Chapter 4
The fluorescent lights of the hospital waiting room buzzed with a sickening, sterile hum. Robert paced the length of the linoleum floor, his heavy duty boots squeaking slightly with every sharp turn. He had removed his utility belt, leaving it on a plastic chair, but the heavy weight of his sheriff’s badge still pulled at his uniform shirt.
The double doors of the ER swung open, and Deputy Sarah Jenkins hurried in. She was out of breath, her uniform slightly rumpled, holding a thick manila folder.
"Sheriff," Jenkins said, her voice tight with professional concern. "I got here as soon as dispatch updated me. How is Emma?"
Robert stopped pacing, running a trembling hand through his hair. "She's in a medically induced coma, Sarah. The doctors said the heatstroke triggered a severe cardiac event. The next twenty-four hours are critical. If the swelling in her brain doesn't go down..."
He couldn't finish the sentence. The thought of losing his fair, rosy-cheeked little girl was a physical agony that eclipsed any pain he had ever known.
"I'm so sorry, Robert," Jenkins whispered, dropping the formalities for a brief second. She quickly cleared her throat, returning to duty. "I have the report on Diana Harrington."
Robert's eyes snapped up, a lethal, terrifying focus returning to his gaze. "Where is she?"
"I personally booked her into holding cell three at the precinct," Jenkins reported, opening the folder. "I charged her with felony child endangerment, kidnapping, and attempted murder. We denied her a phone call for the first hour, citing emergency protocols."
"Good," Robert growled, his jaw clenching so tightly his teeth ground together. "Did she say anything during the arrest?"
"She was screaming the entire time," Jenkins scoffed, rolling her eyes. "She demanded to speak to the Mayor. She claimed she is a pillar of the community and that you assaulted her without provocation. She even took photos of the bruise on her face for her lawyer."
"Let her take all the photos she wants," Robert said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, icy whisper. "A bruise is nothing compared to what she did to my daughter."
"Sheriff, there's something else," Jenkins said hesitantly, pulling a specific sheet of paper from the file. "When we searched her house, we found something strange in her home office. Mrs. Gable, the neighbor who called 911, directed us to it."
Robert stepped closer, his brow furrowing. "What did you find?"
"It's a ledger, Robert," Jenkins said, holding up a printout of an Excel spreadsheet. "Diana Harrington isn't just a wealthy suburbanite. She's been receiving massive, untraceable payments from a private adoption agency in the state capital. And Emma's name is on this list."
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Robert stared at the paper, the blood running cold in his veins. Emma hadn't just wandered onto Diana's property. She had been targeted.
"Get my cruiser ready, Sarah," Robert commanded, his tone leaving absolutely no room for argument. "I am going to the precinct. I need to have a very private conversation with our prisoner."
