Page 1 of Muted

Prologue

Green Eyes

Officer Kevin Cooper

~ 20 years ago ~

“10-49. Officer Cooper and Officer Reiner, proceed to 1873 East Slinger, Lot 22. A neighbor reported hearing a child crying over the past few days. Possible missing person as well.”

Grabbing my radio, I answer the call while punching the address into the GPS on our dashboard. Reiner flips the lights on and signals the car to turn around to head back toward town. “Acknowledge 10-49. En route to 1873 East Slinger, Lot 22.”

“I hate these kinds of calls,” Reiner complains while picking up speed. Our GPS says our call is about ten minutes away. I guarantee he’ll have us there in under five.

Snorting, I keep an eye on the traffic as an extra set of eyes to make sure we don’t encounter any idiots trying to slip in front of us. “I don’t mind them. Most of the time they’re junk calls. Nosey neighbors who have nothing better to do than stare out their windows and judge everyone else.”

“It’s a waste of time. Dealing with shitty ass parents who have shitty ass, snot-nosed kids. I swear, people should have to apply for permission before they’re allowed to have children.”

Rolling my eyes, I ignore my rising irritation with my partner. “Fuck off with that shit. It’s not the kid’s fault they were born. And not everyone has an upper middle-class mommy and daddy to tie their shoes for them.”

When he starts to argue, I ignore him and repeat the speech I have prepared for our captain to request a reassignment in my head. I need a new fucking partner.

The moment we pull up to the trailer on Lot 22, I push my door open and shut it on Reiner mid-sentence. I can’t listen to him anymore, and the woman, who I assume made the call, is standing outside in her robe, hugging her body to ward off the chill.

“Morning ma’am. Are you the one that called in about—” My words are cut off when a muffled wail sounds from the run-down trailer sitting toward the back of the lot.

Nodding her head toward the home, she gives me a small smile. “I truly hope it’s nothing. I apologize if I dragged you out here for no reason, but I’ve been hearingthatfor over two days now.”

Reiner makes his way over to us, staring at the trailer with a look of disdain. I know he’s judging whoever lives there, but hopefully he’ll rein it in today.

Looking away from the home, I ask, “You know who lives there?”

“Yeah. Right now, it’s just the mom, Laura Evans, and her daughter, Susanna Walston. Sweet little girl. Laura’s mom used to live there as well, but she took off a few years ago.”

The continued crying is raising my anxiety, and I want to get over there. “You haven’t seen the mom?”

Shaking her head, she pushes her hair out of her face. “No. It’s been at least four or five days since I noticed her. Laura is a smoker and sits out front pretty often. Plus, her car is there, so I would have seen her. The girl has been mixed up in drugs and partying for a long time, so I’m worried that… well… I’m worried she’s in there and is maybe not doing so good.”

I turn toward my partner and jerk my head toward the continuous sobbing. “I’m going in there. Finish up with her, would you?” With a quick thank you to the neighbor, I leave before Reiner responds. Considering his dislike of children, I knew there wouldn’t be any argument.

Broken glass crunches underneath my boots as I stride across the half-dead lawn. Even underneath the cloud covered morning sky, I still see the sparkle of the smashed beer bottles littering almost every inch of this place.How the fuck is a little kid supposed to play out here?

The dilapidated wooden steps creak underneath my weight as I step up to the entrance. Pounding my fist on the door, I can feel the weakness as the wood bows inward with each knock. The little girl’s sobbing gets louder as I hear her moving around inside.

“Laura Evans? Would you come to the door?” I call out, then listen for any movement within the trailer.

Fucking nothing.

Nothing except for Susanna Walston crying and now tugging on the door. I try the handle, but it’s locked. “Susanna, can you move away, honey?”

It’s a moot point. Just by the sound of her, I can tell she’s young and there’s no way she is calm enough to listen. Hopping down from the steps, I walk over to the window and knock in an attempt to draw her away from the door.

“Susanna, will you come over here for me?”

I hear her let the door go and her high-pitched, broken voice grows louder as she walks to where I’m standing. The curtains shift just before I see a pair of green eyes peeking out through the dirty window.

“Good girl, Susanna. You stay right here. I’m going to come inside. Will you stay right here for me?”

When she claws her fingers against the window, my heart kicks up a notch. Her desperation spikes my adrenaline and I rush back to the entrance. I’m able to push it open with one solid shove of my shoulder. The flimsy door slams against something piled behind it and swings back toward me, but I ignore it as I walk in.

---