Turning Point

by Lara Zielinsky

  He was gone only a few seconds when there was another knock. Leaving the form on the desk, Brenna stood quickly and opened the door. Jessie stood outside. “Yes?”

  “There are two boys at the desk who say that their mom’s back here.”

  “That’d be my sons.”

  “I don’t want to let them back here,” Jessie explained. “Could you come out front?”

  “All right. Just a minute.” Brenna closed the door and turned around. Cassidy’s forehead rested in her left palm as she bent her elbow against the wood laminate surŹface. “Cassidy, I’m going out to talk to Thomas and James. Maybe they’ve found something.”

  The blonde stopped in the midst of lifting the form to read it over. Brenna

  could tell from the line of tension in Cassidy’s back that the other woman was barely holding herself together. Tears of empathy pricked her eye.s. Not questioning, just knowing she needed to do so, Brenna tucked her arms around the younger woman’s shoulders and pressed her cheek against the top of the blond head. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

  Cassidy turned in her arms suddenly and wrapped her arms around Brenna’s waist, startling her when Brenna felt a cheek press against her breas.ts. “Oh God…” Tears dampened Brenna’s stomach through her thin shirt.

  “I know. Oh, I know.” Brenna spoke against Cassidy’s hair and brushed her finŹgers through the soft locks. Instinctively, she pressed a kiss to the top of Cassidy’s head and then reluctantly pulled away, crouching a little to catch Cassidy’s gaze. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”

  “Thank you.” Cassidy wrapped her arms around the back of the chair, resting her chin on the top edge for a moment before drawing a deep breath and turning back to the form. “I’d better look at this.”

  “You might want to wait,” Brenna suggested ruefully. “It’s probably more of a liability protection for the store than an incident statement for the police report.” She left Cassidy looking at the form, her gaze scanning the text dubiously.

  Brenna found her sons pacing at the service desk. “Hey,” she drew their attenŹtion.

  “Mom!” James rushed up as she stepped from behind the counter. “We’ve got to get the police.”

  “They’ve already been called,” she assured him. “What’d you find?” she asked, dropping her voice as she caught glances from other patrons around them.

  “We don’t know. Out back there’s a loading dock, and a big hole compacting the boxes and stuff.”

  Brenna drew a deep breath. “Any signs that Ryan was there?”

  “Not that we can tell.” Thomas shook his head when she shot her gaze up to his. “I called for him, but we can’t see anything.”

  A commotion drew Brenna’s attention to the store entrance. “Good, they’re here. I want you to show the police where you were. We only need one to talk to Cassidy in the office.” She nudged both boys over to the officers and introduced herŹself.

  “We’re here about a missing child report. Where’s the mother?”

  Brenna checked the officer’s badge. “Lieutenant Taylor, the mother is in the manager’s office. My boys have been looking for her son and have a place they’d like your men to check first.”

  “We need a statement from the mother.”

  “Listen, it’s a trash compactor that’s open in the back,” she said firmly. “I’ll take one of you to meet with Ms. Hyland, but I want someone to check out that compacŹtor.”

  The officer waved over his partner. “Murph, you, Jefferson, and Maxwell go with these kids. I’m going to talk to the mother.”

  Murph, whose badge read “Sgt. Murphy”, nodded his dark head. “Got it. Okay, boys, lead the way.”

  Thomas and James guided Sergeant Murphy through the store. When curious

  onlookers startcd crowding them, the other two officers behind started running interference, urging people back from the threesome.

  “So, how long has the kid been missing?” Murphy asked.

  “We’ve been looking for at least an hour,” Thomas supplied. “This way.” He turned at the end of an aisle and stopped at the back storage area. “The loading dock is through here.”

  With Murphy, the two boys stepped out onto to the loading dock, and Thomas pointed to the left. “You think he might’ve fallen down there?” the sergeant asked.

  “We couldn’t see anything,” Thomas said. His brother pressed up against his back and peered over his shoulder.

  “We’ll check it out. Now, get back. Maxwell,” he called to one of the other officŹers. “I need your light.”

