“I saw her walking with a guy on Catron Street over by that abandoned apartment building.”
“How long ago was this?”
“Three minutes ago.”
“Who…who is this?”
“This is not a safe neighborhood and people don’t like snitches.” The line went dead.
The numbness and the sense that she was floating washed over her again. “We have to go. It was just three minutes ago.” She gripped River’s arm. “I know the police get anonymous tips all the time from people who just want attention or who really want to help but are mistaken. But we have to go. We have to check it out.”
River started his car and handed her his phone. “Call Maren and see if she’s still in the area. Then call the police.”
She appreciated that River didn’t question the validity of the call. His response was decisive.
“The police showing up might scare whoever has her away.” She was already scrolling through his phone.
“You might be right about that, but I’m not going over there without backup.”
“I know.” She pressed in a number.
Maren answered on the first ring. “River, what’s up?”
“This is Lydia Caldwell. Are you still close to Ridge?”
“Yes, I was just filling my gas tank before heading out.”
Lydia swallowed and took in a breath. Her words came out in a staccato beat. “I just got a call that someone spotted Elsie on Catron Street by the abandoned apartment building. River and I are headed over there now.”
Maren sounded breathless, as if she were running. “I’ll get over there as fast as I can.”
River cut in, leaning toward the phone as Lydia held it. “If you’re in your patrol car, hang back and walk in. An obvious police presence could put Elsie in danger.”
“Got it,” said Maren.
River drove through town. Every red light seemed to last forever. He slowed as the houses and buildings started to look more run-down. One man walked by himself along the street. The glow of televisions came from inside apartment building windows.
She could see the abandoned apartment house up ahead on a large lot with overgrown trees and bushes. River came to a stop by a car that had had its tires and bumper removed. She spotted a lone dog heading up the sidewalk, stopping to sniff something on a lawn. Tension coiled in her stomach as she drew her attention back to the boarded-up windows of the apartment building.
River pressed a number on his phone. “Where are you at?” He listened for a second then hung up. “She’s working her way up the street with Haven. Her dog is trained in suspect apprehension.”
Her gaze traveled up the three-story building to the top floor where some of the windows were not boarded. She jerked in her seat. “There—I saw a light in that corner apartment.”
River pulled his gun. “Stay here.”
She could see Maren with Haven less than half a block away, staying in the shadows the overhang of the buildings provided.
River got out of the car and let Frankie out of the back seat. He made his way toward the building. When he tried the ground-floor door, it swung open. He waited for a few seconds until Maren and Haven were a few yards from the door before going inside. The darkness enveloped both officers and their dogs.
Lydia looked again at the place where she’d seen a flash of light. The corner window remained dark. Her gaze rested on the overgrown trees and bushes that surrounded the building. This place had probably been quite nice in its heyday. Her eyes caught on a bit of color in a bush close to the sidewalk. She gasped.
No, it couldn’t be. It looked like Elsie’s little floral windbreaker. The one she’d been wearing the day she disappeared. Her heart was pounding as she opened the car door. When she glanced around, there was no one within three blocks of the building.
Compelled by the need to find her daughter, Lydia rushed toward where she thought she’d seen the flower print. She stepped off the sidewalk and reached through the overgrown bush. The fabric was soft in her hands. She blinked several times. ItwasElsie’s jacket.
The building remained dark and quiet. If she called River, it might alert the kidnapper and risk Elsie being harmed. She could barely get a breath. Her daughter was in that building.
Still clutching the windbreaker that smelled like Elsie, she moved to return to the car. The jacket had been low enough on the branch that it may have been dropped. She stopped. But it could’ve been planted, too.
