Chapter 2 - Shadows of Neglect
The heavy duffel bag whickered through the air, but Daniel knocked it aside with his forearm without breaking his forward momentum. The intruder sprinted down the narrow, dimly lit hallway, his heavy work boots hammering against the floor.
However, the man's haste proved to be his undoing. His boots hit a patch of wet linoleum near the bathroom, slick from rainwater tracked in from the broken kitchen window. He lost his footing entirely, skidded sideways, and slammed shoulder-first into the drywall with a muffled groan.
Before the intruder could regain his balance, Daniel closed the distance and tackled him into the carpeted living room.
The weight of the officer brought both men down hard. A heavy steel screwdriver the intruder had been holding skidded across the floor and disappeared under the couch. The suspect swore loudly, twisting his body frantically to buck free from Daniel's grip. But panic made his movements clumsy and predictable. Daniel pinned the man’s upper back with a heavy knee, dragged his left arm around behind his back, and secured a steel cuff to his wrist. Within five seconds, both wrists were securely bound behind his back.
"Wrong house tonight, pal," Daniel panted, ratcheting the cuffs tight.
"I didn't steal nothing! You got the wrong guy!" the intruder growled, slamming his forehead against the floor in frustration.
Olivia stepped through the doorway, her sidearm held at ready as she swept the rest of the lower floor. "House is clear," she reported, re-holstering her weapon as the front door swung open. Two backup officers burst through the entrance with flashlights raised, taking custody of the struggling suspect.
While the backup team hauled the screaming burglar out to a transport unit, Olivia and Daniel stepped back outside into the torrential rain. Olivia walked back to the cruiser, where the heater was running at full blast. She opened the rear door to check on Lily.
The little girl was buried under two wool police blankets, clutching her wet teddy bear so tightly her knuckles were white. The paramedics were kneeling beside the open door, checking her small feet for cuts from the broken kitchen glass and testing her core body temperature.
"She's mild hypothermic, but no severe cuts," the paramedic reported, looking up at Olivia. "She needs warm clothes and a secure environment, Officer."
Olivia knelt in the door frame, softening her voice to a gentle purr. "You did great tonight, Lily. The bad man is gone. He's in handcuffs and he's going to jail."
Lily looked down at the bear in her lap, her blue eyes wide and glossy with lingering fear. "I didn't know if you'd stop when I threw the rock."
"We will always stop for you," Olivia promised softly.
Lily looked straight into Olivia's eyes. "My mom told me never to talk to strangers. She said if I talk to strangers, bad things happen."
Olivia let out a small, sad sigh. "Tonight was a very good time to ignore your mom's rule."
Daniel walked up, wiping water off his forehead with the back of his hand. As he approached, Lily's tiny body instantly went rigid with anxiety. She shrank back into the seat.
"That him?" Olivia asked, gesturing toward the police car down the street where the suspect was being loaded.
Lily nodded once without looking up, her voice barely audible. "Yes. That's the man."
Once the suspect vehicle pulled away and the crime scene technicians began tape-roping the perimeter, Olivia stepped back into the rear seat of her cruiser, closing the door to block out the roaring storm. It was time for the question she had been trying to avoid asking.
"Lily," Olivia began gently, "where is your mom right now?"
The girl went completely silent. She stared at the rubber floor mat of the cruiser, her small fingers twisting the wet ear of her teddy bear.
Olivia waited patiently, letting the silence stretch without pushing too hard.
Finally, Lily whispered, "She told me to go to sleep before she left."
"Did she go to work? Is she working a night shift at a hospital or an office?"
Lily shook her head slowly. "No. She doesn't work at night."
"Then where did she go, sweetheart?"
Lily's fingers tightened until her nails turned white against the wet plush toy. "Mark's house."
Olivia felt a cold drop of dread form in her stomach. "Who is Mark?"
Lily looked up at Olivia, her eyes completely clear, totally devoid of guile, explaining a reality far too mature for a seven-year-old child. "She goes there when my dad is away. My dad works overseas on big buildings. Mom says I'm supposed to be fast asleep, so when she leaves, it doesn't count as being alone."
Olivia felt a wave of profound disgust wash over her. It wasn't just the fact that the child's mother was having an affair while her husband was away working to support the family. It was the fact that she was leaving a primary-school-aged child completely abandoned in an unlocked, unmonitored home in the middle of the night just to facilitate her personal trysts.
Olivia unclipped her shoulder microphone and stepped outside into the rain, shutting the cruiser door so Lily wouldn't hear her voice.
"Dispatch, notify Child Protective Services immediately. Send an investigator to our scene," Olivia ordered, her tone icy and clipped. "And keep dialing the mother's cellular phone until she answers."
It took five calls before Laura Anderson finally picked up.
When the call was patched through to Olivia's hand radio, Laura's voice sounded heavy with sleep, deeply annoyed, and completely lacking any sense of urgency.
"Hello? Who is this? Why are you calling me at this hour?" Laura demanded over the static line.
"Mrs. Anderson, this is Officer Olivia Price with the Portland Police Department," Olivia said, standing under the pouring rain. "Your seven-year-old daughter was involved in a violent home invasion at your residence tonight. Where are you currently located?"
A long, heavy pause hung on the line.
"I'm... I'm driving home right now," Laura claimed, her voice suddenly losing its sleepy edge and shifting into defensive caution.
Olivia looked back through the wet glass of her cruiser, watching Lily wrap herself tighter in the heavy police blanket.
"No, Mrs. Anderson," Olivia said coldly. "Where are you really?"
Another long silence stretched over the cellular connection. When Laura spoke again, her tone shifted completely—shifting into a breathless, offended performance of maternal outrage. "I only stepped out for a little while to run a quick errand! What right do you have to question me?"
"Your 'little while' ended with your seven-year-old daughter running barefoot down a pitch-black street in a freezing rainstorm, throwing a rock through my patrol car's windshield to escape an armed burglar inside your house," Olivia snapped back. "Get back to your residence immediately."
Forty minutes passed before a sleek black sedan pulled up to the police tape.
Laura Anderson stepped out onto the wet asphalt wearing high-heeled shoes, a designer black trench coat pulled over an expensive silk evening dress, and smelling heavily of expensive perfume, red wine, and damp leather. She took in the scene with wide, panicked eyes—the flashing red and blue strobe lights, the broken kitchen window, the floodlights, the police units, and the ambulance.
Then, her eyes landed on Lily sitting in the back of the cruiser.
May you like
Olivia watched Laura's face carefully, looking for the natural reaction of a loving mother: the uncontrollable panic, the flood of tears, the immediate rush to touch and hold her endangered child.
Instead, all Olivia saw was cold, rapid calculation.