  “Yes, Sergeant.” Immediately one of the officers stripped a long black tube flashlight off his belt and crossed to where Murphy was dropping to his stomach. “What’cha got?”

  “Kid maybe fell in here.” He waved the light to his right. “Shine it down there. Straight down.”

  The tube was long, going deeper into the ground than the four-foot drop to the surface of the truck driveway. The light only bit faintly at the shadows, illuminating not much more than nothing. Murphy rolled over and sat up. “We’re going to have to get down to the other end of this thing. Open it up where they pick out the pieces for the trash pickup.”

  “I’ll find a clerk who knows the way.” James was off and running before any of the officers could stop him.

  Murphy wiped his hands on his uniform pants as he stood. “Let’s take the stairs down. Maybe we can get to the room without a clerk’s help.”

  Thomas tagged along because frankly he did not want to face his mother withŹout the officers, especially if the news wasn’t going to be good. He was tired enough to contemplate the worst.

  They found a set of short stairs that led to the basement level and a series of storage rooms. Pressing his ear to one, Officer Murphy heard the whir of gears and immediately stepped back. The doorknob turned in his hand, and he shoved inward, shining Maxwell’s flashlight around the dark room.

  The far wall was dominated by a set of metal doors. Another officer behind him located a light switch. Flipping off the flashlight, Murphy tossed it back to MaxŹwell, who returned it to his belt. “AH right, let’s open it up.”

  They checked the latch mechanism and slipped the restraining pole from the catches. The doors swung wide. The officers jumped back out of the way as bits of boxes spilled out, littering the floor around their feet.

  “Okay, start digging around.”

  Thomas looked at the mess. “He can’t be in there, can he?”

  Murphy, who had begun digging in the darkness of the bin’s interior, looked over at him suddenly. “Kid, you better get out. We’ll do this.” The teen’s shoulders slumped. Murphy left off his task for just a moment, crossing the room. He laid a big hand on the slender shoulder. “You did a hell of a job. You don’t have any worries. You did everything right.”

  “Well, I…I’ll just be outside then.”

  “Go on back to your mom. Catch that brother of yours if you run across him and sit tight.”

  He opened the door to show Thomas out and glanced out into the corridor.

  “On second thought, make sure no one else comes down here cept the ambulance when it arrives.”

  “You’re calling one? Even if…” Thomas blinked. “I know. I know. Think posiŹtive.”

  The officer thumped Thomas across the shoulder. “Got the right attitude. Now, go on.”

  Thomas ran to the stairs and halfway up before he just stopped, sat down, and took a deep breath to calm himself.

  On the first floor, another pair of patrolmen worked to clear the store before the ambulance team arrived. “All right, everyone, time to go. Sorry for the inconveŹnience, but we need order here.”

  “KTLA News.” A middle-aged man in a staid suit and tie, microphone in hand, pressed forward through the crowd. “We heard on the scanner there’s a missing kid. Possible accident?”

  The officer right next to him groaned and turned his back. Over his shoulder, he ordered, “Outside. You’ll have an
update as soon as we do.”

  The reporter shrugged off the hands of the crowd pushing at his shoulders. “Just point out the manager.”

  The manager, with Cassidy and Brenna, stepped out of his office at that moment, with Officer Taylor.

  Yelling past the policeman’s blocking shoulder, the reporter announced, “Don Deering, KTLA News! Which of you is the mother of the missing boy?”

  Cassidy’s head shot toward the voice when she heard “mother,” though she had been talking to Officer Taylor. Brenna beside her, grabbed her arm in warning. She turned toward her.

  “Ma’am, I want to talk to you!” Deering, his cameraman, and another reporter whose shirt was imprinted “KRDV Radio 940” shoved their way through the crowd.

  Lieutenant Taylor stepped in front of them. “You were ordered outside, gentleŹmen. Now move.”

  “How long has the child been missing? Do you suspect foul play? What’s the expectation here?” Both reporters peppered Taylor with questions, occasionally glancing toward the two women making their way with the manager back into the safety of his office.

