Truly, Madly, Deeply (The Baxters #31) - Karen Kingsbury Page 0,46

detective—one of the toughest men in the precinct according to Tommy’s father—held the child to his chest and whispered to him until the boy stopped crying. An ambulance showed up and paramedics rushed into the house and then back out with a woman on a stretcher.

Not long after, another car joined the scene. Tommy could hear from the radio that the people who approached the house next were from social services. The children were headed for foster care. Tommy didn’t need training to understand that much.

For ten minutes Detective Lockwood held the little boy, while the toddler clung to his neck. After he passed the child to one of the social workers, the detective jogged back to the squad car. From a box on his backseat, the detective pulled a teddy bear and ran it to the child. Tommy couldn’t hear Detective Lockwood, but his actions said it all.

Detective Lockwood cared about the child. As if the boy were his own.

Something else. The fact that here, on one of the worst nights in the toddler’s life, the detective was ready. Not with a sharp word or a mere callous arrest. But with a teddy bear. A toy so the little boy wouldn’t feel so sad and alone.

Back in the car, Detective Lockwood explained the situation to Tommy. “The suspect hit the mother of the children. Square in the face. Knocked her out. Then he called police as if he were the victim.” The detective sighed. “They were both doing meth. Poor kids.”

Before the ride-along was finished that afternoon, Detective Lockwood answered a call about a confused man. They found the older gentleman wandering in the middle of a busy intersection. As soon as they stopped and parked, the detective was out of the car. He put his hand on the man’s shoulder and coaxed him into the squad car.

“You trying to get home?” Detective Lockwood checked the rearview mirror. “Your daughter called in. She’s looking for you.”

“That’s good.” The man tried to laugh. But fear filled his voice. “I’m looking for her, too.”

Tommy shifted so he could see the gentleman. He was in his eighties, at least. His eyes were wide, and he clutched a worn hat in his hands.

The detective entered an address in his GPS and took off toward the man’s home. “Tell me about yourself, Abraham.”

“Well… I’m married to a good one. Fifty-three years now.”

Detective Lockwood smiled. “You’re a blessed man.”

“I am.” The man’s fear eased. “That I am.”

Abraham’s daughter was waiting for him outside her house. She helped her father inside and then thanked the detective. “My mother died three years ago. Dad hasn’t been the same since.”

On the way back to the station, Tommy let the ordeal sink in. He had expected to see a string of arrests and traffic tickets, maybe a few foot chases. But he had forgotten one obvious aspect of the streets.

Just like in Thailand, people needed help. Trafficked kids, and old folks like Abraham. Police officers were often the only people willing and able to help.

Tommy was still thinking about all he’d seen on the ride-along when he arrived at the hospital. Annalee wasn’t doing well. Her parents went home to shower, and Tommy stayed. He held a cool cloth to her head and grabbed a basin when she needed to throw up. None of it helped. She fell asleep looking sicker and weaker than she had yesterday.

Can’t you hear us, God? Everyone’s praying for her, so why is she so sick? Tommy stared at Annalee. What did she do to deserve this?

The babies in the drug house and the old man wandering the street—police could do something to help them. But not so Annalee. Only God could stop the side effects of chemo or the deadly power of cancer left untreated.

And for some reason God wasn’t answering.

When her parents returned, Annalee was still sleeping, so Tommy left. Tears clouded his eyes all the way home. Please, God, hear me. Help Annalee. He couldn’t stand seeing her so sick. I believe in You, Lord. You can get her through this. Please.

Tommy wanted to turn his car around and take Annalee from her hospital bed, drive her as far away from here as a tank of gas could get him. But it wouldn’t matter. The disease would follow them. There was no outrunning it. And until God decided to help them, things would only get worse.

Darkness had long since fallen over Indiana by the time he pulled into the driveway at