And she really, really hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
Driving through the night, she kept her eyes peeled on the rearview mirror. She wished she could remember what kind of vehicle David drove, but she’d been focused only on escape, nothing more. She couldn’t actually remember seeing any type of car, but David had to have driven to Jill’s house in something. Her sister’s house wasn’t near a bus route.
Rory was still crying, signifying he was either hungry or needed his diaper changed, or both.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” she whispered in a soothing voice. Logically, she knew she should head to a police station, but nothing about this night made any rational sense.
And her sister’s warnings echoed in her mind.
David’s fellow police officers always cover for him; they believe whatever lies he’s told them about me. Not one of them can be trusted.
At the time she’d thought Jill was being paranoid, but after this, she believed her sister had been right all along.
In fact, Jill had died because of it.
Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision. Lacy swiped them away, knowing she needed to be careful. In an effort to relax, she turned on the radio, searching for a soft jazz station, hoping the music would help calm Rory.
His crying had subsided to soft hiccupping sobs, the sound tearing at her heart. Keeping one hand on the wheel, she stroked his back as she drove, feeling guilty over not having him in a proper car seat. Driving with him in front of her was dangerous, but not as bad as staying behind where his father might try to kill him. Once again, her desperate need to flee wavered.
Should she turn around, go back to the police? But what if they were David’s buddies? What if they didn’t believe her?
If David succeeded in getting custody of Rory, what would prevent him from killing his son, the way he’d killed his wife?
No, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t go back there. She had to wait until morning. There’d be plenty of time to find officers in another district far away from the one where David worked, who would listen to her side of the story. Surely they would believe her.
A weird beeping sound came from the radio, but before she could reach over to change the station, she heard the announcement of an Amber Alert.
“Missing three-month-old boy, Rory Williams, believed to be in a blue sedan belonging to his aunt, Lacy Germaine. The woman who took the child is in her late twenties and has long blond hair. Please call the Milwaukee Police Department if you see anyone matching this description.”
Lacy tightened her grip on the steering wheel, feeling sick to her stomach. How was it possible that there was an Amber Alert so soon? Why would the police be looking for her and Rory? What had happened at her sister’s house when the police had arrived? Had David played the role of grieving husband and father? Had he found a way to place the blame for what had happened to Jill on someone else?
On her?
She hadn’t prayed in a long time, since before her parents had died. But desperate times called for extreme measures so she sent up a quick request, hoping God would care about an innocent baby.
Help me keep this child safe.
A sense of calm settled over her, slowing her breathing, but she still needed a plan. She took the next exit on the freeway and began searching for a convenience store. Rory began crying again and she knew she couldn’t wait a moment longer. She needed diapers and formula, both essentials in caring for an infant. Good thing she still had one of Rory’s bottles in her purse from their earlier outing to the park.
Once she found a safe place to stay and had the baby changed and fed, she would think about what she would do next. There must be a police department she could go to in order to turn herself in. A district that wouldn’t believe David’s lies.
Catching a glimpse of bright lights up ahead, she gratefully headed toward the store attached to a gas station. She pulled up to a pump and quickly filled her tank. She didn’t have a lot of cash, however, forcing her to use a credit card, but having enough fuel was worth the risk. She knew the police would track her this far, but hopefully she’d be long gone before they could send a squad car to come pick her up.
She walked into the store and began searching the shelves for what she would need. There was a short, rotund man with a long scraggly beard behind the counter. He watched her like a hawk through thick, dark-rimmed glasses. Was he expecting her to steal something?
Or worse, had he heard the Amber Alert?
Praying it wasn’t the latter, she tried to act natural, idly perusing the shelves, searching for the items she needed. She could feel the round bearded guy’s gaze piercing her back, like tiny laser beams.
She tucked a package of diapers beneath her arm, then shifted a few steps to the right, looking over the various types of formula on display. Recognizing the yellow canister her sister used, she picked that one up.
Bright lights flashed through the window, startling her so much that she jumped a little. She cast a fugitive glance over her shoulder. Had the police found her already? She hesitated, wondering if she should just leave and go somewhere else.
The front door of the shop opened, and it took every ounce of strength she possessed not to turn and stare at whoever had come inside. She slid around the row of shelving, putting distance between herself and the newcomer.
A glimpse of black hair beneath a dark hat caught her eye and she ducked farther down, her pulse skipping several beats.
David had black hair. But he couldn’t possibly have found her so quickly. Right?
She didn’t want to believe it. Couldn’t imagine how. Her sister’s husband might have been a Special Ops soldier at one point, but he wasn’t Superman.
Just her worst nightmare.
She tucked the canister of formula into the folds of the baby wrap and slipped a twenty-dollar bill from her purse, leaving it on the shelf to pay for the items she’d taken. Then she eased around another row of supplies, slowly making her way toward the main doorway.
After painstakingly slow maneuvering, she finally had a clear pathway to the door. Praying for safety, she took a deep breath, tucked her head and made a run for it.
* * *
Heading home after a long double shift, Officer Matthew Callahan and his K-9 partner, a tall German shepherd named Duchess, came upon a convenience store located six blocks from the church the Callahan family had attended ever since he could remember. His stomach rumbled with hunger, and since he knew there wasn’t much food at home, he decided to stop for a bite to eat.
As he pulled into the parking lot, his headlights shined on a tall woman with long blond hair holding something bulky beneath her arm, running in a full-out sprint for the navy blue sedan sitting next to a gas pump.
What in the world?
Matt threw the gearshift into Park, hit the button to lift the tailgate so Duchess could jump down and then bolted from the vehicle.
Before he could yell at the woman to stop, he saw another tall man, a
