to Ian touched one hair on her baby girl’s head—fury cauterized her fear. She belly-crawled a few inches closer to Emily, shoving shoe boxes and discarded toys and books and sneakers aside.
Using her cell, Leah examined what little she could of Emily’s balled-up body. No blood. No obvious injuries. Finally, she’d edged far enough beneath the bed that she was able to wrap her arms around Emily. Leah was cramped and contorted, her head pushing against a bed slat, one shoulder nudging the mattress, and both legs sprawled behind her.
“Leah.” The 911 operator hadn’t given up on her. “The officers are there. They’ll be coming in the rear of the house. Stay where you are. Make sure your hands are empty and keep them where they can see them. Set the phone down, it’s okay, I’ll still be here until I know you’re with them.”
A wave of hysterical laughter burbled up, but Leah choked it back. “I can’t show them my hands,” she told the anonymous operator. “I’m under my daughter’s bed. She’s here, too. I’m not leaving her.”
“Which room?” The sound of computer keys drifted past the woman’s voice.
“End of the hall. Where Ian—” Leah gulped, lowered her voice. Emily knew about Ian—more than Leah did—but Leah couldn’t say the words, risk them penetrating Emily’s protective cocoon of denial. “Where my husband is. He’s on the floor.”
“They’re securing the house. You will probably hear them checking all the rooms. You’re safe now, Leah. You can come out. You and your daughter. Just show them your hands, leave the phone.”
Leah could barely hear the operator over the sounds of two men shouting downstairs and banging through the first floor. The noises did not make her feel safe—in fact, they were terrifying. Probably the point if she was a thief cowering, desperately hiding. “I’m not leaving Emily.”
“Okay, hang on. Let me tell them where you are. Is your daughter injured?”
“She’s in shock. But I can’t find any external injuries.”
Footsteps thundered up the stairs followed by the thud of doors being thrown open. Finally, the light clicked on inside Emily’s room. A man made a guttural sound and swore, stepping inside only far enough to swing the door and look behind it, and then to check Emily’s closet.
Leah gasped at what the light revealed. Thankfully Emily still had her eyes squeezed tight.
Ian’s back was shredded with deep gouges that exposed muscle and cut down to the bone. How the hell had he found the strength to keep fighting? For Emily. Of course. Leah blinked back tears and gripped her daughter tighter.
“Ma’am.” One pair of black military boots shuffled beyond the end of the bed, away from Ian. “There’s no sign of the intruder. You can come out now.”
Leah’s body was twisted so tight she couldn’t feel her legs and her muscles had locked into position, hanging onto Emily. “I can’t leave my daughter. She’s in shock, won’t even open her eyes.”
“Might not be a bad thing,” he muttered as he stepped back, skirting a pool of blood. There was a hushed conversation; Leah could only hear bits and pieces. “Can’t leave them—”
“Crime scene unit… Evidence—”
“Can’t move the DB. CSU would have our hides and the detectives will chew up what’s left.”
“Wait for the sarge? It’ll just be a few minutes.”
Two pairs of boots approached. “Er, ma’am? We need to preserve the crime scene—”
“He means we can’t drag you out, not past—”
“I know what he means,” Leah snapped. She hunched her shoulder up, jostling the bed slat above her. “Can you lift the mattress? Tilt it enough so I can push the slats away and carry Emily out?”
A pause as they considered the logistics. “Yeah, that might work. You okay to wait a sec while we document the scene?”
“I still think we should wait for backup,” the second man said.
Emily’s trembling had grown worse. She felt cold, clammy with sweat. “As soon as you can,” Leah called out. “Do you have a sterile sheet you could cover…” She trailed off, unable to complete the thought. In no universe imaginable were the words “Ian’s body” part of Leah’s vocabulary. No. Not. Possible.
His blood was soaking through her scrubs, she couldn’t erase the image of his head resting so unnaturally against his shoulder, yet somehow part of Leah’s brain refused to believe what every one of her senses screamed was real. Ian was dead. Beaten. Brutalized. Butchered.
Those were the facts of her new existence, the laws of physics that would now forever govern her universe.