Chapter 4 - The Hunt on Maple Street“REESE!” I screamed, my voice echoing off the high marble ceilings of the police station lobby.
Kayla jumped, looking up with wide, tear-filled eyes. “Mom? What’s happening? Reese said she was going to get a bottle of juice from the vending machine—”
“She’s not here, Kayla!” I panicked, running toward the automatic glass doors. “She went back to the house!”
David came charging out behind me, followed closely by Detective Miller and three armed officers. “Sarah, wait! You can’t go there alone!”
“That’s my baby!” I screamed back, tearing open the door of our SUV, which was parked in the precinct lot. I didn't care about traffic laws, police orders, or legal procedure. My eight-year-old daughter was headed straight into a trap set by a desperate, ruined woman who had nothing left to lose.
I slammed my foot onto the gas pedal, the tires screaming as the SUV lunged out of the parking lot onto the rain-slicked pavement. David threw himself into the passenger seat just as I sped away, while two police cruisers pulled out behind us, sirens blaring, light bars flashing red and blue against the gray morning mist.
“Call her phone!” I yelled at David, my hands shaking uncontrollably on the steering wheel as I pushed the car to sixty miles per hour down a thirty-mile-per-hour suburban strip.
David dialed frantically, putting his phone on speaker.
It rang once. Twice. Three times.
“Hello?” Reese’s tiny voice came through the speaker, competing with the heavy patter of rain outside.
“Reese!” I sobbed into the mic. “Reese, baby, where are you right now? Tell Mommy!”
“I’m in my bedroom, Mommy,” Reese said innocently. “I brought my bicycle back from the park earlier, but I forgot my pink tape recorder on my nightstand. The police said Steven was gone, so I rode my bike home to get it. I wanted to make sure Kayla had all the evidence.”
“Reese, listen to me very carefully!” I screamed over the roar of the engine as I clipped a curb, turning violently onto Maple Street. “Get out of the house right now! Do not stop for anything! Walk out the front door!”
“Mommy... Aunt Elena is here,” Reese whispered suddenly, her tone shifting from innocent to terrified.
My blood ran cold. “What?”
“She... she’s standing in the doorway of my room. She has a big wrench from Daddy’s garage. She looks really mad, Mommy. She’s asking where the backup files are stored—”
CRASH!
A sharp glass-shattering sound echoed through the phone speaker, followed by a loud, muffled scream from Reese.
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“GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME, YOU LITTLE BRAT!” Elena’s voice shrieked over the line. “WHERE IS THE HARD DRIVE? TELL ME WHERE YOUR MOTHER HID IT OR I SWEAR TO GOD—”
The line went dead.
