gun back into its holster and wiped my hands on my pants. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I’m a little jumpy.”
“No shit. Jesus.” He pushed a hand through his hair, blowing out a sigh. He straightened. “So where’s the kid?”
“In the car. I think she’s asleep.”
We peered through the window. Maria was curled up in the footwell, eyes closed and a thumb in her mouth.
“Her mom was in the house,” I said.
“You call Child Services yet?”
“No.” I told him about the Emergency Contact list. “Maria said she doesn’t have an uncle. I think she’s a target.”
Paddy’s eyes flashed to me. “No way. It’s been what, three days since he took Kimmie? The investigation’s too hot.”
“The pattern’s there.”
“Jesus.”
I turned away from the car, casting a wistful glance down the street. Dixon was coming. Dixon was coming. Dixon was turning the corner. I stuck my arm above my head and waved.
He joined us at the car. “Where’s the list?”
“Still in the shed.”
“Go get it.”
I unlocked the car to get gloves and a bag, then locked it up again. Even with Paddy and Dixon standing right there I didn’t like leaving Maria vulnerable. I made my way through the personnel in the yard, who were concentrated around the house’s foundation. Nobody was over by the shed. I reached for the doorknob, then paused. The door was closed. I thought I’d left it open. I put on the gloves and turned the knob gingerly, pushing the door open bit by bit. The shed was empty. I stepped inside. The evidence bag fluttered to the floor.
The list was gone.
“GONE,” SAID Dixon.
“One of our people coulda taken it,” said Paddy.
“He took it,” I said. I stripped off my gloves and crumpled the evidence bag, pacing beside the car. “He was here and he took it. I don’t know why, but—”
“Was anything else disturbed inside the shed?” Dixon asked.
“No. I don’t know. I don’t think so.” I looked again at the mass of spectators. There were so many people, and those were just the ones confined to the street. Someone could have slipped around back before we had a perimeter set up. I bounced the evidence b
ag off the car in frustration. “But why would he take it? How are we supposed to call him if he took—”
“Shirley—”
“Where’s forensics? We need to dust the doorknob for prints. And there’s carpet inside, he could have left—”
“Shirley.” I flinched at the touch on my arm, but Dixon didn’t let go. He held my gaze. “Breathe deeply. The situation is under control.”
“Under control? He just blew up a house and you’re saying—”
“I need you to focus now. Focus on your breathing.”
My chest was heaving, my nerves buzzing like power lines. Dixon stood in front of me, breathing, and I latched onto his rhythm. In slow. Out slow. Repeat. Repeat.
Dixon released my arm and nodded toward the crime scene. “Look there. What do you see?”
“Forensics,” I answered, mellowed. “They’re heading toward the shed.”
He indicated the perimeter. “What about there?”
“Highlands. They’re interviewing all the bystanders.”
“And there?”
I glanced at the house’s foundation, a familiar silhouette crouched at the rim. Relief flooded through me as I whispered, “Max.”
“Do you understand?”
I nodded. “The situation is under control.”
“I’m going to go speak with Max,” Dixon said. “He needs to know what we’re looking at.”
“I’ll tell him.”
“I need you to stay with the girl. Take her back to Old Town.”
“Can’t Paddy do it?”
Paddy folded his arms and stonefaced me.
“This is a traumatic situation for her,” Dixon said. “She’s met you, however briefly. Be a constant for her now.” He exchanged a look with Paddy. “Go together. Captain Shapiro is expecting you.”
“Shapiro?” I said, but he was already leaving. I stared after him in dismay. “But I don’t want to see Shapiro.”
“That makes two of us,” Paddy grumbled. “Now give me back my car keys.”
“I’ll drive,” I said, and Paddy laughed in my face.
“Like hell you’re getting behind the wheel. You just about blew my head off.”
“I said I was sorry.”
“Sorry’s a drop in the bucket, Shirley. That’s some messed up shit, drawing on your own partner.”
“I didn’t know it was you. I’m sorry. I’m just…” I extended the car keys, ashamed. “I’m sorry.”
Paddy took the keys, studying me with something like concern in his eyes. “You got a handle on this? Whatever this is?”
“I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
I looked away. His words echoed in Max’s voice. Don’t lie to me. Don’t lie.
“The situation is under control.”
26
I UNBUCKLED Maria from the back seat, wondering if this was how Max felt when he was disarming a bomb. She’d been dopey when I moved her from the footwell, but now she was perking up again. Maybe it was for the best. Eight flights of stairs was a long way to carry her.
“Hey Maria,” I said softly, lifting her out of the car. “Remember me? We’re going to go for a walk, okay?”
She nodded blearily, clutching my leg. I held her hand instead and felt almost competent. This wasn’t so bad.
“Where’s Mama?” she asked, and competency disappeared.
“She’s, uh…” I looked to Paddy for help. He shrugged. I started walking. “Look at this cool building, Maria. It’s a police station. Do you want to see what it looks like inside?”
“Where’s Mama?”
“She, uh, she asked us to watch you. Let’s go inside, okay? There’s lots of cool stuff inside.”
Maria made it up four flights of stairs before sitting down and refusing to walk any further. I carried her the rest of the way to Shapiro’s office. Paddy knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Shapiro said. Her eyes flicked to Maria. “Leave the girl in the hall.”
“I’ll bring her to the lounge,” Paddy said. He took Maria from me. “Come get us when you’re done.”