  Taylor grabbed the radio reporter’s lapels and picked him up. “No questions until this situation reaches a resolution. Now,” addressing both reporters he added, “do I move you, or you remove yourselves?”

  The reporters and cameraman retreated to the open doorway of the store, camŹera lenses trained on the interior, focused on the back of the retreating officer.

  “We’re here at Sports Warehouse where the grand opening celebration has been marred by the disappearance of a child. More details as they unfold. Stay with KTLA, your team in the city.” He motioned to his cameraman. “All right, Randy. Cut. Let’s check the crowd and see if anyone’s seen anything.”

  The reporter and cameraman mingled, chatting up the gathering crowd. “AnyŹone know what’s up inside?” Deering asked nonchalantly.

  “Missing kid got himself stuck in a hole out back of the store, I heard. Saw the cops heading out that way as we were coming out.”

  “Out back, you say?”

  “Yep, I was by the service desk when the redhead told that officer to check out

  the trash compactor,”

  “A trash compactor?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No kidding.” Decring got a gleam in his eyes.

  “What’s the press doing here?” Cassidy whispered to Brenna as they grasped hands, stepping back into the manager’s office.

  “You can always count on them showing up.” Brenna studied Cassidy’s face with concern. “How are you doing?”

  “Tired. Worried. No, scratch that. Scared to death. I’m really glad I’ve got a friendly face in all this.” Cassidy gave her hand a quick squeeze. “Thank you. The officer’s questions were unnerving.”

  “Just remember, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I let him out of my sight in a crowded store. Whatever happens is my fault.”

  Brenna patted Cassidy’s shoulder. Leaving her hand there a moment, she spoke softly into Cassidy’s ear. “We’re parents, Cass. We’re not perfect. Just keep positive. We’ll hear something soon.”

  The musical interlude from Eine Kleine Nachtmusik suddenly erupted between them, scaring both women into jerking apart. The refrain sounded again, and Cassidy reached for her belt and the cell phone attached there. “Hello?” she said timŹidly into the mouthpiece. “Cameron?” she said faintly, then looked at Brenna. “I…hold on.” She covered the receiver with her hand. “Brenna?”

  “Do you want me to talk to him?”

  Lieutenant Taylor saw her with the phone. “Who is that?”

  “A friend of hers,” Brenna answered.

  “We’re having enough trouble with the crowds here. Don’t bring anybody else onto the property.”

  “But…”

  “No. Tell whoever whatever you want, but we’ve got enough problems. Already we’re having trouble bringing up the ambulance.”

  Brenna frowned. “Where is Cameron? I could go get him.”

  Cassidy’s “He’s at my house” was almost lost under the policeman’s emphatic words, “If you leave, you’re not coming back inside, lady.”

  Brenna pursed her lips, itching to retort. She left the choice up to the person who mattered most at the center of this fiasco. She grasped the other woman’s arm, holding her attention. “What do you want to do, Cassidy?”

  “Don’t go. I’ll…he shouldn’t worry. I’d like you to stay.” Brenna nodded. Cassidy returned to the phone. “Cam, I got held up at the store for a bit longer than I thought. I’ll be there soon, I hope.” She absently shook her head at the phone; Brenna felt her hand gently squeezed as Cassidy continued to talk. “No. No, just wait there for me.”

  There was a long silence while Cassidy obviously listened to Cameron. Finally she murmured, “Bye,” cutting the connection with a firm snap of the receiver.

  There was a knock at the door, and Taylor opened it. “Murph.”

  The officer sent with her boys walked in, and Brenna stood up. “Sergeant?”

  “Your boys are resourceful,” he complimented. “We checked the compactor.”

  Cassidy rose quickly behind Brenna, her hand planting itself on the shorter woman’s shoulder. “Compactor? Just what exactly do you think happened to my son?”

  “Ma’am?”

  Lieutenant Taylor made the introductions. “Sergeant Donald Murphy, this is the boy’s mother, Ms. Cassidy Hyland. She and her friend and those boys looked for Ryan before we were called in.”

