“He didn’t leave me.”
Then her eyes closed again.
The paramedics exchanged a look.
Natalie felt something shift inside her.
Outside, the neighbors were still gathered under umbrellas.
Only minutes earlier, they had been calling Andrew a monster.
Now nobody seemed quite so certain.
One of the women who had accused him stood near the fence, staring toward the ambulance with her phone lowered at her side.
Natalie walked toward her.
“You said you knew this family?”
The woman hesitated.
“A little.”
“What’s your name?”
“Mrs. Collins.”
“How long have you known Andrew?”
“About three years. He rents that house with Ashley.”
“Did you see him leave four days ago?”
Mrs. Collins looked toward the dark windows.
“Yes.”
Natalie waited.
“What time?”
“Late afternoon, I think.”
“Did he look upset?”
“No.”
“Did he seem like he was leaving for good?”
Mrs. Collins shook her head.
“No. He was carrying a grocery bag.”
Natalie frowned.
“Anything else?”
“He was in a hurry.”
“What kind of hurry?”
Mrs. Collins rubbed her arms.
“He said he had to get Ashley’s medicine.”
That matched the grocery list.
But something else bothered Natalie.
“Did you see his car?”
“Yes.”
“Did he drive away?”
Mrs. Collins nodded.
“I heard it start.”
“Which direction?”
“Toward the highway.”
Natalie looked down the street.
The highway was less than two miles away.
And beyond it was the river.
A river that had risen dangerously over the last seventy-two hours.
Flood warnings had been issued twice.
Road closures had begun that morning.
Natalie turned toward her patrol car.
“Do you know what kind of car Andrew drives?”
“Old blue pickup.”
Natalie stopped.
“Did you see him come back?”
“No.”
“Did you see anyone else near the house?”
Mrs. Collins shook her head.
Then she suddenly looked uncomfortable.
“What?”
“There was a man.”
Natalie turned back.
“What man?”
“I don’t know.”
“When?”
“The night before last.”
Mrs. Collins glanced toward the other neighbors.
“He was standing across the street.”
“Can you describe him?”
“Not really. It was raining.”
“Was he watching the house?”
“I think so.”
“Why didn’t you mention this before?”
Mrs. Collins lowered her eyes.
“I didn’t think it mattered.”
Natalie stared at her.
“Right now, everything matters.”
At the hospital, Ashley remained unconscious while doctors worked to stabilize her.
The news that a seven-year-old had been left alone for four days spread quickly.
By midnight, everyone in town seemed to have an opinion about Andrew.
Some called him a criminal.
Others demanded that he be arrested.
A local news page posted a photograph of Andrew taken from an old social-media profile.
The caption read:
FATHER ABANDONS 7-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER DURING FOUR-DAY STORM
Hundreds of comments appeared within minutes.
But Detective Marcus Hale wasn’t reading them.
He was sitting in the interview room at the police station, staring at the evidence spread across the table.
Two handwritten notes.
A grocery list.
A prescription bottle.
A photograph of Ashley and Andrew at a county fair.
And one damaged cell phone recovered from the kitchen counter.
The phone belonged to Andrew.
There were no outgoing messages after 4:17 p.m. four days earlier.
Marcus unlocked the phone and scrolled through the last few entries.
The final text message was to a number saved simply as:
DAN
Marcus read it twice.
I know what you told me. I’m going anyway. She needs me.
There was no reply.
Marcus leaned back.
“Who is Dan?”
Natalie entered the room.
“I’ve been trying to find out.”
She placed another piece of evidence on the table.
A photograph.
It showed Andrew’s blue pickup truck.
Or what appeared to be Andrew’s blue pickup truck.
It had been taken by a traffic camera four days earlier.
The timestamp read:
5:03 p.m.
The truck was traveling toward the river.
Marcus studied the image.
“That’s him?”
“Looks like it.”
“Any plate?”
“Partially obscured.”
Marcus zoomed in.
The truck disappeared around a bend.
But something bothered him.
The truck’s passenger-side window appeared to be open.
Rain was falling heavily that afternoon.
“Why would he have the window open?”
Natalie shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Marcus looked again.
Then he noticed something else.
There was a shape in the passenger seat.
Something small.
Something pale.
He enlarged the image.
The picture became blurry.
But the shape looked almost like the outline of a person’s arm.
“Can you enhance this?”
“We’re trying.”
Marcus’s phone rang.
He answered.
“Detective Hale.”
A voice on the other end spoke quickly.
Marcus’s expression changed.
“Where?”