Dead Woman Crossing by J.R. Adler (books on motivation .txt) 📗

them as hard as she could, picturing the same hands around the neck of the person that penned that note, squeezing the life out of them.

“I’ll pull Burns off the road and then have him review them. But we’re not as set up as you’d think we’d be for a sheriff’s station.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“We’re a small town with a small budget…” He paused. “Just don’t worry about anything here. Get to your daughter. Make sure she’s safe and call me.”

Kimberley tried to push back tears. What if she was gone? What if she’d never see that smiley face again? Those rosy cheeks. Her little hands and feet. What if she never got to tell her how smart or strong or beautiful she was again?

“Okay,” was all she managed to say before ending the call.

One more mile. One more mile. She conjured up the image of Jessica right in front of her eyes. Willing it to be real. Willing it to be the face she saw when she entered Happy Trails. She needed her to be there. Her body started to ache like it did back when she was still nursing. Her breasts throbbed like her milk ducts were full, but she hadn’t nursed in over a year. She could feel her skin warm almost to a burn. Her stomach flipped and turned. It was like she was going through physical withdrawals at the very thought of losing her daughter. She wasn’t sure if this was her motherly instinct that something was wrong, that something had happened to Jessica or if she was working herself up. She tried to take deep breaths, but each one came out like a howl of a cry.

She slammed on her brakes in front of Happy Trails, throwing her door open and running toward the daycare center. Kimberley hadn’t bothered to even turn the engine off. Her mind was on one thing and one thing only: her daughter. She threw open the front door, running down the hall toward the toddler room, calling out for her daughter. She pushed her way through the closed door. “Jessica,” she panted, out of breath.

Margaret whipped her head in the direction of Kimberley. “Kimberley, are you okay?”

“Jessica.”

Kimberley scanned the room. It was full of kids running about. Some at tables coloring. Some playing with toys. Some playing kitchen. Each one she looked at wasn’t Jessica.

Relief flooded her when she spotted her beautiful little girl, sitting in a corner with her legs crossed. She appeared to be pouting. Her head down, staring at her lap.

A hand touched Kimberley’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” Margaret asked again.

Kimberley’s eyes were glued to Jessica, who hadn’t even noticed that she was in the room yet.

“Yeah. I’m fine, now. I’m okay.” All the breaths she couldn’t get out were escaping. She breathed heavily, trying to catch them.

“Good. What’s wrong, Kimberley?” Margaret forced a smile, but she was still very concerned.

“Why is she in the corner?” Kimberley asked.

“She’s been very upset today. I was going to ring you after playtime was over as it’s a bit chaotic during free play. She really wants her elephant. Usually I wouldn’t encourage this type of attachment behavior, but I know she’s still getting used to everything and it comforts her. Would you be able to bring it here? I’d like to get her to participate in some of the activities this afternoon, and I don’t think she will without it.”

Kimberley nodded. “Oh yes. Of course. I can swing by the house and bring it right back. Can I talk to her for a moment?”

“Perfect, and yes, of course. She’s your daughter.”

Kimberley took the steps toward Jessica slowly, her eyes taking in every part of her. From her pouty lips to her messy brown hair, to even the small scar on her chin that happened on a walk in Bryant Park when she fell down trying to chase the pigeons. Jessica looked as though she had just lost a friend, and she had: her stuffed Ellie. How could she have forgotten her stuffy? Jessica loved that thing. Carried it everywhere and somehow, Kimberley had forgotten it. She had been solely focused on the case. Her daughter taking a backseat to her work, and now some asshole had involved her sweet, beautiful girl. This had never happened in New York City. So much for small-town USA being wholesome and welcoming. To her, this place had been as much a cesspool as New York City so far. How could she have let this happen? There’d be no more soft stepping or taking it slow. Now that her daughter had been threatened, she was taking this case into her own hands, regardless of Sam’s thoughts on the matter. At the very least, she’d arrest the person that wrote the note. At the most, Kimberley would kill them.

She wiped her face, pushing her hair back, and forced the corners of her mouth to turn upward. She didn’t want Jessica to see her upset. Children could sense when things were wrong, as much as adults liked to believe they couldn’t. Kimberley remembered her own childhood. She always knew when things weren’t right, which was nearly all the time. She could see the bruises on her mother’s arms. And as much as her mother told her she was clumsy, she knew it was her dad that had left those marks. She had seen her mom’s face, blotchy, wet, and red. Her mother would tell her she had just watched a sad movie, but the movie was her own life.

She didn’t want any of that for Jessica. Kimberley wanted to protect her from the ugliness of the world around her for as long as she possibly could. Two-year-olds should believe in things like Santa Claus and fairies and unicorns, not in the boogeyman, not in evil, and not that their life is in danger.

“Jessica, baby,” Kimberley said, kneeling down in front of her daughter.

Jessica looked up, a smile spreading across her face. “Mommy,” she said,