  “Well, Ms. Hyland, we were checking out the back loading area and the comŹpactor. We went down to open it up—”

  “Trash compactor? Show me.”

  Cassidy’s grip on Brenna’s shoulder started to hurt. Though understanding her friend’s anxiety, she peeled the long smooth fingers from her collarbone and grasped them, meeting scared blue eyes. Brenna spoke for them both. “Can we go with you to the area?”

  “Nothing there. That’s good news.”

  Sharply, she corrected him. “The boy is still missing. Good news will be when he’s found.”

  “I…well, yeah, of course, I just meant…”

  “Come on, Cassidy.”

  Sergeant Murphy looked to his superior, who shrugged. “I…It can’t hurt, I guess. All right.” He watched the blonde straighten her shoulders, and he stepped back, half into the hallway. “You know. You’re familiar somehow. I…” He caught a glint of steel in the redhead’s eyes as he tried to recall. The two of them together clicked in his head. He looked back at the missing child’s mother. “Shit, you’re from the television.”

  The two women were just passing him, entering the corridor to leave the CusŹtomer Service desk. The blurted words drew significant attention from the photograŹphers gathered outside, being held back physically by other officers. The two women dropped their eyes away from the burst of shouted questions and distant flashes.

  “Are we looking at a kidnapping, sir?” Murphy asked his superior. “We didn’t find any sign that the kid had been near the compactor.”

  Taylor shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. But I didn’t expect we’d be dealŹing with celebrities,” he confided as the women moved quickly, now with a pair of officers ahead and behind, toward the back of the mostly empty store.

  Chapter 11

  Brenna followed a step behind, letting Cassidy work out some of her anxiety as they strode quickly through the store. Still, she cautioned, “We don’t have to do this.”

  Cassidy turned and stopped. “I have to know. I have to see it for myself.”

  “They said he wasn’t there.”

  “Maybe he was…for a moment. I just have to look.”

  It was the anguish plainly shown that made Brenna concede. “All right.”

  They entered the loading dock with the officers who pointed out the compacŹtor shaft. Cassidy stepped close but stopped just before she could look down. “Bren.”

  Brenna was instantl
y at the other woman’s side, her hand reaching out as Cassidy’s reached back. “I’m here.”

  As their fingers slid together, Cassidy took a steadying breath. “Thank you.”

  “I told you he wasn’t in there,” Murphy said, coming up beside them.

  Still holding Brenna’s hand, Cassidy looked around the floor and noticed a small red object. She bent and picked it up. It was a small Lego piece, like the ones her son kept in his pockets despite her attempts to get him to leave them in the car or in the house.

  “What’d you find?” Brenna asked, peering around Cassidy’s shoulder.

  “It’s a Lego,” she said quietly. “He was here.” She squeezed the plastic bit hard in her hand and closed her eyes. “He was here.”

  Looking down the shaft, she shivered. Her eyes scanned the edge of the loading dock, and she backed up suddenly. Brenna grasped her hand, trying to stop her.

  “He isn’t down there, Cassidy. Have faith.”

  Cassidy stumbled into a pile of boxes along the back wall of the loading dock. The stack was upset when she tried to right herself. A childish yell sounded from elsewhere in the pyramid of cardboard. The officers leaped together into the debris before Cassidy or Brenna could scramble to their feet.

  Boxes flew everywhere. Someone hollered, “Got him!” One of the officers rose from the floor, kicking away cardboard and holding Ryan aloft. He was mussed and crying.

  She dropped to her knees weakly. “Ryan!”

  They brought him over to her, and she sat with him on the floor, hugging him and crying. Brenna crouched over her shoulder, steadily rubbing it. Ryan tried to pull free, at the same time pulling at his mother’s neck and hair and crying. Brenna’s hand brushed over his head soothingly. She brushed at her own wet cheeks and leaned in, pressing a kiss to Cassidy’s cheek in her relief.

  Thomas and James raced up, and the officers let them through. In aggravation, Thomas started, “Where in the hell—” A sharp look from his mother tempered his tongue, and he finished more calmly, “Where’d you find him?”