Chapter 2 - The Brother Left Behind
"Tommy?" Daniel asked, his voice carefully controlled. He didn't move toward her. He stayed kneeling on the floor, keeping himself at her eye level. "Emily, who is Tommy?"
Emily wiped her nose with the back of her dirty sleeve. "My little brother. He's five."
The silence that followed was heavier than the humid, rain-soaked air outside. Marla, the dispatcher, had already picked up her secondary radio. Her fingers flew across her keyboard.
"Where is Tommy right now, sweetheart?" Daniel asked.
"In the closet," Emily said, her gaze fixed on the puppy. "In our bedroom. When Marcus got mad at the dog, he started throwing things. Tommy hid under the blankets, but Marcus said if I didn't stop crying, he'd lock Tommy in the basement again. So I took Barnaby and I ran out the back door."
She looked up at Daniel, her large brown eyes wide with a terror no child should ever know. "I told Tommy to stay quiet. I told him not to breathe loud. But what if Marcus finds him? What if he puts him in the basement?"
Daniel felt a familiar, cold fury ignite in his chest. He had been a cop in Cedar Ridge for twelve years. He had seen the worst of humanity, the dark underbelly of a quiet suburban town. He knew the monsters didn't hide under beds; they sat on living room couches, drinking cheap beer and terrorizing the people they were supposed to protect.
"Emily," Daniel said, his tone shifting. It was no longer just gentle; it was anchored. Solid. "I need you to tell me where you live. Can you do that?"
"Number 42," she said without hesitating. "On Elm Street. The house with the blue door. The porch light is broken."
Elm Street. It was less than a mile away. A neighborhood of decaying rental properties and overgrown lawns, where people kept their heads down and ignored the screaming next door.
Daniel stood up. He looked at Marla, who was already nodding.
"Units 4 and 7 are en route," Marla said through the glass, her voice professional but tight with emotion. "Ambulance dispatched to Elm Street. I'm calling Dr. Evans at the animal clinic for the puppy."
"Tell them no sirens," Daniel said sharply. "If this guy is volatile, sirens will only make him panic. We go in quiet."
The young officer, whose name was Jenkins, reappeared from the hallway holding a thick, wool emergency blanket. He approached Emily slowly, wrapping it around her small, shivering shoulders.
"I'm going to stay right here with you and Barnaby," Jenkins told her. "My name is Officer Jenkins. I've got a dog at home, too. We're going to take good care of him."
Emily pulled the blanket tight, but her eyes never left Daniel. She knew he was the one leaving. She knew where he was going.
"Are you going to get Tommy?" she asked.
"Yes," Daniel said. He checked his duty belt, snapping the retention strap on his holster out of pure muscle memory. "I'm going to bring your brother back here. That's a promise."
"Marcus is big," she warned him. "And he has a gun in the kitchen drawer."
Daniel’s jaw tightened. "I'm bigger," he lied smoothly. "And I'm not afraid of Marcus."
He turned and walked rapidly toward the doors. The electric chime sounded again, jarring and loud in the tense lobby. As Daniel stepped out into the pouring rain, the cold water hit his face, but he didn't feel it.
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His mind was already at 42 Elm Street. He was thinking of a five-year-old boy huddled in a dark closet, holding his breath, waiting for a sister who wasn't coming back, and a monster who might just open the door.
He broke into a run toward his cruiser. The night was far from over.
