Page 104 of Chalk Outline

“Hmm... It’s brown, and I have pigtails. I wear a pink sweater, pink rain boots, and black pants.”

“Good. How old are you, Mattie?”

“Nine.”

Every piece of information can help the police find her when they arrive. “Can you tell me what happened?” I chew on my bottom lip.

“Three men broke into the house. They keep shouting. I think they are looking for me. They said, ‘Find the girl.’ I don’t know who they are.”

“You don’t recognize their voices? Or their faces?”

“No.”

“Mattie, do you have siblings?”

“No.”

“Is a family member there with you?”

“No, Mom is at work, and she leaves me alone in the house until Grandma returns from her drawing class.”

My supervisor stands beside my chair, dialing the phone to my right. Her husband is a police sergeant who works in that area and is on call. Any assistance can make a difference in an active abduction. Once children are taken, the window to find a missing child is extremely narrow. We all know that every second is crucial.

“Mattie, I know you’re here. Your mom sent us to get you,” a rough voice says from the other side of the line, sounding like a heavy smoker. His harsh footsteps down a set of stairs end with a booming sound once he hits that smashed can I heard earlier. “Hey, little girl, come here. I’m not going to hurt you. We’ll have a nice chat.”

He knows her name and possibly that she stays alone during those hours.

He is getting closer, and Mattie’s breathing quickens.

Saying the words I’m about to say fills me with guilt, anxiety, and dread. “Mattie, I will send everyone to look for you. The moment they grab you, I need you to yell their descriptions. Everything you see.”

“Winona, he’s coming.”

“Mattie.”

Mattie’s screeching scream hits me like a bullet to the chest, and she yells, “Face tattoos, blonde hair, officer uniform.”

The line disconnects.

Paralyzed in my seat, I blink back tears.

“You did everything you could for her,” says my supervisor, “Officers and SWAT teams are on their way. They will do everything to find her. The police have already sent an Amber Alert and called her mother.”

I sniffle, and tears fall down my face.

I followed every guideline I was taught, and it wasn’t enough to rescue her. She might have found a way out if I had urged her to flee. Maybe she had a chance.

I know it’s not my fault, but it hurts.

There’s nothing I could have done from an office miles away. I’m the last voice she heard. What if I’m the last voice she hears?

What if they kill her or force her to do something she doesn’t want to do?

I can’t shake the mortifying feeling that tightens in my throat. Overwhelmed, my heart is breaking all over again. The noise in the office rings in my ears, and my head feels like it’s in a vice-like grip.

“I need a break,” I say, my voice cracking like my shattered heart.

“Of course.”