Frank Zafiro: Heroes Often Fail

Kathy Dugger eyed him closely. “Oh my God,” she said, realization setting in. “Oh my God! Is my baby all right?”

“Ma’am-”

“Just tell me what’s happened to my baby!” Kathy demanded.

Gio bit the inside of his lip. “It’s possible she’s missing.”

Kathy let out a guttural cry and brought her hands to her face. The grocery bags toppled to the floor. Gio heard the cracking sound of thick glass breaking. The sharp odor of pickles wafted up from the bags.

“Oh, no…” Kathy moaned, and took a staggering step backward.

Gio moved forward, grabbing her by the upper arms. “Easy,” he said. “Easy.”

“My little girl,” she sobbed, falling into Gio’s chest.

Gio held her close for a moment. Then he shifted her body so that he could support her with one arm. With his free hand, he reached for his radio.

“Adam-257,” he said in a thick voice. “Broadcast that information now, please.”

Kathy Dugger’s muffled sobs shook through his chest. Her hands grasped his uniform shirt and balled into tight fists.

Gio keyed his mike again. “And start the Chaplain to my location.”

1012 hours

Captain Michael Reott’s stomach rumbled, reminding him that he’d skipped breakfast. He looked at the clock and saw that it was still too early for lunch.

Oh, well. He could stand to lose a pound or three, anyway.

He reached for the small speakers behind his desk and ensured that both the north and south side radio channels were turned on. He usually kept a close ear on the goings on in patrol. He did it partially out of responsibility, since he was the Captain of Patrol, but mostly it was an indulgence for him. He actually missed working the street in a car and dealing with problems that cropped up.

Now, ironically, most of his involvement with patrol was limited to staff meetings, disciplinary issues, equipment purchasing and reports. Always reports. If the Chief didn’t need a report, then the Mayor did. If neither of them was in immediate need for some piece of information, then a city council member seemed to always be standing by, poised to fill the void and make their own request. Reott hated reports.

A voice came out of his small, north side speaker.

“Dispatch to all units. Prepare to copy information on possible abduction.”

Reott realized that the transmission had come out of both speakers. It was a city-wide broadcast. He put his pen down and waited, listening intently.

“All units, continuing on possible abduction. Six-year-old female taken from the area of 4300 N. Arlene Street. Victim is last of Dugger, first of Amy. Three feet tall, forty-two pounds, with dark hair, shoulder length.”

Reott’s eyes widened. Why hadn’t he heard about this?

”Suspect vehicle is a dark blue or brown full-size van, unknown plate. Driver is large black male. Suspect is Hispanic male in a white tank-top or undershirt, jeans and a black ski mask. Suspect has a large tattoo of a spider on the inside of his left elbow. Nothing further at this time.”

Reott slammed his fist down on his desk. That goddamn Lieutenant Hart should have called him about this! The Captain picked up the phone and started to dial Hart’s office, then slammed the receiver down on the cradle.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

He picked the telephone up again and dialed directly into Dispatch.

1014 hours

Kathy Dugger was frantic.

“What I want to know,” she said to Gio in barely controlled tones, “is what you people are doing to find my daughter.”

“Everything we can, Mrs. Dugger,” Gio said. “I have Officer Stone checking the school and the neighborhood right now.”

“According to you, she’s not in the neighborhood or at the school. She’s in some man’s fucking van!”

“We’re not sure of that,” Gio told her. “When you’re dealing with young children, there’s a certain procedure we need to go through.”

“Procedure? Procedure!” Kathy Dugger’s voice was shrill. “My daughter is missing and you’re talking to me about procedure?”

Gio winced inside, but forced himself to nod. “Yes. I have to.”

“Why?”

Because my lieutenant is a complete idiot.

“The procedure is in place, Ma’am, because it has been successful in the past. Now, our intention is to find Amy and find her as quickly as possible. But I need you calm. And I need your help.”

Kathy stared at him long and hard, as if she were searching out the truth in his eyes. He did his best to appear trustworthy.

“All right,” she said.

“Thank you,” Gio told her. “Now, if Amy were to hide somewhere in this house, where would she hide?”

“In the house?”

“Yeah. Sometimes kids will hide and then fall asleep while they’re waiting to be found.”

“Are you saying this whole thing is a hoax?”

“No. But we can’t rule it out until we know for sure.”

Kathy drew a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s look. I’ll help.”

Together, they hurried from room to room, calling Amy’s name and searching. Kathy seemed to cringe every time Gio’s voice boomed out the child’s name, but after a short time, she added her own voice to the calls. In almost every room, Gio thought of places to check for the child that Kathy overlooked. She gave him a surprised look when he pried up a floor vent and shined his flashlight into the duct-work, but she said nothing. He got the feeling she was slowly beginning to trust him.

Mid-way through the search, Chaplain Timothy Marshall arrived. The middle-aged man was adorned in casual slacks and a long-sleeved denim shirt that bore a sewn-in badge and the word “Chaplain” above the opposite breast pocket.

Gio paused in his search to introduce the two. Kathy Dugger held out her hand. Chaplain Marshall took it and covered it with his own. He didn’t say a word, but even Gio found some solace in the warmth of his quiet features. New tears formed in Kathy’s eyes.

After a few moments, Chaplain Marshall asked if he could help with the search. The threesome resumed looking for Amy in what Gio knew would likely be a fruitless effort. Fifteen minutes later, a little sweatier and dirtier, they returned to the kitchen. As he expected, there had been no sign of Amy.

“What now?” she asked him.

“Other than the school, where else might Amy hide? Someplace she plays, maybe. Or another friend.”

Kathy paused, thinking. “I can call a few of her friends. I’d expect them to call if Amy just showed up, though.”

“That’d be great. Is there anywhere else she likes to play?”

“Just the school. And Kendra’s.”

“Are you sure?”

Kathy started to nod, then stopped. “Unless maybe she went to Fairy Castle.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Fairy Castle,” she told him. “Jill told me about it once over coffee. It’s just a little dirt cave some kids dug into a pile of dirt in the empty lot over on Stevens.”

“She plays there?”

“No!” she said. When she realized how sharply she’d spoken, she glanced at the Chaplain, almost in apology. Then she softened her voice and explained. “No, I told her she couldn’t play there. It was too dangerous. Plus, it was dirty. But she and Kendra thought it was a wonderful, secret place, and…”

Gio brought his radio to his lips. “Adam-257 to Adam-256.”

“Go ahead,” answered Jack Stone.

“There’s an empty lot on Stevens near here. You know which one I mean?”

“Affirm. It’s at Longfellow.”

Gio nodded. “There’s a dirt mound there overgrown with weeds. I need you to check it for a small cave that some kids dug out.”