Shirlee McCoy - Lone Witness

“I know,” he replied.

“She’ll be okay. She looks good. Vitals great. Heart rate, respiration, oxygen, all of it normal. You can have my seat, if you’d like to hold her hand. Sometimes, that makes parents feel better.”

He knew that.

He’d witnessed it firsthand with the parents of the girls who’d been kidnapped and returned. He’d stood in hospital rooms, asking questions as delicately as he could while they clutched the hands of the children they’d almost lost forever. Eventually, the perp might change his MO. Eventually, the girls might not be returned. He and his colleagues suspected the kidnappings were part of a child-pornography ring, and they were desperate to shut it down.

They would shut it down.

Not just because Everly had nearly been taken, but because every child deserved to have a safe and carefree childhood. He couldn’t change all the evils in the world, but he could change some of them. For as long as he could, for as many years as he was allowed, that was what he planned to do.

“Thanks. I’ll probably do that after I take the call I’m waiting on.” He smiled, because he knew his voice and tone were gruff. He felt raw and ripped open, his emotions exposed in a way he wasn’t used to.

“Sounds good.” She returned his smile and picked up a paperback, burying her nose in it as he closed the door.

The hospital was taking every precaution.

The local police were doing the same.

Henry appreciated that. He appreciated the fact that Everly was okay. She hadn’t been harmed. She’d have no memory of being kidnapped, no residual fear or trauma to recover from.

He still wished he’d been more careful. He’d known the security at his in-laws’ house was lacking. He had known the windows were old. He had also known that a serial kidnapper was on the loose targeting girls his daughters’ age.

But he had not thought it could happen to his family. He hadn’t wanted to believe that tragedy would strike twice in one lifetime. That God would allow him to suffer again. Not the way he had when Diane died.

He hadn’t prepared, and he hadn’t planned. He had almost paid the price for that. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

His phone rang, and he answered it, his voice terse. “Miller here.”

“This is not your fault,” his supervisor, Wren Santino, said, her tone brisk and business-like.

“When did you become a mind reader?” he replied, pacing a few feet from the room and then back again. His in-laws were on the way. He’d asked them to bring Aria. He wanted to keep both girls as close as possible until the perp was caught.

And he would be caught.

Henry had been able to provide a description of the Jeep. No plate number, but he was hopeful exterior security cameras at local businesses might offer more identifying features.

And then there was the witness.

Tessa Carlson. When she had disappeared from the scene, Henry had been afraid she might not be found. Fortunately, she worked at a Provincetown diner and everyone on the local police force seemed to know her. She had been easy to track down. He was hopeful she had been able to provide a description of the perpetrator.

“It doesn’t take a mind reader to know what you’re thinking,” Wren said. “According to the message you left, Everly was possibly drugged with midazolam. I’m sure you’re making the same connections I am.”

“What other connections are there?”

“It’s possible another drug was used. If that is the case, this may be the job of a copycat.”

“Copying what? Information about the kidnappings hasn’t been released to the public.”

“The public may not realize a serial kidnapper is on the loose, but the stories haven’t been kept quiet.”

“The information about the girls being drugged has,” he argued, because he knew in his gut that the man who’d attempted to take Everly was the same one who had kidnapped the other girls.

“I know, and I’m not saying you’re wrong in making these connections. I’m just saying we need confirmation before we can say anything with any certainty.”

“Agreed.” Because, that was the way investigations were run. Gather the facts rather than make assumptions based on hunches.

“Have you had a chance to speak with the witness?” Wren asked.

“Not yet. She has a head injury and is being treated. She did leave the scene after the police arrived. They had to track her to her place of employment.”

“That’s interesting.”

“If by interesting you mean suspicious, I agree.”

“You don’t think she was involved in the attempted kidnapping, do you?” Wren asked, the sudden sharpness in her voice letting him know that she was very interested in his answer.

He thought about the way Tessa had looked when she’d jumped out of the Jeep, with Everly held to her chest as she’d skidded across the pavement on her knees. She could have left his daughter behind. She had had no idea that he was following. “No, I don’t. But I think she’s hiding something.”

“If it’s not illegal, it’s none of our business.”

“Right now, my only business is making sure the guy who tried to kidnap my daughter is found and tossed in jail.”

“I understand. The team and I are standing behind you. We’ll do whatever it takes to make certain your girls stay safe and that the kidnapper is brought to justice. Jessica and I are on our way to Provincetown. We should be there in a couple of hours. See what you can get out of the witness before we arrive, okay? I’m curious to match her description with Jessica’s profile of the kidnapper.”

“Will do. I’ll give you the information I gather when you arrive,” he assured her.

“Great. See you soon, Henry.” She disconnected, and he slid the phone into his pocket, his gaze shifting to the end of the hall and the elevator doors that were opening.

His in-laws stepped out, Aria between them, mittened hands clutching theirs, her cheeks pink from the cold. She was a quieter version of her sister. Introspective and introverted, she tended to allow Everly to lead the way into new adventures. She would have been lost without her sister.

“Daddy!” she cried, breaking free and running toward him.

“Hey, munchkin!” he responded, lifting her and giving her a hug that might have been just a little too tight.

“I’m not a munchkin. I’m a young lady,” Aria corrected him, her expression somber and serious.

“Of course, you aren’t a munchkin. That’s just a figure of speech.”

“I know, but I wanted to remind you. Where’s Everly?” she asked. “Nana said she was at the hospital, but I didn’t believe her. Sister never gets sick.”

“You’re right. She doesn’t, but Nana never tells tales, either. Your sister really is here.” He set Aria on her feet and kissed her forehead.

“Why?” she asked, holding onto his hand and looking up into his face.

The girls were identical, their eyes the same shade of blue, their hair the same raven-black, but Aria was shorter and seemingly frailer, her scrawny frame currently hidden beneath layers of fabric and a heavy winter coat.

“She was sleeping a little too hard, and I got worried, so I brought her here,” he replied, trying to give her a response that would make sense to a not-quite six-year-old.

“That’s silly, Daddy,” she replied. “You always sleep too hard, and we don’t take you to the hospital.”

“Yes, but I’m not your sister. You know she barely ever sleeps, and when she does, she’s always easy to wake.”

“That’s true. Maybe, I should check on her. She’s probably scared,” she said with a frown.

“She’s still asleep, but you can see her.” He met his mother-in-law’s eyes. “I’m sure Nana and Pop-pop won’t mind bringing you in the room. I have a few things I need to take care of.”