Man Of The Hour. Patricia KayЧитать онлайн книгу.
began a one-handed search for a mossy-green one in a size small. Olivia, held in the other arm, began sucking her thumb. On another day, Glynnis would have tried to distract her and gently pull the thumb out of her mouth, but right now she was too frazzled. If the thumb gave Livvy some comfort and allowed Glynnis to get her sweater and get out of there quickly, so be it. She’d deal with her daughter’s insecurities some other time.
Just when Glynnis found the size she was looking for, there was a huge crash as one of the nearby circular racks holding leather jackets collapsed onto the floor. Glancing over, she spied the unmistakable red sneakers of her son protruding from underneath the fallen rack.
“Michael!” Putting Olivia down, Glynnis rushed over to help one of the sales clerks right the rack. A dazed-looking Michael stared up at her. There was a bloody cut on his cheek. “Oh, Michael, honey,” Glynnis said, reaching down to help him up. “Are you okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
Glynnis took a deep breath. Her heart was racing. She gathered Michael into a hug. “I’m so sorry,” she said to the clerk.
The sales clerk just rolled her eyes. “Hey, he’s a kid. We’re used to it.”
Glynnis smiled thankfully. Reaching into her pocket, she extracted a tissue and gently wiped away the blood from Michael’s cheek. Grateful to see the injury was only a surface scratch, she mentally dismissed the green sweater and said, “C’mon, honey, let’s go.”
“Okay,” he said.
“Livvy, sweetie, we’re going home.” Glynnis turned, then frowned as she realized Olivia wasn’t behind her. Remembering that she’d put Olivia down when the rack fell, she called out, “Livvy? Livvy, honey, where are you?” She made a quick sweep of the store, but she didn’t see her daughter or the bright yellow jacket she was wearing anywhere. “Livvy!” she called louder, the first small seeds of panic beginning to take hold. “Stop hiding. This isn’t funny.”
“What is it?” the clerk who’d helped her with Michael said.
“My little girl. I can’t see her. She…oh, God.” Fear caused her voice to shake. “I—I had her in my arms, and I put her down when I saw Michael under the rack.” Glynnis was practically crying now. “She’s gone! I don’t see her anywhere.”
Holding on to Michael tightly, Glynnis raced through the store. Livvy had to be here somewhere! Maybe she was hiding under one of the racks. The kids loved to do that. Once, Michael had scared her half to death by hiding and not answering when she called. When she’d finally found him, he giggled, completely unaware of the fact he’d taken a few years off her life expectancy.
By now, many of the customers and all the clerks realized what had happened and they were clustered in worried-looking groups.
“Ma’am, ma’am, slow down. Tell me what your daughter looks like,” the clerk said.
“She…she’s only three. Th-three and a half. She’s small with reddish-gold hair like mine, hazel eyes, dimples, sh-she’s wearing a bright yellow down jacket with a hood. Um, navy blue corduroy pants and white sneakers.” Glynnis fought her fear, telling herself Olivia was tired, and she’d probably just curled up somewhere.
“Anything else, ma’am?”
“Sh-she was sucking her thumb.” The mention of the thumb caused something inside Glynnis to splinter. “She’s probably just hiding somewhere.” Please, God, let her just be playing hide-and-seek.
“I’ll get security,” the clerk said. Calling to a coworker, she added, “Help her look.”
The other clerk organized the staff and remaining customers, all of whom seemed to have stopped whatever they’d been doing to commiserate. Systematically, they began searching under and behind racks and counters.
Soon they’d exhausted all possibilities, and Livvy was nowhere to be seen.
Glynnis, holding on to Michael as if her life depended upon it, raced to the door and out into the mall. Her gaze darted around. Livvy, Livvy, Livvy, where are you? But no matter how hard she looked, she saw no yellow jacket. She saw no Olivia. Biting her lip to keep from crying, Glynnis stood numbly. She had never felt so helpless in her life.
“Mommy? Where’s Livvy?” Michael’s voice trembled.
Looking down into his worried eyes, Glynnis could see he was on the verge of tears. She tried to make her own voice reassuring. “We’ll find her, honey. Don’t worry. We’ll find her. M-maybe she just wanted to get some french fries.” But even as Glynnis said the words, the fear she’d been trying to keep tamped down erupted, threatening to totally overwhelm her.
A few seconds later, two black-uniformed security guards—one an older man, the other, a plump young woman—converged on the store.
The sales clerk who had been so helpful took Glynnis by the arm. “Come back inside,” she said. “We’ve got a security camera. Let’s look at the tape and see if your daughter wandered outside.”
“What happened, ma’am?” the female guard said.
By now, Glynnis was so panicked, she could hardly talk, so the clerk hastily filled in. As soon as the vital information was imparted, the male guard got out his walkie-talkie. Within minutes, the background music that was so much a part of the mall went silent and the public address system blared into life.
“Don’t worry, ma’am,” the male guard said. “We’re closing off every exit. If your little girl wandered off by herself, she won’t be able to get out. We’ll find her.”
“Lucy,” called one of the clerks.
The clerk, who had been so helpful from the beginning, turned.
“We’ve got the security tape rewound.”
“Let’s go look at that tape, ma’am,” the female guard said.
In the store’s office, Glynnis, with Michael, the store manager, the two guards and Lucy, the helpful clerk, stood and watched the security tape.
“Oh, God!” Glynnis gasped. “There! There! That’s her!” She began to cry, for there, on the now-stopped tape, was Olivia. But she wasn’t wandering out the door alone. She was being held in the arms of a young woman, and she was crying. “That woman is taking my baby!”
The male guard grabbed the phone and punched in some numbers. “I’m calling the police,” he said. Inclining his head toward the female guard, he said, “Alert everyone. Be on the lookout for a female, teens or twenties, wearing a short jacket and jeans, spiked hairdo, probably streaked blond, carrying a female youngster. Give them a description of Mrs. March’s little girl. Tell them not to try to apprehend, just to watch and follow. The doors are all locked now, so she can’t leave. Call me the minute you see them.”
His eyes met Glynnis’s and, unknowingly, he parroted almost the exact words she’d used to reassure Michael. “We’ll find her, ma’am. Don’t worry. We’ll find her.”
Please God, Glynnis prayed, please let him be right. Please let them find her. Don’t let her be hurt. Just bring her back to me, and I’ll never ask you for anything again.
Dan O’Neill’s shift began at three, but he’d been bored at home and decided to come in to the station early. Although you’d think the opposite would be true—that perps would take a break during the Christmas holidays—crime seemed to increase at this time of year.
Even Ivy, Ohio, with its population of less than 35,000, wasn’t immune. Of course, instead of non-stop homicides, drug deals gone bad and armed robbery—which had been the menu in Chicago—the majority of crime in Ivy was confined to domestic disputes and vandalism, with a few drunk drivers thrown in.
Not exactly exciting, he thought wryly.
But then he hadn’t moved to Ivy for excitement. In his years with the Chicago PD, he’d had enough excitement