The parking lot was filled with cracks and bumps as her feet pounded on the concrete, and she leaped around garbage, twisted metal and a mattress. The canopy of the trees made the night even darker. Sheryl had not been carrying a flashlight. She would have to move slowly with Elsie.
Her heartbeat drummed in her ears as she treaded the undergrowth of the forest. She stepped where there seemed to be a sort of path.
She heard a scream. Elsie’s scream.
Lydia shot through the forest toward the sound of her daughter in distress. The trees thinned. She saw a car in the distance, parked in an open area but concealed from the road by brush.
Though she could not see her, the sound of Elsie’s crying compelled Lydia forward. She pushed through the trees and brush. Then she saw it. Elsie lying on the ground caught in a tangle of undergrowth. Sheryl was bent over her.
Sheryl’s head shot up. Lydia had been spotted. Sheryl could run and get away in the car if she left Elsie behind. Instead, she reached for her granddaughter, making soothing sounds as she sought to free the child’s legs from the roots and branches she’d gotten tangled in.
Lydia ran to her daughter. “Elsie. Elsie.”
“Mommy.”
The girl fell into Lydia’s arms. She held her close as tears flowed.
“She’s my son’s daughter,” Sheryl hissed, stretching to take Elsie.
“Sheryl Caldwell, get away from the child and put your hands in the air.”
Lydia glanced off to the side, where Maren stood with Haven, her gun drawn.
Sheryl turned to run toward the car. Maren shouted a command at Haven, who caught up with Sheryl and leaped at her while barking.
Sheryl put her arms in the air. “I’ll stop. Just call your dog off.”
Lydia looked up at the older woman and held the crying Elsie even tighter. “She’smydaughter.”
“Norm says Sloane will be a good father once he stops drinking. He can quit more easily if you’re not around.”
Sheryl’s thinking was twisted. She’d believe anything to see their son as not at fault. Or that the pressure Norm put on his son to succeed contributed to his drinking.
Maren moved in to handcuff Sheryl. “I’m going to put her in my patrol car.”
“Sure. Give me a minute with Elsie,” said Lydia.
Maren led Sheryl away through the trees, her dog keeping an intent eye on the suspect.
Lydia rose to her feet, still holding Elsie close. “My precious, precious girl.” She brushed her hand over Elsie’s soft curls. “Mommy’s treasure.” She touched Elsie’s cheek. “Are you hurt? Did Grandma give you enough to eat?”
“Yes, Grandma gave me lots of treats and toys, but Mommy, they wouldn’t let me see you. They said you were bad and that they had to take me away.” She wrapped her arms around her mom’s neck. “I knew it wasn’t true.”
“No, sweetheart. Grandma and Grandpa…they were just…misguided.”
“That’s a big word.” Elsie twirled a strand of her mother’s auburn hair. Her face was close enough to Lydia’s that she could feel the child’s soft breath on her skin.
“I hope you weren’t scared.”
Elsie shook her head then patted her mom’s cheek. “I missed you.”
“Oh, baby girl, you have no idea how much I missed you.” She put Elsie on the ground and then took her hand. “Come on, we’re going to go sit in a policeman’s car.”
“Is he a nice policeman?”
“Yes, he’s very nice indeed and he has a really sweet dog.”
“A dog.” Elsie squealed with delight. “Can I pet the dog and give her hugs?”
