by Mike Omer
Before they could all introduce themselves, Hannah’s phone rang again.
It was Agent Mancuso. “Okay, I have a location.”
“Where is she?”
“Well, the phone is at the corner of Babel Lane and Kimball Way—or within six hundred feet, give or take.”
It was quarter past midnight, just mere minutes after Officer Tanessa Lonnie and Officer Sergio Bertini had begun their shift. They were expecting a rowdy one; Saint Patrick’s Day was infamous for overflowing with the worst drunken behavior one could expect. Sure, it was a happy evening, but eventually someone had to deal with the drunks that got into fights or decided they were sober enough to drive home. Tanessa wasn’t looking forward to it.
“Look, all I’m saying is, you just have to try it once. If you don’t like it, I won’t bug you about it again,” Sergio told her as she drove slowly down Clayton Road.
“Sergio, I’m not going surfing in March!” Tanessa said, incredulous. This was the third shift he’d spent trying to convince her to share his hobby of playing with hypothermia. “Look around you! It snowed last week! You want to die of pneumonia, be my guest, but why are you trying to take me with you?”
“You wear a wet suit. It’s no big deal.”
“It’s a wet suit! I’m freezing my ass off every time I get out of the car, and I’m wearing a coat, two shirts, and a scarf—all of them completely dry. You want me to put on wet clothing and jump into icy water? You’re deranged.”
“You don’t feel the cold!”
“Maybe you don’t. Your brain is dead; you don’t feel anything. Listen, forget it, I’m not going to—”
The crackle of the radio interrupted the conversation. “Four fifty-one, Dispatch.”
“Go ahead,” Tanessa said into her shoulder mic.
“Four fifty-one, you’re needed at the corner of Babel Lane and Kimball Way, to locate a missing child in the area.”
“Dispatch, copy.” Tanessa said. “Is this about the girls we were told to keep an eye for?”
“Four fifty-one, affirmative.”
“Dispatch, we’re on our way.”
“Who lets their kids wander around at this time of night?” Sergio muttered as Tanessa turned the steering wheel.
“I don’t think they let the girls wander around,” Tanessa said. “I mean… I used to sneak out when I was a teen. My parents never knew.”
“It’s neglectful, that’s what I’m saying. People should take good care of their kids.”
“You can hardly manage taking care of a parrot!” Tanessa said, glancing at a group of young men as they walked down the street, laughing, probably on their way to the next bar.
“Gabriella is a very complicated animal, okay? She has moods!”
“Yeah, well, kids have moods too.”
They reached the location, parking the patrol car near a black Dodge Charger and two white Chevrolets. A group of people stood nearby, Bernard’s tall figure among them. The big man was hard to miss. He towered over most of the people around him by several inches. Tanessa started as she realized that Captain Bailey stood by Bernard’s side. He was focused on a woman in front of the group: Agent Mancuso, whom Tanessa had met once before, shortly after Jovan Stokes had nearly killed her.
Mancuso was an impressive woman, with a commanding presence and a sharp look. She had tawny skin, hardly touched by age, black hair shot through with silvery white, and a beauty mark by her lips that made her face unforgettable. She was talking to the rest of the men and women, her hands in her coat pockets, when Tanessa and Sergio joined them. She paused for a second, nodded at Tanessa, then resumed talking.
“Gracie Durham and Abigail Lisman have been missing for over three hours, so there’s a reason for concern. Gracie’s phone traces to this area, and we have about a six-hundred-foot margin of error. However, her phone is still on, and we are constantly calling it. When we get closer, we might hear the ringtone.”
She glanced around. “We have several apartment buildings and offices here, so we need to check them door to door. Captain Bailey, Detective Shor, and Detective Gladwin will do this, with Agents Fuller and Manning. Start with the gas station, see if anyone there saw anything. The rest of us, including Officer Lonnie and her partner, who have just joined us, will check the alleys, the streets and the playground.” She gestured at the dark playground two hundred feet away. “We have no idea if Gracie’s phone is still on her, or if the girls are together, and we assume nothing. Okay, let’s get going. It’s late, and I want to get the girls back to their parents in no more than an hour.”
