Chapter 8 - WHEN THE LIGHTS WENT OUT
Darkness swallowed the room.
Emma screamed.
Noah dropped to one knee and pulled her against him.
“Tessa?”
“I’m here.”
Sarah’s flashlight snapped on.
“Stay down.”
Outside the interview room, officers shouted.
A red emergency light flickered once in the hall, then died.
Sarah touched her radio.
“Dispatch?”
Static.
No answer.
Noah’s heart pounded.
“This building have a backup generator?”
“It should.”
“Should?”
Sarah opened the door a crack.
An officer ran past.
“Generator line was cut!” he shouted.
Sarah looked back at Noah.
“Interior hallway. Now.”
They moved Emma between them.
Tessa carried the folder.
Noah carried his duffel because it held his identification, passport, and every document he might need to keep Emma with him.
They reached a windowless records room.
Sarah locked the door.
Emma’s breathing was too fast.
Noah crouched beside her.
“Look at me.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I don’t like dark.”
“I know.”
“He puts me in the little room when I’m bad.”
Noah went still.
“Who?”
She did not answer.
He did not push.
“Okay. You’re not in that room now. You’re with me.”
Sarah handed him her spare flashlight.
“Keep it on her.”
A crash came from the front lobby.
Then two sharp pops.
Gunshots.
Tessa gasped.
Sarah drew her weapon.
“Stay here.”
Noah caught her arm.
“You going alone?”
“I have officers out there.”
“Then let them come to you.”
“If somebody’s inside, I need to know.”
Another shot.
Then silence.
Sarah opened the door and disappeared into the hall.
Noah sat on the floor with Emma tucked beside him.
Tessa whispered, “We need another exit.”
“Is there one?”
“There’s a maintenance stairwell at the back.”
“Then why are we waiting?”
“Because Sarah told us to stay.”
Noah looked at Emma.
Staying put had kept this child trapped for years.
He was done trusting walls.
“We’re moving.”
Tessa hesitated only a second.
They slipped into the hallway.
Smoke drifted from the lobby.
Not fire smoke.
Chemical.
“Pepper spray,” Tessa said.
A deputy lay near the reception desk, conscious but coughing.
Noah helped him sit up.
“What happened?”
“Someone came through the side entrance. Hooded. Cut the power. Sprayed Jenkins.”
“Where’s Sarah?”
“Went after them.”
Noah cursed under his breath.
They reached the rear stairwell.
The emergency exit door was chained from the outside.
Tessa stared at it.
“That’s impossible.”
“Not if somebody planned this.”
Emma tugged Noah’s sleeve.
“There’s another way.”
He looked down.
“What?”
“Grandma showed me.”
Noah’s blood ran cold.
“You’ve been here before?”
Emma nodded.
“With Grandma. She says police keep secrets in the basement.”
Tessa and Noah exchanged a look.
“Show me,” he said.
Emma led them to a supply closet.
Behind a rolling shelf was a narrow service door Noah would never have noticed.
Tessa opened it.
Stairs led down.
The basement smelled of paper and dust.
Rows of locked file cabinets lined the walls.
Emma pointed to the far corner.
“She goes there.”
A cabinet stood open.
Inside were folders.
Dozens of them.
Each labeled with a child’s name.
Tessa picked up the first.
Her face turned white.
“These are closed child welfare cases.”
“Why are they here?”
“They shouldn’t be.”
Noah opened another folder.
Inside was a photo of a boy with a black eye.
The report stamped across the front read: UNSUBSTANTIATED.
Another folder.
Another child.
Another closed case.
Tessa covered her mouth.
“This is bigger than Emma.”
Noah heard footsteps overhead.
Then a door opened at the top of the stairs.
A woman’s voice called softly into the darkness.
“Emma, sweetheart?”
Emma grabbed Noah’s hand.
“That’s Grandma.”
Marlene Pike stepped onto the stairs holding a flashlight in one hand.
May you like
And a pistol in the other.
