Page 69 of Missing

On one, I put my weight behind my leg and knocked the door open with one solid kick. We heard a muffled scream as the door swung open violently. I stepped back, giving Maxwell and Jones room to enter. I drew my gun and held it close to my body with the muzzle pointed at the ground as I followed Jack in.

The cabin had an open floor plan; the living room and kitchen were to the left, and there were two closed doors off to the right. Jones and Maxwell took the door at the far end while Jack and I took the other one.

We took up position on either side of the second door, covering it and the open space, while Jones and Maxwell searched their room. We heard, “clear,” a second before they exited.

Chase is in this room.

My heart beat faster as sweat broke out on my forehead.

He has to be.

Foxtrot One took up position to cover the living space while we searched our room.

When Jack and I turned towards each other, he signaled he’d open the door. I’d go in first. I nodded and waited for his signal.

Please, God, let us find Chase safe and sound.

When he nodded, I counted off the longest three seconds in my life.

Focus!

Jack opened the door and I rushed in, gun at the ready. Jack was right behind me.

It took us less than half a second to see her huddled in the corner, holding Chase with her hand over his mouth. Smith’s scream pierced the silence as soon as she saw our guns.

Relief made my knees weak but I couldn’t give in. We’d found Chase but he wasn’t out of the woods yet.

Tears streamed down Chase’s face as he tried to wiggle out of her grasp. He looked scared, but unharmed, as he stared at us, his eyes wide with shock and fear.

We lowered our guns but didn’t holster them—we still weren’t sure if she’d resort to violence.

I saw the instant Chase recognized us. His tear-filled, red-rimmed eyes doubled in size, and he tripled his efforts to break free, punching and kicking at Smith.

She had the strength of a woman possessed as she held him to her chest. One arm was wrapped like a vice grip around his tiny neck while her other hand covered his mouth to keep him from screaming.

I took a deep breath before whispering, “cover me,” without moving my lips.

As soon as I heard Jack say, “covering,” I holstered my gun and held my hands out in front of me. Smith looked confused as she looked from me, to Chase, to Jack.

“It’s over Mrs. Smith. Let Chase go.” I used his name, reminding her he wasn’t her late son, as I sank to one knee.

“Scotty?” Her voice shook with grief and fear.

Maintaining my posture, I slid a little closer every time she shifted her focus away from me. She didn’t register the change in my location.

I need to get closer. Close enough to physically restrain her if I needed to. I doubted it’d come to that. I could see the pain and confusion in her eyes. It wasn’t hard to find compassion for her, despite everything she’d done. “Mrs. Smith, Jill,” I held out my hand, palm up, and pointed to Chase, “that’s not Scotty. His name is Chase.”

She blinked a few times, tears rolling down her face as she looked for answers in Chase’s hair.

I slid closer still.I can reach her if I lean forward. But would I be fast enough?

She dropped her hand from his mouth and asked, “Where's Scotty?”

As soon as she did, he yelled, “Uncle Jack Mr. Doug,” and started squirming again. I slid a few inches closer when she looked at Jack, struggling to grasp the reality in front of her.

“It’s okay, Jill. It’s time to let go.”

With a sob, she let her arm fall slack, and crumpled in a heap on the floor, burying her face in her hands. I could see her shoulders shaking as I instructed Chase, “Run to your Uncle Jack.”

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