Chapter 4 - The Child in the PantryBy sunrise, Olivia had been released pending a hearing.
The restraining order remained.
She could not come near our home.
Sophie remained there under child-welfare supervision.
Vanessa acted as if nothing had happened.
At breakfast, she poured milk into Sophie's cup.
“Drink.”
Sophie stared at it.
“No.”
“She always drinks milk,” Vanessa said.
“Not anymore.”
Sophie looked at me.
I poured the milk into the sink.
Vanessa's smile disappeared.
A social worker named Beth Coleman observed everything.
“I need to speak privately with Sophie.”
Vanessa objected.
“I have parental rights.”
Beth looked at her.
“Then give the child five minutes without you.”
Sophie entered the sunroom.
Beth used dolls instead of direct questions.
A little girl.
A father.
Two women.
A wooden house.
Sophie placed the little girl inside a cupboard.
“She stays until she says where Mommy sleeps.”
Beth's face tightened.
“What happens if she doesn't tell?”
Sophie squeezed the doll's arm.
“She gets hurt.”
Vanessa rushed downstairs.
“That's enough!”
Then every light in the house went out.
The security alarm chirped once.
Then silence.
The cameras died.
The gate opened.
Beth turned.
“Sophie?”
The chair was empty.
The garden door stood open.
I ran outside.
Muddy footprints crossed the grass.
A black SUV disappeared beyond the gate.
Sophie’s stuffed rabbit lay in the road.
I picked it up.
Vanessa appeared behind me.
“My daughter is missing!”
I turned.
“Your daughter?”
“She is legally my daughter.”
“Then help me find her.”
Her eyes moved toward the garage.
The security panel.
Someone had manually overridden the system.
Only four people knew the code.
Me.
Vanessa.
Rosa.
Adrian.
My brother's phone went straight to voicemail.
Marcus Vale, my private investigator, arrived minutes later.
He studied the tire marks.
Then the security panel.
“Adrian owns a black SUV through a shell company.”
“Find him.”
“I’m trying.”
Then Olivia arrived.
Vanessa pointed at her.
“She took Sophie!”
Olivia stared at the empty road.
“No.”
She looked at me.
“Who knew about the garden door?”
“Rosa. Vanessa. Adrian.”
“And Celeste.”
I frowned.
“You said your mother was dead?”
“I said I didn't remember her.”
She pulled a photograph from her coat.
It showed a young Olivia standing beside a wealthy woman.
Celeste Cross.
Vanessa's mother.
On the back was an address.
Point Dume.
A black SUV appeared on Marcus's satellite feed.
We drove toward the cliffs.
Halfway there, Vanessa called.
Sophie was crying in the background.
“Daddy?”
“I’m here.”
“Vanessa says Mommy has to go back to the bad place.”
Olivia covered her mouth.
Vanessa took the phone.
“You should have accepted the life I gave you.”
“You hurt Sophie.”
“I disciplined an ungrateful child.”
Olivia leaned toward the phone.
“If you touch her—”
“You still sound like the frightened girl Mother abandoned.”
The call ended.
May you like
Then smoke appeared on the horizon.
Celeste Cross's estate was burning.
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