Page 128 of Denial
Unit 7,copy a call.The dispatcher’s disembodied voice comes across my radio.
I pick up the dash-mounted radio and speak into the mic. “Unit 7, go ahead.”
Report of a lost child, approximately seven to eight years old, crying. Caller states they found the child at Evergreen Park near Ninth and Boone. Unable to locate parent. No signs of injury. Caller is staying on scene.
“Unit 7, copy. En route.”
I turn my cruiser in that direction. The radio crackles again.
Unit 7, additional: child is female, brown hair, wearing a pink tank top and black shorts, crying specifically for Mom.
“Copy,” I reply. Missing children, or in this case, missing parents, are some of my least favorite calls, but the men and women I work with are good at their jobs, and I drive to the location with hope for a swift reunification.
Droplets begin to splatter lightly across my windshield. I pop on my wipers. As I pull up to the park, I see the bystanderwith the girl on the sidewalk. She’s down on one knee trying to console a clearly inconsolable child.
I pick up my mic. “Dispatch, Unit 7 on scene.”
Copy, Unit 7 on scene.”
I set the mic down and open my door, preparing to stay calm and controlled. But when I open my door and look beyond the rain splatter, my stomach drops straight out of my body. The blood in my veins turns to ice.
“Eleanor.” Her name isn’t so much a question as a statement of shock. I stride forward, intent on closing the distance, but Nellie sees me and takes off running in my direction.
“Daddy!” The scream that rents the air is unimaginable. The most gut-wrenching sound I’ve ever heard from my child. One I desperately never want to hear again. The sound of it alone makes me want to tear apart the earth with my own two hands.
I meet her halfway, bending down as she slams into me at full speed. I hoist her up and into my arms where she tucks her face securely in my neck. Sobs shake her entire body as she hyperventilates against my chest.
I don’t waste time getting the story. I click on my mic at my shoulder, fighting to remain controlled.
“Dispatch, I need backup now. Evergreen Park at Ninth and Boone,” I bark.
Copy, Unit 7 requesting priority backup. All units, stand by. Any available unit respond to Evergreen Park at Ninth and Boone.
Despite my training, I click the mic again. “Sher, it’s my daughter. Get my brother, Captain, Marlowe, Calloway. Get everybody.” My throat grows tight, and I have to stop to swallow. “Get everybody here,” I rasp.
Copy, Unit 7. We’re all here for you.
I carry Nellie straight to my car. I open the back door and set her on the hard seat, wishing it were softer. Her grip clamps down around my neck, refusing to let go.
“I’m not going anywhere. Breathe with me, honey.”
Her body bucks against mine. “Th-Th-They t-t-took h-h-her!” she wails in my ear. The pain in her voice nearly unveils my barely controlled fury.
“Can you describe them for me? What did they look like?”
A cruiser with its lights on screeches to a stop behind mine. I don’t need to look to know it’s my brother. Nobody else would get here as fast. Not when it’s his niece in trouble.
“I-It was a man. An old one a-and a young o-one.”
Silas crouches down beside me. “That’s good, Nell-Bell. Can you tell me what color hair they had?” he asks, his voice gentle. Underneath, I hear the vibrating current of fury present in my own.
“Black.” She hiccups. “And white. But not like d-daddy. It’s all white like snow.”
My hand strokes soothingly up and down her spine as her sobs begin to subside. Silas and I share a look over her head.
The one with black hair is Lanighan. It has to be. But who the fuck is this other guy, and what does he want with Alice?
“Lanighan’s father or another relative?” Silas asks.
