Part 3
“Police,” an officer called. “Stay where you are.”
The man appeared at the loading door with a ring of keys in his hand. He looked toward the van, then toward the service lane. Officers were already there. Daniel held Boone beside a concrete post.
The man began talking about a delivery, about a mistake, about children who belonged to his girlfriend. He kept changing the explanation as officers moved closer. When they told him to put down the keys, he threw them toward the van. They landed short, scraping across the pavement.
An officer restrained him while another retrieved the keys. Daniel kept his attention on the open bay.
He could see rolled fabric, two worktables, and a wheeled rack crowded with cushions. Music thudded from the adjoining unit. Nothing moved between the stacked materials.
“Five children,” he reminded the officer beside him.
“We know.”
The man lifted his head. “There’s nobody in there.”
Daniel waited while officers checked the open work area. Then the search leader called him forward.
Boone crossed the threshold with his nose working. Daniel let the leash lengthen, following rather than steering. The dog passed a pile of discarded foam, checked beneath a table, and moved toward a narrow passage behind the fabric rack.
The air smelled of adhesive, damp concrete, and old coffee. A space heater hummed near a wall outlet, though the building was chilly enough that Daniel could see his breath close to the loading door. Boone turned down the passage.
At the far end stood a metal door secured from the outside. A pair of small sneakers had been left beside it. The dog stopped, sniffed along the bottom edge, and pressed forward. Daniel held him back a few inches.
Behind the door, something scraped.
“Police,” Daniel said. “There are adults here to help you.”
The scraping stopped. One of the officers tried the keys recovered outside. The second key turned the lock. When the door opened, a boy stood directly in front of it with a broken plastic ruler held in his fist.
Three younger children were crowded behind him. Daniel gave Boone the signal to lie down and stepped only far enough inside to keep the door from closing.
“What’s your name?”
The boy’s eyes moved from Daniel’s face to the dog. “Put him away.”
“He’ll stay right there.”
“Put him away.”
Daniel backed Boone into the passage and asked another officer to hold his leash. The boy watched until the dog was out of sight. Only then did his hand begin to lower.
“Eli?” Daniel asked.
The boy’s grip tightened again. “How do you know?”
“Tessa told me.”
Eli looked past him. “Where is she?”
“At a hospital. Someone’s staying with her.”
“She came back?”
“She asked us to come for you.”
The ruler slipped from Eli’s fingers. It struck the concrete and lay between them. He put his hands against his thighs, pressing down hard.
“She said she would.”
Daniel moved aside so the other officers could enter. A little boy in socks began crying without seeming to notice he was doing it. The girl beside him had one shoe on and held the other against her chest.
“We have warm blankets outside,” an officer told them. “And people who can check if anything hurts.”
Eli didn’t move. Daniel counted again. Four.
“Where’s June?”
The boy looked toward the far corner of the room. A workbench stood against the wall, its lower shelf covered by hanging upholstery fabric. A heap of offcuts had been pushed beneath it.
“She got under there when he said we were leaving,” Eli said.
Daniel knelt several feet away. “June? My name’s Daniel.”
Nothing answered. The other children began moving toward the doorway. Eli turned to follow them, then stopped.
“I’m not leaving her.”
“You can stay here with me.”
A paramedic came into the passage carrying blankets. Daniel told her one child was still beneath the bench and asked her to remain nearby. He could see only darkness under the hanging material. When he lifted one loose corner, Eli caught his sleeve.
“Don’t pull it.”
Daniel stopped.
“She’ll go farther back.”
“How far does it go?”
“I don’t know.”
Daniel lowered the fabric and shifted to the side. Behind the workbench, a narrow gap ran between a storage partition and the wall. There was enough space for a small child to squeeze in, but not enough for him to reach without moving things. He called June’s name again.
A faint rubbing sound came from inside. “Boone’s going to come back,” he told Eli. “I’ll keep him with me.”
The boy’s shoulders rose. “He bites.”
