nearby residential street and cried herself to sleep. A passerby spotted her and notified the police.
It had all been a mistake.
The girl was fine, unharmed and safely returned to her family. The man Erin had seen in the park had been selling ice cream. Nothing more, nothing less. Or so the authorities concluded.
Erin wasn’t so easily convinced.
There were too many questions left unanswered, too many leaps in logic the police had eagerly taken in order to tie everything up and mark the case closed. Like how a five-year-old little girl managed to get a mile from the park without some adult noticing her. Like Al Beckwith, who’d admitted handing over his ice-cream cart to another man, a friend of a friend, who’d paid him for its use for the day.
No, Beckwith didn’t know the man personally, nor did his description sound anything like Erin’s. Nor was he the first to rent out his cart in order to take an unofficial day off. And no, neither Beckwith nor the police had located or identified the man who’d borrowed the cart. He’d simply vanished.
Too many coincidences for Erin. Yet the police were okay with it.
Even Donovan had seemed satisfied, attempting to mollify her by claiming he’d check out Beckwith’s story once he got back to Baltimore. She didn’t believe him. Not that she thought he was lying, but he was in charge of the hunt for Cody Sanders, and that case would demand all his attention. Evidently, the only reason he’d become involved with the Chelsea Madden search was that he suspected a connection between the two cases.
That didn’t change what she knew. Or what she didn’t.
For instance, she might not know the details of how, but she believed Chelsea had been taken from the park, then abandoned.
Why?
Erin didn’t have a clue, but she had no doubt of the
who.
She didn’t know his name, and she suspected she didn’t even know what he really looked like, but she knew how he moved. Those quick hands, plucking coins from the air, too graceful and skilled for a simple playground magician. And she
would
recognize him again.
For now, though, she wanted sleep, which seemed to move deeper into hiding with each passing hour. She had a long day ahead of her tomorrow. Sunday was the day that she took Janie and Marta to visit Claire, and Erin needed a clear head to deal with her sister. Unfortunately, needing something and getting it weren’t always the same thing.
Finally, as the night ebbed toward morning, she resigned herself to the inevitable and got out of bed. She’d go out for an early run. Maybe if she physically exhausted herself, she could still get a couple of hours’ rest before going to see Claire.
It was still dark when she stepped outside. A light rain had fallen during the night, leaving the ground coated in a thin layer of mist. The cool air, with its promise of approaching fall, felt good against her skin. Invigorating. She skipped her warm-up walk and started off at a slow jog, feeling her muscles stretch and revive her blurry mind.
She passed silent streets, an air of expectancy hovering over them like the early morning weather. In another hour, the first stirrings of commerce would begin. The paperboys and street cleaners would emerge, the corner bakery would lift its shades, and early weekend workers would head for their jobs.
For now, though, she was alone, her breath coming out in soft puffs, the slap of her running shoes against the asphalt, and the steady beat of her heart. Running. It was the one constant in her life, grounding her in a way nothing else had ever done.
Arriving at the park entrance, she turned toward the water and the path that lined it. Remnants of last night’s search littered the playground. Coffee cups and cigarette butts flecked the trampled ground. A stray piece of yellow crime tape fluttered from a tree. The grass had been torn up by too many feet and the bushes beaten back.
Eventually, the park would heal, but it would take more than a
It had all been a mistake.
The girl was fine, unharmed and safely returned to her family. The man Erin had seen in the park had been selling ice cream. Nothing more, nothing less. Or so the authorities concluded.
Erin wasn’t so easily convinced.
There were too many questions left unanswered, too many leaps in logic the police had eagerly taken in order to tie everything up and mark the case closed. Like how a five-year-old little girl managed to get a mile from the park without some adult noticing her. Like Al Beckwith, who’d admitted handing over his ice-cream cart to another man, a friend of a friend, who’d paid him for its use for the day.
No, Beckwith didn’t know the man personally, nor did his description sound anything like Erin’s. Nor was he the first to rent out his cart in order to take an unofficial day off. And no, neither Beckwith nor the police had located or identified the man who’d borrowed the cart. He’d simply vanished.
Too many coincidences for Erin. Yet the police were okay with it.
Even Donovan had seemed satisfied, attempting to mollify her by claiming he’d check out Beckwith’s story once he got back to Baltimore. She didn’t believe him. Not that she thought he was lying, but he was in charge of the hunt for Cody Sanders, and that case would demand all his attention. Evidently, the only reason he’d become involved with the Chelsea Madden search was that he suspected a connection between the two cases.
That didn’t change what she knew. Or what she didn’t.
For instance, she might not know the details of how, but she believed Chelsea had been taken from the park, then abandoned.
Why?
Erin didn’t have a clue, but she had no doubt of the
who.
She didn’t know his name, and she suspected she didn’t even know what he really looked like, but she knew how he moved. Those quick hands, plucking coins from the air, too graceful and skilled for a simple playground magician. And she
would
recognize him again.
For now, though, she wanted sleep, which seemed to move deeper into hiding with each passing hour. She had a long day ahead of her tomorrow. Sunday was the day that she took Janie and Marta to visit Claire, and Erin needed a clear head to deal with her sister. Unfortunately, needing something and getting it weren’t always the same thing.
Finally, as the night ebbed toward morning, she resigned herself to the inevitable and got out of bed. She’d go out for an early run. Maybe if she physically exhausted herself, she could still get a couple of hours’ rest before going to see Claire.
It was still dark when she stepped outside. A light rain had fallen during the night, leaving the ground coated in a thin layer of mist. The cool air, with its promise of approaching fall, felt good against her skin. Invigorating. She skipped her warm-up walk and started off at a slow jog, feeling her muscles stretch and revive her blurry mind.
She passed silent streets, an air of expectancy hovering over them like the early morning weather. In another hour, the first stirrings of commerce would begin. The paperboys and street cleaners would emerge, the corner bakery would lift its shades, and early weekend workers would head for their jobs.
For now, though, she was alone, her breath coming out in soft puffs, the slap of her running shoes against the asphalt, and the steady beat of her heart. Running. It was the one constant in her life, grounding her in a way nothing else had ever done.
Arriving at the park entrance, she turned toward the water and the path that lined it. Remnants of last night’s search littered the playground. Coffee cups and cigarette butts flecked the trampled ground. A stray piece of yellow crime tape fluttered from a tree. The grass had been torn up by too many feet and the bushes beaten back.
Eventually, the park would heal, but it would take more than a
Similar Books
