Sammy was staring at him, hard. This was more of a challenge than he thought it would be.
“You cannot—absolutelycannot—go to her. Do you understand?”
He waited, watching her struggle with this. Finally, she muttered, “Okay.”
He kissed her forehead. “Good girl.”
Hand in hand, they went downstairs and found Miranda. “Are you ready for an exciting day?”
“My teacher is bad,” Sammy blurted.
Miranda glanced at Dakota. “Yes, that’s right. It’s good we found out the truth.” Then she showed Sammy the computer screen. “I found a fun game that’s going to teach us about numbers.”
Dakota left his daughter in the competent hands of her nanny and found Providence working in the office. “I’m not finding any social media accounts for Randy or Lizzie.”
“No surprise there,” he said.
Providence pulled her phone off her desk. “I’m letting Beeker know.”
“What does Liz look like?”
“Blonde, usually wears her hair in a ponytail. Slim figure. Not much makeup. Maybe five-five. Nothing stands out, like a tat or an accent.”
Providence put the call on speaker.
“Detective Beeker,” he answered.
“Hey, Aaron, it’s Providence Reynolds. Lizzie Maddox was Samantha Luck’s preschool teacher. We’re concerned she’ll make a play for her.”
“Thanks for the update. I’ve got a BOLO out on her and will let you know if we get a hit.”
Providence thanked him and hung up.
“They’d better be on the lookout for her,” Dakota grumbled. “If she comes near my child, I’m gonna kill her. You know that, right?”
“Not unless I kill her first,” Providence replied.
That evening, Dakota made sure Sammy’s bedroom window was locked. After he and Providence kissed her goodnight, they sat at the top of the stairs—two sentries guarding the innocent.
THREE DAYS LATER, no one had left the house, except when he and Providence had taken Sammy to the playground, or when Miranda had gone to the grocery store, escorted by Marcus.
Dakota had reached out to Luther, but ALPHA couldn’t take on the case since Lizzie wasn’t a convicted criminal. His own extensive search had turned up nothing. It was like she’d never even existed.
At night, he snoozed on the sofa, waking at the slightest sound, and checking surveillance for anyone skulking around the house. Providence caught a few hours of sleep in the hallway outside Sammy’s bedroom, or on the floor by her bed. Twice, Sammy woke, excited to see Providence was having a sleepover in her bedroom.
Dakota had reached his breaking point.
After tucking Sammy into bed, they were sitting at the top of the stairs when Detective Beeker called Providence.
“Hey, Aaron, tell us some good news.”
“Lizzie Maddox’s car was found at a shopping center in Berkeley, West Virginia. It’s about an hour and a half northwest.”
“Was her decomposed body in it?” Dakota asked wryly.
“No,” Beeker replied. “We’re working with the Berkeley P.D. and hope to pick her up in the next few days.”
Dakota would stay vigilant until she was behind bars or dead. At the moment, she was neither.
