Kingston Kidnappings (What Happens In Vegas Book 3) by Matt Lincoln (great book club books .txt) 📗

able to tackle her to the ground before she made it to her car. Her keys were clutched in her right hand and covered in my blood.

“Help!” she screamed. “Somebody help me!” I forced her arms behind her back and was just getting the handcuffs clicked around her wrists when Finch came running up to us. I could see a few of the neighbors beginning to gather around as well. A few of them were holding their phones out and recording the altercation.

“Are you okay?” Finch asked as he leaned down to help me haul Mrs. Bradshaw off the ground. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” I answered, wincing as Mrs. Bradshaw continued to screech at the top of her lungs. “She got me with her keys. I think I’ll be okay.” Charlie came rushing up to us at that moment.

“Everything okay?” Charlie asked, grimacing at Mrs. Bradshaw. “Naomi and I could hear her wailing from inside.”

“Yeah,” I confirmed. “I got distracted when Naomi yelled, and she attacked me and tried to flee. Is everything okay in there? Why’d she yell like that?”

“She found another kid,” Charlie replied grimly, and we all fell silent, even Mrs. Bradshaw.

My heart fell at the news. Even though we’d suspected it, it was still awful to discover that we’d been right.

“Shoot,” Fitch responded solemnly, shaking his head. “I’ll call for more backup, then.”

7

Naomi

“Oh, my word!” I exclaimed as I opened the small cabinet under the sink. I’d been looking for any traces of a child, but I’d still been surprised to see a pair of large brown eyes staring back at me from beneath the piping.

“Hello, there,” I smiled at the small child. “Do you speak Patois?” The little girl nodded, and I reached my hands out toward her. She hesitated at first but then placed her hands in mine and allowed me to pull her out of the cabinet.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Charlie asked as he ran into the kitchen. “I heard you yell.”

“Sorry about that,” I replied. “I was startled.”

His eyes drifted over to the open cabinet in front of me, and I saw him visibly flinch as his gaze landed on the small child huddled inside.

“I’m not surprised,” Charlie raised an eyebrow, looking down at the little girl. She was even smaller than Kamya and looked like she was four or five years old. I wondered if she might be Kamya’s little sister, but before I could ask her, I heard screams coming from the front yard.

“Go,” I told him, “I’ll stay here with her.” Charlie nodded before taking off, and I turned back to the little girl in front of me. “I’m Naomi. Can you tell me your name?”

“Fatima,” she responded. She wasn’t Kamya’s sister, then.

“Okay, darling,” I smiled at her. “Why don’t you come and sit with me? I’m going to call some friends of mine who will take you to a nice place, okay? You won’t have to stay in this house anymore.” Fatima smiled, and my heart broke at how eager she seemed to leave this place. I took her hand and led her into the living room before gesturing for her to have a seat on the couch.

“I can’t,” she replied sadly. “I’m not allowed on the couch.” I felt a jolt of white-hot fury burn through me at that, but I kept the sweet smile plastered onto my face for her sake.

“It’s alright,” I told her as I knelt down to look her in the eyes. “You don’t have to listen to them anymore. So how about you sit right there, and I’ll turn the tv on for you? Are you hungry?” She nodded, and I made a mental note to make as much of a mess of the Bradshaws’ refrigerator and kitchen as I could. It was incredibly petty, but short of physically harming them, which would definitely land me in trouble, it was the best I could do.

Before I did that, though, I needed to go check on Charlie and Junior. I put on some kids’ show for Fatima and was happy to see the overjoyed look that came over her face. I walked to the open doorway just as Finch was putting Mrs. Bradshaw into the back of his police car. I could see several of the neighbors milling about and filming the scene, and I was glad that I’d chosen to stay inside with Fatima. The last thing she needed was people gawking at her for taking videos of her.

“Hey, is the kid okay?” Junior asked as he and Charlie walked back into the house.

“She’s fine,” I responded quietly, nodding at Fatima, who was completely absorbed in the program.

“Good,” Junior nodded. “It’s amazing how resilient kids can be.”

“That’s very true,” I agreed. “I think this discovery confirms what we feared about the possibility of more people in the neighborhood having child slaves in their homes.”

“Two out of two,” Charlie remarked. “Sure seems that way.”

“We need to tell Finch to send more backup,” I replied. “A lot more. By now, any of the other neighbors who are participating will have heard about what happened to the Weavers and now what’s happened to Mrs. Bradshaw. They may try to escape. We need to stop that before it happens. Charlie, can you go park the van so it will block the main entrance of the street until the police arrive? I’ll go tell Finch about our suspicions, and Junior can stay here to watch Fatima until child services arrives.”

“Alright,” Junior agreed.

“Okay,” Charlie nodded. “Time is of the essence now. We need to move fast.” He took off out of the house and down the street to the Weavers where we’d parked the car. In the meantime, I headed over to Finch’s car. Mrs. Bradshaw was screaming again, and he looked as though he was trying his best to block out the noise.

“Officer Finch,” I greeted as I made my way up to him. “We’re going to need a lot more manpower here. We have reason to