Whit started to take off.
A car horn blared.
The guard gripped Whit’s jacket and yanked him back, just as a service truck whizzed by. The driver made a face at Whit like he was an idiot.
He’d be a lot worse than an idiot if his niece got taken on his watch.
“Stop!” the guard shouted as they crossed the street.
Whit wished the guard hadn’t alerted the kidnapper to their presence. She slammed the back door and got behind the wheel. Did she even strap his niece into a car seat?
They were about a hundred feet away when she shoved it into gear and took off, peeling across the parking lot, nearly hitting a car as she made a sharp turn.
“You get the plates?” the guard said.
“Yep.”
She sped up to the exit.
They chased after her.
Whit automatically reached for his gun and remembered the hospital still had it.
“My truck’s over here,” the security guard said. Whit kept his eyes on the white minivan that was nearing the exit gate.
Whit and the guard climbed into his truck. The guard pulled out and Whit called Emergency.
“A child’s been abducted from Saint Mary’s Hospital. Tell Detective Harper it’s Mia Bremerton. The suspect is female, Caucasian, dark hair, about five foot eight. She drove off in a white minivan.”
He gave them the plate number and watched the van turn onto the main road. Whit didn’t want this to become a high-speed chase, putting Mia at even more risk.
He had to get her back.
The little girl was family and he was responsible for her.
“Give her space,” Whit said to the security guard.
“I don’t want to lose them,” he said.
“I know, but we don’t want to force her into making a bad driving decision either.”
The guard nodded in agreement.
“I’m Brody Whittaker, by the way.”
“Steve Meyers. Didn’t expect to be chasing a kidnapper when I came into work today. Why did she take your niece?”
“Don’t know.” This entire day had been filled with questions and no answers, Whit thought.
One answer was obviously clear: Mia needed her uncle to protect her from whatever his brother may have gotten himself into. Whit shouldn’t assume this was about Harry, yet it wouldn’t surprise him. Harry tended to take risks, risks that could have led to putting his baby girl in danger. Maybe if Whit had stayed around longer, been a good role model for his brother growing up, Harry would have turned out more grounded. It was obvious that Whit’s stepdad didn’t have much time for his son.
Instead Whit took off after high school, joined the army and kept his distance from his mom, half brother and half sister, Beth. He thought he’d made that decision out of respect for the family. Recently he began to wonder if shame had driven him away.
Shame that he’d been so utterly selfish as a teenager. He hadn’t prevented Harry from getting hurt.
Ever since Whit’s brush with death on the job, he’d been determined to heal his relationship with Harry. Whit wanted to be a good brother, and a loving uncle to Mia.
“She’s turning onto Mountain Pass drive,” Steve said.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Narrow road. Sharp turns.”
Whit relayed the information to the 9-1-1 operator.
“I’m sending deputies to intercept her,” the operator said.
“Thanks.” Whit turned to Steve. “Let’s not crowd her.” He certainly didn’t want her rolling the van with his niece in the back seat.
Whit’s eyes burned as he stared ahead at the kidnapper’s vehicle. They would lose the white minivan to a sharp turn, and then catch sight of it again. It was awfully bold of the kidnapper to walk into a hospital, pretend to be a family member and leave with the child.
Bold and criminal.
“She won’t get far,” Steve said, trying to make Whit feel better.
Steve approached a sharp turn a little too fast and they came dangerously close to skidding off into a ravine.
“Sorry, I’ll slow it down,” he said.
Whit nodded, his vocal cords tied into knots. He used to love the adrenaline rush, the buzz of a chase, although not when it involved one of his own, and there were very few of those left in his life. His serious romantic relationships couldn’t withstand his commitment to the job, and he’d grown distant from his work family because of his medical leave.
He found himself at an impasse, possibly forced to sit behind a desk for the rest of his career. It wasn’t the same as being out in the field, of leading an investigation. He wasn’t sure what the future held professionally, what he’d end up doing.
That untethered feeling made him realize how important it was to have a support system, a real family. He and his half sister, Beth, had reconnected, and he thought he was on the right track with Harry, until he’d stopped returning Whit’s calls.
“Where’d she go?” Steve peered out the window.
“Down on the right?” Whit craned his neck, hoping to see the minivan.
They reached a four-way stop and looked both directions.
The minivan, with his niece in the back seat, was gone.
* * *
Never talk to police, her mother’s voice whispered in the recesses of her mind. The family code.
By now Carly should want nothing to do with her family, their advice, their lies. Yet childhood trauma was imprinted on her heart.
If you talk to police, they will take Greta away.
Carly readjusted her position in the interrogation room chair and crossed her arms over her chest. She was proud of herself for remaining calm and not allowing her past to cause her to have a total meltdown. After all, the last time she’d been questioned by police she was a naive thirteen-year-old who’d been played by her mother and cajoled by authorities.
No one had cared about Carly’s well-being. They all had their own agendas: her parents wanted her gone and the cops wanted to finish their paperwork.
Still, when Carly stepped into this room with the one table and chairs on either side, the past flashed through her mind.
The fight with her mother.