Paddy shut the door, and I was alone in the lion’s den.
Shapiro steepled her fingers beneath her chin and scrutinized me. “Tell me everything.”
I did. She continued to watch me even after I’d finished, her silence unsettling. I waited for a question, an order, a backhand remark, something. Shapiro always had something to say to me. But not today.
Then her door burst open and I nearly had a heart attack.
“Sorry, Captain, I should have knocked,” Max said breathlessly. “I got here as soon as I could.”
He stood beside me with a reassuring smile. I was too surprised to smile back. “What are you doing here?” I whispered. “The house—”
“Sergeant Mordecai,” Shapiro said coldly. “You should be on scene.”
“I was on scene, but when I found out about the girl—”
“You abandoned your duties.”
Max drew back his shoulders. “No, Captain. My unit is coordinating with forensics and the fire department to—”
“Are you or are you not squad leader? Your place is on scene.”
“I’m not arguing with you, Captain, but—”
“You are arguing, Sergeant. Don’t.”
Max colored, flustered, and I jumped in. “This investigation is more than analyzing a blast site. Any one of the bomb squad techs can bag evidence. Max knows Kimmie, which makes him our best connection to whoever did this. He should talk to Maria. It’ll be hours before processing anyway.”
Shapiro narrowed her eyes at me. Max stepped forward quickly. “Captain, the reason I’ve come is out of concern for the girl’s well-being. All evidence points to our suspect, a man who’s killed people to get to their children, and I’ve no doubt he’ll do it again to get to her. She can’t go to the Center. We have to keep her safe.”
“I do hope you didn’t come all this way to state the obvious,” Shapiro said dryly.
“I came to ask for custody,” Max said. “Me and Shirley. We’ll take her.”
He bit his lip, glancing at me sideways. I was stunned stupid. Of course she couldn’t go to the Center, but that didn’t mean she had to come home with us. I’d gotten her this far. This was supposed to be my drop point.
Shapiro lifted an eyebrow. “Shirley? Do you have any thoughts on this matter?”
“She has a babysitter,” I offered weakly. I glanced at Max, at the urgency burning in his eyes. I swallowed. “But that wouldn’t be safe, for either of them. He had access to the Emergency Contact list. He’d know how to find her.”
I swallowed again, my mouth thick as cotton. Shapiro waited. Max fidgeted. I took a deep breath. “We’ll take her. She’ll be safe with us.”
Shapiro looked between me and Max. “You understand the risks?”
“We do,” Max said earnestly. “And we’re better equipped to deal with them than any civilian could be. We’ll keep her safe. I swear it.”
“I’m not interested in promises. I’m interested in results. You both still have duties to this investigation.”
“We’ll work it out. Do we have permission to take her home?”
Shapiro nodded curtly. “Until we have a suspect in custody, she is your responsibility. You may go.”
Max grabbed me by the hand and pulled me from the office. As soon as the door was shut he swept me into a hug. “Oh my God, thank you, sweetheart, thank you. I didn’t mean to ambush you like that, but we couldn’t just leave her alone and helpless. Once he realizes she’s not at the Center he’ll come after her again, and we can’t let him—”
“I know, Max. You’re right. This is best for her.”
Max brushed his thumb across my cheek. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I said, a little too quickly. I forced a smile. “Just letting everything sink in.” He opened his mouth to say something but I distracted him. “You want to go see her? She’s in the lounge.”
His eyes lit up and he nodded, so I led the way down the hall. The lounge was dark except for the television, which gave Maria’s enraptured face an ethereal glow. Paddy was next to the couch, leaning against the wall.
“Found some kid show about a time-traveling dog,” he said. “Hey, Max.”
Max flipped on the light. He approached Maria cautiously and settled into a crouch. She barely looked at him. Paddy turned the TV off and Maria’s face screwed up. Max touched her arm.
“Hey, kiddo,” he said, smiling. “My name is Max. What’s your name?”
Maria pouted but she didn’t cry. Max poked a finger into her side and she wriggled backward.
“Is it a secret?” Max asked, very serious. “Can you whisper it in my ear?”
He leaned forward, cupping a hand to his ear. Maria considered him, then leaned forward too, her small hands cupped around her mouth. Max gave her a silly look.
“Did you say banana? Is your name really banana?”
Maria giggled and whispered to him again. Max said, “Ohhh, I see. Your name is Matthew.”
“No-o!” Maria admonished loudly. “Matthew is a boy’s name! I’m Maria!”
“Okay, I’ve got it now. Hi Maria.”
She reached for him then, wrapping her arms around his neck. He lifted her off the couch and held her close, flashing me a big grin. I could barely smile back. They had the same dark hair and dimpled cheeks, matching smiles on their faces. They could almost pass for family.
“We should get her home,” Max said to me. He gave Maria’s stockinged foot a playful squeeze. “Although first I guess we’ll have to pick up a few things. Shoes, clothes, toys…” He tickled her. “Do you want to go to the toy store?”
Maria squealed. Max looked at me expectantly. “You go ahead,” I told him. “I’ve got some stuff to finish up here.”
Max frowned. “Are you sure? We can wait until you’re ready.”
“No, no, that’s fine. I might be a while.”
“I’ll come back and pick you up. Will you call—”
“I’ll take a cab home. You, uh, you guys have fun.”