The officer had a deep voice like Daddy’s.
When Gracie didn’t come, the man in black leaned in, slipped his big hands beneath her arms, and lifted her out. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She felt engulfed by his strength. “You’re safe, Grace. No one is going to hurt you.” He held her easily, his voice gentle. “I have a little girl about your age. Her name is Ellie.”
Another black-garbed officer stood behind him, but turned away, speaking into a radio mounted on his shoulder. Gracie’s body shook like the last leaf of autumn clinging to a broken branch.
“We’re taking you out of here, Grace. I want you to put your head on my shoulder and close your eyes tight.”
Gracie twisted in his arms. “I want Mommy. Where’s Mommy?”
The officer’s arm tightened beneath her, and she felt his hand cup the back of her head. “Close your eyes, honey. Just for a minute. Can you do that for me, Grace?”
“I want Mommy.” Her voice quavered and tears came.
The other officer took a pink parka with a hood from the closet. “Use this.”
“Good idea.” The officer set her down and put the jacket on her. The officer zipped the jacket all the way to the top and pulled the hood up over her head. When she tried to push it back so she could see, he brushed her hands away. “Leave it.” He lifted her again.
Carried down the hall in strong arms, Gracie felt the air change from warm to cold. When the police officer stepped down, Gracie knew she was outside the house. She peeked out from beneath the hood and saw police cars parked out front, red lights flashing. Two men pulled something on wheels out of a big white van. Mrs. Channing, the next-door neighbor, stood on the lawn, crying and hugging herself as she talked with another police officer.
Gracie struggled. “Mommy!” She couldn’t see her anywhere. Where was she? “Mommy!”
The officer lowered her to the ground. Hunkering in front of her, he held her by the arms. “You’re going to be okay.”
“I want my mommy.”
His eyes grew moist. “I know you do, honey. Your mommy and daddy wouldn’t want you to see them like this.”
What did that mean? Tears poured down her cheeks. Men came and went from the house. Why were all these people here? Why wouldn’t the policeman let her back inside? Why didn’t Mommy come when she called? Why did Daddy have a gun? Why was Mrs. Channing crying and all bent over? Gracie tried to pull away, but the officer wouldn’t let go of her arms. She screamed for Mommy. Mommy was in the kitchen. She knew she was. The light was still on. Two men were standing in there. She could see them through the window. “Mommy!”
Another van pulled up with big letters on the side. The side door slid open, and a woman got out quickly with a microphone and a man with a camera. The officer holding Gracie captive said a short, sharp word Daddy said when he was mad. He looked around. “Can someone give me a little help here?”
Mrs. Channing hurried over. “I can take her to my house.” She took Gracie by the hand. “Come on, honey-child. I’ll make you some hot cocoa and read you a story. They’ll come get you in a little while.” Gracie thought she meant Mommy and Daddy would come, and left with Mrs. Channing willingly. When they went inside the house next door, Mrs. Channing asked if Gracie was hungry. Did she want some dinner? Some cookies? Did she want to watch TV? “Oh, honey, you’re wet.” Mrs. Channing looked ready to cry again. “I still have some of my daughter’s clothes. Come on, now. Let’s get you a nice warm bath.”
It wasn’t Mommy and Daddy who came to get Gracie. It was a woman with dark hair, a stranger Gracie had never seen before. Mrs. Channing didn’t know her either, but took the business card from her hand and invited her inside. Before Gracie could understand what was happening, she found herself buckled in the backseat of the woman’s car. She tried to open the door, but it was locked. She twisted around in the seat, trying to claw her way to the back window as she screamed for Mommy. The woman talked in a calm voice as she drove, and Gracie’s house disappeared behind her.
The night darkened as Gracie moved from a car to an office where another stranger, a gray-haired lady this time, told Gracie to sleep on the sofa. The woman covered her with a soft blanket and gently brushed the hair back from her face. “Just close your eyes and try to sleep.” The two women shuffled papers and talked in low voices. One made several phone calls.
Gracie didn’t want to go to sleep, but awakened confused when the gray-haired lady put a hand on her shoulder. “We have a place for you.” She said a nice foster couple was waiting to meet her. What was a foster couple?