Chapter 1
The sun wasbarely up, and I was chasing a cracked-out-of-his-mind Santa-looking dude who shouldn’t be able to move this fast. He absolutely reeked—like moldy cheese and cheap alcohol. The smell still burns in my nose from when I first confronted him, and he took off like a rocket. Now, he tore through the streets of Charleston, and I was right behind him, wondering what the heck the guy was on. He skidded to a stop, and I did too.
“I just want the bag!” I yelled at him, hoping he’d toss it down or stay put. But no such luck. He took off again. “Dang it! Give me the bag! I don’t care about you!” Harsh, I know. But true. Surely, the guy would run out of juice eventually—he had to.
We got to a back alley intersection. Debating which way to go, he paused. I picked up speed. Dirty Santa seemed to have made a decision. But before he could act on it, a black blur came from the alley to his left and tackled him to the ground. The guy howled pitifully and squirmed on the ground, trying to make his escape.
My partner smirked at me. “You owe me ten bucks. Told ya he would run.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fuck off, Shelly, I almost had him anyway.”
Her grin widened. “You sound out of breath there, Katie.”
I flipped her the bird and returned my attention to Dirty Santa. His eyes were squeezed shut, like he was trying to will us away.
“Look, dude, I was being honest. I really don’t care about whatever you’re on. Not my district, not my problem. I just need that bag.” I pointed to the bright pink My Little Pony bag he clutched to his chest.
He opened one bleary eye and looked me up and down. Shelly let go of him, backing away slowly. Dirty Santa, however,seemed content to stay down. She tried a gentler tone on him, which was ironic since the guy would soon be sporting bruises from her takedown.
“Come on, big guy. That bag isn’t your style anyway, right? How about you give us the bag, and we just go our separate ways?”
He seemed to consider this. Still, he said nothing. I was starting to wonder if Dirty Santa even speaks English. Suddenly, he threw the bag at us and took off down the alley.
Back at the squad car, we carefully placed it in an evidence bag. My heart squeezed painfully on seeing the childish scrawl on the back.Annie.
Shelly noticed it, too, and asked softly, “Think it’ll be the big break?”
I answered honestly, “No, but we’ve gotta try.”
Every single time we thought we’d caught a break on this godforsaken case, we were just led to another dead end. It was beginning to feel like running face-first into a wall, expecting it to be Platform 9 ¾, except, in this world, magic didn’t exist, and sometimes little girls didn’t make it home.
Anastasia Little disappeared three days ago from her backyard. She was the fifth girl to have gone missing. Five empty bedrooms. Five broken families. Five “Have You Seen This Child?” posters. I hated it. I hated this feeling of powerlessness. We’d got absolutely nothing. We’d turned every stone, been around every corner, and been left empty-handed. Kids don’t just disappear. Annie had this backpack with her when she was reported missing. While it would be nice to find something on it, I had a sinking feeling we’d be left with exactly what we had before—a big freaking pile of nothing.
Back at the station, Shelly headed to the lab, and I headed to our war room. Each girl’s picture stared at me, details of their kidnappings listed carefully below. Everything was perfect—my own careful handwriting and deliberate organization just how I liked it. Shelly knew I was a stickler for that stuff. But just then, all the organization in the world wasn’t doing us a bit ofgood.
A knock came at the door, and I turned to see Officer Stanton with three coffees peeking in. I waved him in, and he passed one to me.
“Anything new, Detective McGrady?”
I sipped my coffee and shook my head.
He frowned. “Anything I can do?”
I side-eyed him; he has a crush on Shelly and would scale the side of the Eiffel Tower if she asked him to.
“Detective Vaughn is down at evidence; she’ll be back up in a bit.”
He blushed crimson, and I went back to staring at the board. I wasn’t trying to be a bitch. Really, I wasn’t. But just then, I was tired and grimy from my unplanned morning run, and I didn’t have the time or energy to play Cupid. Still, I sighed and said, “I’m sorry, it’s been a rough morning. Thanks for the coffee; we’ll let you know if we need anything else.”
He nodded and swiftly left the room.
A few minutes later, I grabbed the coffee Stanton left behind. Shelly was already back at our desk, and I joined her. I prayed to whatever god was in charge of this mess for the lab to come back with literally anything at that point. A speck of dirt, partial print, a hair. Anything.
“Did you tell them to rush it?” I asked, sliding the cup to her.
She nodded. “Let’s go over this again.”
For the next four hours, she and I pore over everything we’ve gathered over the past three months.