The group broke up. Bailey, Hannah, and Bernard looked toward Tanessa and nodded, their faces grave. They seemed worried. If those experienced detectives were uneasy, they had good reason. Tanessa fervently hoped this shift wouldn’t end with her finding the body of a twelve-year-old girl.
“It’s nice to see you Officer Lonnie,” Agent Mancuso said, her shoulders hunched against the cold. “You seem… well.”
Last time they’d met was two days after Tanessa had been kidnapped and nearly killed. She’d had trouble sleeping and eaten almost nothing in the week that followed, so it wasn’t surprising that Agent Mancuso thought she seemed much better now. “Thank you,” she said. “You, too.”
“Right,” Agent Mancuso said. “Let's find these girls. I want you two to check the playground. We’ll cover the street.”
Tanessa nodded, and walked with Sergio toward the playground.
“You know that woman?” Sergio asked her.
“I met her once,” Tanessa said.
“She looks badass,” he said.
“I think she really is.”
The night chill became uncomfortable. It sneaked through Tanessa’s collars, the soles of her shoes, and even her multiple layers of clothing. Each breath she took invited the freezing air into her lungs and body. Her nose and ears throbbed.
She hated being cold. It was the thing she hated most about Glenmore Park, the cold winter. She wondered if the girls really were out on the street. If they were, they might freeze to death.
They reached the playground, which was surrounded by a low metal fence. They followed the fence for a few dozen feet until they came to the small opening that served as the entrance. The path inside was muddy, with dozens of shoe prints all over it. Small mounds of snow that hadn’t yet melted stood on either side of the path, dimly lit by the pale streetlight. The playground was quite big. There was an area with a merry-go-round, a slide, several swings, then deeper inside there was a basketball court and a long line of trees.
“It’s dark in here,” Sergio muttered, pulling his flashlight from his belt and switching it on. Tanessa did the same. The beams did little to penetrate the darkness as they stepped through the entrance. Tanessa kept her ears open for the ring or vibration of a mobile phone, but the only thing she could hear were her and Sergio’s footsteps crunching on the gravel of the path.
She had once been lost herself as a small child. When she was eight, her mother had taken Tanessa and her brothers for an evening walk. Tanessa skipped ahead, watching her shadow as it grew bigger and smaller in the lights of the street. She didn’t notice her mother stopping to talk to someone, probably a fan. Her mother had been an actress back then, and she was stopped by fans for an autograph or a photo almost daily. The street was very busy when Tanessa realized her mother and brothers were no longer behind her. She froze in place, looking for them, fear filling her heart. She’d been on the verge of crying when a man approached her and asked if everything was all right. She still remembered his smell: sweaty, sour, and unpleasant. One of his teeth was blackened. She’d screamed, stepping back, and burst into tears.
Mitchell and Richard were by her side in seconds. They hadn’t been far away. They’d all shouted at the embarrassed man, who had probably only wanted to help. Tanessa cried for what felt like hours afterward. It had been the scariest thing that had ever happened to her as a child.
Were Gracie
and Abigail alone on the street somewhere, crying? If so, why didn’t they answer the phone?
“They’re probably in one of the apartments in the area,” Sergio said. “Maybe they went to a party.”
“Yeah,” Tanessa said, but she had a very bad feeling this wasn’t the case. It was too late, the girls too young, the fact that they didn’t answer their—
“Do you hear that?” she said, stopping in her spot.
“Hear what?”
“Shut up.”
“You asked me—”
“Shut the hell up for a second.”
They both stood in silence, and she heard it again. A faint tune, far to their right. “Over there,” Tanessa said, crossing the frozen ground, her heart beating faster. The beam of her flashlight jumped erratically, searching, then it landed on a small inert body. She ran, nearly slipping on an icy patch, finally reaching the body on the ground. Crouching, she gently moved it to expose the face.
