Roberta glares at me.
I couldn’t care less.“Sabera disappeared three weeks ago.Last seen exiting her housekeeping job too late at night to catch her bus.Her husband doesn’t seem to care, the police aren’t interested.But the next possible sighting of her is at a brutal double homicide.That’s gotta be worth investigating, and surely your brother’s wondering the same, or he never would’ve sent you.”
Roberta harumphs, but her shoulders come down.She opens her mouth as if to finally say something interesting, when Aliah bursts through the swinging doors, her eyes too wide, her face too pale.“We must go.Now.”She focuses on Daryl.“Please take us.Your presence would be much appreciated.”
Daryl is already rising to standing, while Roberta and I blink in confusion.
“What happened?”I ask, as it’s clearly nothing good.
“That was Nageenah, the Ahmadis’ neighbor.A strange man just pulled into their complex and tried to grab another family’s daughter.Her older brother was able to hold him off while she ran for their parents.The man escaped, but this is the thing—he kept calling the girl Zahra.‘Zahra, come here.Zahra, it’s okay.Zahra, I will take you to your mother.’
“The man wasn’t looking for any child.He was trying to abduct Sabera’s.”
CHAPTER 11
DARYL DOES THE DRIVING, HEAVYon the gas, light on the brakes.Roberta follows close behind.It’s still a solid ten minutes, which Aliah spends trying to reach Isaad Ahmadi.Failing that, she calls Sabera’s cell phone, only to disconnect moments later, muttering in frustration.
“The mailbox is full.I can’t even leave a message.”
Given Sabera’s been out of touch for three weeks, that doesn’t surprise me.It does imply that others are still trying to reach her.Including her husband, Isaad?Or the man trying to snatch her daughter?Or the two men brained to death in a warehouse?
I don’t want to think about that.My current nightmares are bad enough.
By the time we arrive, it appears half of the tenants are milling about the parking lot in various states of agitation.The men look up sharply as Daryl careens to a halt, several adopting defensive stances, hands fisted by their sides.These are people who don’t expect assistance, only new levels of threat.
Daryl doesn’t even have the vehicle in park before Aliah is bolting out the door and heading straight for the parents of the roller-skating children.I’m assuming it was their little girl the man approached and her big brother who took on a grown adult twice his size.Certainly, that tracks with what I observed yesterday.
Many in the assembled group relax a fraction at the older woman’s approach.Others, from a melting pot of countries, cue off their neighbor’s ease, releasing clenched fists.
Until Daryl steps out of the car, at which point a murmur of alarm flares through the crowd, just in time for Roberta to come barreling into the space behind him; then a black-and-white patrol car squeals to a halt at the curb.
Given the reputation of policing in so many parts of the world, mothers quickly start ushering their children away.Aliah doesn’t bother to explain.She has attention only for the Afghan couple, while across the way, I spot Nageenah standing in the doorway of her unit, diaper-clad baby once more perched on her hip.She’s clearly anxious, but with two other children tucked inside, she can’t abandon her post.
While Aliah starts talking rapidly to the parents in their own language, I cross to Nageenah.
“Are you okay?”
She nods.Her gaze is fixed on the patrol car, tracking the uniform exiting the vehicle.When the officer turns out to be a young Black female, Nageenah slowly exhales.
“I did not see anything,” she murmurs, hitching her drooling son higher on her hip.“I was in the living room with the children.It faces the rear of the property.I knew nothing until I heard Pazir yelling and then a car thumping over the sidewalk.I had no idea.What if the man had come here?What if he still wants Zahra?”
Her agitation ratchets up another notch.
“Have you heard from Zahra’s father?”I ask.“Do you know when he’s returning?”
“No.I texted earlier, but never received a reply.I tried calling again.Nothing.”
“And Zahra?Your other boy?Are they okay?”
“Their morning has been wooden blocks and workbooks.The rest of this, they have no idea.”
Just then two little faces appear in the hallway behind her, a dark-eyed boy in a red dinosaur T-shirt and a dark-haired girl with impossibly huge gray eyes.She peers at me solemnly, while the boy tugs on the hem of his mother’s shirt.The baby glances down, squeals something at his brother.The boy responds by pinching the baby’s big toe.
“Taimur!”Nageenah reprimands sharply.
Taimur grins, but releases his brother’s foot.In return, the baby waves a slobbery fist at him.More squealing ensues.
I squat down till I’m eye level with Zahra.She’s not said a word, just stands a few feet back, right shoulder tucked against the wall.I have vague memories of babysitting as a teenager, but primarily so I could steal the parents’ booze.I would refill the bottles with water, which might have covered my tracks if I hadn’t ended most evenings passed out drunk.Needless to say, there wasn’t a huge demand for my services, and to this day, I know next to nothing about kids.