“I’ll keep him beside me. He can help us find June.”
Eli watched the doorway while the officer returned the leash. Daniel brought Boone in slowly, then let him work beside the bench. The dog’s nose moved across the fabric. He stepped past the place where Daniel had first lifted it and turned toward the gap behind the partition.
There he stopped. Daniel followed his line of attention and lowered his face close to the floor. A small hand lay in the space beyond the bench leg, fingers tucked beneath a cheek.
“June,” he said. “I can see your hand.”
The hand disappeared. Boone leaned forward, curious about the movement. Daniel stopped him and guided him down beside the bench, where the girl could see his face without having him approach. Eli crouched on Daniel’s other side.
“It’s okay,” he said.
A small voice answered. “You always say that.”
Eli flinched. “I didn’t know,” the boy said.
June made no reply. The paramedic knelt at the doorway. She asked Daniel whether the girl was moving, and he nodded. He could hear quick breathing from behind the partition now.
He wanted to get a clear look at her. He wanted her outside, away from that room and the locked door. His hand had already gone toward the hanging fabric before he made himself put it flat on the floor.
“Can I move this piece?” he asked.
“No.”
“Okay.”
Eli looked at him. Daniel waited. Boone turned his head and brushed his wet nose against Eli’s wrist. The boy pulled away, then looked down at the dog with startled annoyance.
“He’s wet.”
“He’s been putting his nose on everything.”
Eli wiped his wrist on his jeans. Boone settled his chin on the floor again. From the gap came a slight movement. June’s face appeared behind the bench leg, one eye visible through a space between the fabric and the partition.
Daniel kept looking at the floor near her rather than directly into her hiding place.
“Are you staying?” she asked Eli.
“I’m staying.”
Her gaze moved to Boone. “Him too?”
“Right here,” Daniel said.
Her hand emerged slowly. She touched the floor in front of the dog, then withdrew it when he lifted his nose. Daniel rested his palm on Boone’s shoulder.
“He’s just sniffing your hand.”
June tried again. This time her fingertips reached his ear. The dog remained still beneath Daniel’s hand. The girl rubbed the soft edge between her thumb and finger, watching for any change in him.
“I need to come farther out to touch him,” she whispered.
“You can.”
She moved one shoulder past the partition. Daniel saw how tightly she had folded herself into the space and asked the paramedic to come a little closer. June began shaking when she saw another adult.
“No.”
The woman stopped. “I’m going to stay beside Eli,” she said.
June looked from one face to the next. Then she pushed herself back into the gap.
“I’m not coming out.”
Daniel moved Boone an inch closer to the bench and sat down on the dirty floor. “Tell me what you need.”
June’s hand returned to the dog’s ear. “The door.”
Daniel looked behind him.
“Keep it open,” June said.
He called to the officer in the passage, who wedged the metal door wide with a heavy stool. June craned her head until she could see the strip of hallway beyond it. Then she pulled her knees forward.
Daniel stayed seated while the paramedic helped her clear the bench leg. When June was finally out, she went straight to Eli and caught his shirt in both fists. The boy folded his arms around her. His chin trembled, but he held on while the paramedic wrapped a blanket around them.
Outside, the other children waited with officers beside an ambulance. Nobody separated Eli and June as they crossed the loading bay. Daniel followed with Boone, counting each small figure as they reached the open doors.
Five.
He found the reward pouch at his belt and gave Boone two treats. The dog ate them without ceremony, then checked Daniel’s hand for a third. Daniel laughed once and had to turn away.
He stayed until the children had been checked and arrangements were made for their care. The man from the loading bay had been taken away. Brooks was speaking with the officers handling the building, and the upholstery workers next door stood outside, watching the ambulances with their music finally turned off. Daniel was putting Boone into the vehicle when his phone rang.
Ruth’s name appeared on the screen. “Tessa’s parents are here,” she said. “She backed away when she saw them. She’s asking if you can take her back to Eli…”
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