It was a young girl with dried blood on her forehead. She was limp and her skin was pale, almost blue.
“Get an ambulance over here!” Tanessa shouted at Sergio. She put a hand on the girl’s chest, lowered her ear to the girl’s mouth. The girl’s phone chirped somewhere nearby, making it harder for Tanessa to concentrate on the girl’s breathing, but finally she could hear and feel it: a faint shallow breath.
The girl was still alive.
Tanessa removed a glove and touched the girl’s cheek. It was icy cold. She took off her coat, ignoring the freezing temperature, and wrapped the girl in it, speaking to her softly the whole time. “It’s okay honey. We found you. Hang on. Open your eyes. Open your eyes for me. Hang on, help is coming.”
Chapter Three
“I’m sorry,” the doctor said. “I really can’t let you in. This child is exhausted, and we don’t want to tax her.”
He was bald on top, with tufts of gray hair on either side of his head, and Hannah wanted to grab them and shake him until he changed his tune. “I won’t say this again, Doctor,” she said through gritted teeth. “There’s another girl out there, and we haven’t found her yet. This girl might know where she is. I need to question her right now.”
“Well… I understand she was found in a park,” the doctor said. “Did you search the park?”
Hannah was about to explode. “I know how to do my job, thank you! Now move!” she marched forward, forcing him to move aside, and pulled the double door. It was locked. Beyond it, through the door’s tiny window, she could see a corridor lined with rooms, bathed in harsh neon light. A nurse walked slowly, pushing a hospital cart. Hannah thumped the window, emitting a dull thud.
“Open this damn door.”
“As I said—”
Agent Mancuso got out of the elevator and marched toward them, already flashing a badge. “Agent Mancuso, FBI,” she said. “We need to talk to Gracie Durham right now.”
The doctor blinked. “As I told the officer, Gracie Durham is—”
“This is a federal investigation, Doctor. A girl’s life is in danger.”
He hesitated. “Very well,” he said eventually. “But only five minutes. Room 309.” He walked to a panel nearby and input a four-digit code. The door clicked open.
“As long as it takes, Doctor,” Agent Mancuso said, pulling the door open and walking through it. Hannah hurried after her.
“It’s handy, having that badge around,” she said, half-running to keep up with the tall woman.
“It has its uses.”
They reached Gracie Durham’s room and opened the door. The room was beige and cheerless. Gracie, white as paper, lay on a hospital bed with an IV running to her arm. She wore a green hospital gown and was half-covered by a thin blanket. A single fake potted plant stood on a small night table by her bed; it was the only decoration. Her mother sat by her side on a light brown chair, jaw clenched, holding Gracie’s hand.
“Mrs. Durham, we need to ask your daughter some questions,” Agent Mancuso said.
The woman nodded, sniffling. “Of course,” she said. Hannah could see in her eyes that Gracie had already told her something. Something that had a deep impact.
“Gracie, my name is Christine, and this is Hannah,” the agent said. “Would you mind if we ask you some questions?”
The girl shook her head.
“Do you know where Abigail is?”
The girl shook her head again. “Some people took her,” she said, whispering. “People in black masks.”
Hannah felt as if a bee had crawled down the back of her neck. Abigail had been kidnapped.
“Please tell us what happened,” Agent Mancuso said.
“We were in the playground,” the girl whispered, her voice tiny, barely audible. “And we were just going home when a man showed up. A man in a… a black mask. We ran, and he chased us. Then another man joined him. He also wore a mask. They got Abby. I ran away.” She stopped.
“What happened then?” The agent leaned forward, her stance indicating that a series of questions was about to follow. Hannah let her take the lead.
“I don’t remember.”
“Are you sure there were two men?”
“Yes.”
“Can you describe them?”
Gracie shook her head.
“What were they wearing besides the mask?”
“Dark outfits, I think. I don’t really remember.”
“Did you see where they took Abigail?”
“I think there was a van… but I didn’t see them taking her, I was running away… I don’t know.”
“What kind of masks?”
“Ski masks.”
“Can you describe the van?”
