"Holy Jesus," Wallace muttered.
Jeffrey got down on his stomach so that he could see her better, asking, "Lacey?"
The child did not respond, though at this distance, he could see there was something white at the corners of her mouth.
"Lacey?" he tried again, putting his gun beside him on the floor so he could reach in and touch her forehead. She felt clammy and there was something gritty on her skin.
Jeffrey told Wallace, "Hold my feet," as he reached into the hole. He managed to hook his hands under her arms and get a good grip on her. Wallace kept him from sliding in as Jeffrey started to pull Lacey out. She was small, but her body was deadweight. He asked Nick for help, and between the three of them they managed to get her out of the hole.
"You're okay," Nick said, setting her down on the floor inside the bedroom.
Jeffrey sat back on his heels, wiping the dust from his forehead. The crawl space was filthy, red Georgia clay like powder from the heat.
Suddenly, there was a scratching noise from underneath the house as if someone was moving. Without thinking, Jeffrey dove into the hole, catching himself with his hands so he wouldn't fall on his face. It was dark under the house, low-hanging pipes giving it the appearance of a maze. Jeffrey blinked several times, trying to acclimate himself, when a flash of light came from the far end of the house.
"Nick!" he yelled, taking off, using his elbows and feet to propel himself through the small space. From above, he heard footsteps running through the house, and prayed Nick's man in the back would act quickly.
Up ahead, he saw a pair of feet slipping through a narrow vent opening. Jeffrey followed as fast as he could, banging his head on a gas line. He kept going toward the light, turning at the last minute and using his feet to kick at the hole. The mortar was weak in the old house, and bricks flew out from the force. Jeffrey turned back around, pushing himself through the opening, feeling intense pain as his pants tore on the jagged brick.
"Stop!" Robbins screamed. He was just a kid, his feet out wide, his gun in front of him, pointing at the figure running toward him.
Jeffrey knew what was going to happen and it did. The runner smacked right into Robbins, who dropped his gun. Jeffrey stood, unable to move as he recognized the runner.
"Dottie!" Jeffrey yelled.
Dottie stood, their eyes locking. She raised her hands like she meant to surrender, then took off running toward the backyard. Jeffrey knelt, pulling out his ankle gun in one swift movement as he lined up to take the shot. He stopped as Dottie jumped the fence and ran into the neighbor's backyard, which was full of kids playing on a swing set.
Jeffrey took off after her, pumping his arms as he ran. He hurdled the fence without breaking stride, running around kids like an obstacle course. He saw Dottie run into the house, slamming the door behind her. Jeffrey took the steps two at a time, busting the door open with his shoulder, breaking into the hallway and nearly smacking into a line of kids. The first one barely came up to Jeffrey's waist, and he sidestepped to miss the boy, slamming full force into the wall. His arm felt like it was on fire, and Jeffrey dropped his gun.
"Sir?" a young woman asked. She was probably around twenty, and her dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She looked terrified.
Jeffrey sat up, pressing his fingers into his arm to see if he had broken anything. He realized he was panting from running. There were at least ten kids around, all of them looking at Jeffrey with the same fear in their eyes as the young woman had. His heart stopped as he realized he was in a day-care center. All of these kids, so close to Dottie; he could not fathom the implications.
"Sir?" the woman repeated, pulling some of the kids close to her.
Jeffrey pulled his badge out of his back pocket, showing it to her. He tried to catch his breath so he could speak. "Where…?" he began. "The woman…?"
"Wendy?" the girl asked. "Wendy James?"
Jeffrey shook his head, thinking she did not understand.
"She just left," the girl told him. "She ran through the house and-"
Jeffrey jumped up, scattering the kids as he retrieved his gun. He ran out the open front door, into the yard and to the street. He could see a car ahead, taking a right to merge onto the busy interstate. It could have been white or tan or gray. It could have been a four door or a coupe or a hatchback. He did not know what kind of car it was. All he knew was that it was gone.
Chapter Twenty
Jeffrey walked around to the dock behind Sara's house. The moon was high above the trees, and a breeze was coming in off the lake. Jeffrey stood in the grass, watching Sara, feeling some of the stress start to drain out of him. She sat in one of the two deck chairs on the dock, her legs crossed at the ankle in front of her. In the moonlight, Jeffrey could see she was staring out at the rocks in the water. The greyhounds were with her and she rested her hand on Bob's head. She was wearing a pair of shorts and one of his old shirts. Jeffrey stared at her, thinking that she looked even better now than she did the night before.
She turned in her chair when she heard his footsteps on the dock. Billy and Bob kept their heads down, staring out at the water.
"Don't let them scare you," Sara teased.
"They're so ferocious," Jeffrey said. He went on one knee to pet Bob on the head. The dog rolled over, kicking his left leg into the air as Jeffrey scratched his belly.
Sara put her hand on Jeffrey's shoulder. "How's Lacey?"
He sighed. "Better. The sleeping pills are wearing off, but she's still groggy."
"Did they find anything?"
"There was no evidence of recent abuse," Jeffrey said.
"Just recent?"
He nodded. "There were signs that something happened before."
Sara seemed to sense he did not want to give specifics right now. She asked, "What did her father say?"
Jeffrey kept scratching Bob's belly, enjoying the simple pleasure. "He said he's glad to have her back."
"Does he have a problem with me talking to her tomorrow?"
"Not last I checked," Jeffrey said. "He still thinks it was all Dottie."
She stroked his hair back behind his ear. "Have they identified the kids yet?"
"They're running the fingerprints now. Who knows what will come up? One of them sounded Canadian. This boy…" He let his voice trail off, not sure he could tell Sara what they found in that house. It was like a cancer, rotting his brain every time he thought about it.
"What about the day care behind the house?"
"She had just started working there," Jeffrey said. "Maybe a week or so. All the kids are being checked out, but they're thinking she didn't have time."
Sara asked the question that had kept him up at night, "Do you think you'll ever find Dottie?"
"We're hoping she doesn't know we picked up on Jenny's social security number," he said, giving Billy equal time behind the ears and on his belly. "She's picked up mail there before, according to one of the workers. She's been renting the box about a year now. Mail from two other boxes has been forwarded there."
Sara pressed her lips together. "Sounds like she knows what she's doing."
"We're coordinating with the credit card company. They're mailing it out tomorrow. It should be in the box in a couple of days." He shrugged. "From there, we just sit and wait. She shouldn't take long to get it. I'm sure she needs the money to set up shop, wherever she is."
"You think that's what she's doing?"
He gave her a sad smile. "The guy at the post office says there's another card from a different company in the box right now."
"What's with all the cooperation?" Sara asked. She knew better than anyone that people were reluctant to assist the police these days. "Didn't they ask for a subpoena?"