Gracie shook her head again.
“Was it white? Blue? Red?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know!” she said, her voice louder. Tears trickled down her cheeks. “I don’t know!”
“Please, she doesn’t know any more,” Karen Durham said, agitated. “She’s just a little girl.”
So was Abigail. And she had been kidnapped. Hannah turned toward Karen. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Durham, but even the smallest detail could help us find Abigail. We need to ask these questions, and we need to do it now.”
“But—”
“What were you doing there, Gracie?” Hannah asked, ignoring the distraught mother. “What were you doing in the park?”
Eyes wide, bottom lip quivering, Gracie looked at her mother.
“You’re not in any kind of trouble, Gracie,” Hannah said. “But we need you to answer truthfully. It would help us find your friend.”
“We were going to meet Noel.” Gracie stared at her blanket, her voice timid. “Abby’s boyfriend.”
“What is Noel’s full name?” Agent Mancuso asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Where can we find him?”
“I don’t know. I have no idea where he lives.”
“How long have he and Abigail been together?”
“Two, three weeks, I guess,” she said. She seemed to be getting drowsy. “It’s hard to tell. I mean… it’s not like they went on a date or anything.”
“How did they meet?” Hannah asked.
“They started chatting online,” Gracie said, her head sinking into her white pillow. “It was a while ago.”
“Do you know what he looks like?”
“Yes. Abby showed me a picture he sent her.”
“A picture? Did she ever meet him before?”
The girl didn’t answer. Her eyes were closed, and she breathed deeply.
“Gracie,” Hannah said, shaking the girl by her arm. “Gracie.”
Gracie let out a whimper.
“Leave her alone!” Karen snarled, her timidness melting away.
“Gracie!” Hannah said loudly. “This is important! Had she ever met Noel face-to-face before?”
“No,” Gracie muttered, her eyes still shut. “Tonight was the first time they were supposed to meet.”
“And did he show up?�
�
The girl didn’t respond, but Hannah knew what the answer was. She could see Agent Mancuso knew as well.
He didn’t. He probably never existed.
Abigail was shivering. She had wet herself when the rough arms pulled her into the van, the urine drenching her leggings. Now the fabric was soggy and freezing. Her legs throbbed from the cold and itched where the leggings clung to her. She tried rubbing her legs against each other, but that only made it worse, and she whimpered in despair. She wished she could take the damn things off for just a moment, but she couldn’t. Her arms were tied behind her back.
She could see nothing; she was surrounded by blackness. When they’d put her there, she had seen that it was a gray room with a chair and a small mattress, on which they dumped her. Then they closed the door, and she was plunged into darkness. Sometimes she thought she could see the outline of the chair, but she wasn’t sure if she was imagining it or not. At one point, she felt as if dozens of figures crowded around her, getting closer and closer. She screamed herself hoarse into the rag that had been shoved in her mouth, and then realized it was only her imagination. There was no one there with her. She was alone.
She wanted her mom. She wanted Gracie. She wanted someone to be with her, to tell her it would be all right. At home, she always slept with a small night light on. She wasn’t a little girl—she wasn’t afraid of monsters—but the light was reassuring when she woke up in the middle of the night. She was desperate for a small light, a tiny light.
She had cried and begged into the rag, not knowing if anyone heard her. She felt as if she were choking, the mucus and tears clogging up her nose, the rag in her mouth blocking her only other airway. Then she blew hard and one nostril opened. She could feel the slimy touch of her mucus on her face, and she rubbed it against the mattress, wiping some of it off, smearing the rest.
Her parents would find her, or the police would. In all the books she had read, all the TV shows she had seen, the cops found the bad guys or the kids managed to escape.
Except…
A few months before, when her parents were out, she’d seen a movie on TV. It was late at night, and she wasn’t supposed to watch it. It was rated TV-MA, and she had just turned twelve. But it had seemed so exciting, and she figured she was old enough to decide for herself. Kids in class always boasted about watching horror movies, or even adult-only clips online, and she wanted to boast as well.
