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Intrigued but unconcerned, I gently knocked on the door with my knuckle. When no response came, I knocked a little louder. I thought I would hear footsteps approach the door from the other side and for shadows to appear in the light as Bianca stood on the other side.
But that didn’t happen.
No one approached and no one opened the door.
I depressed the handle and pushed the door open. The door’s bottom edge made a tearing sound as it passed over the carpet.
The lamp lay on the floor beside the side table that had been shunted aside when the window had been forced open. Cleb’s blankets lay tossed aside, the bed empty.
Cleb was gone, and so was Bianca.
The police officer flipped his notepad shut and tucked it in his pocket. I was in a daze. Waev had placed a blanket over my shoulders and a steaming cup of something hot between my hands. I hadn’t taken a single sip and didn’t even notice it there.
I was taken aback by how shiny the officer’s buttons were on his uniform. He clicked his electronic pen and it joined the notepad. It recorded everything he wrote and was automatically added to the police files. Every active police officer had access to the information instantly.
I’d just told him everything that’d occurred, from the incident in town to the social event and finally what happened just a few minutes ago upstairs when I found Cleb’s bedroom empty.
Upon discovering both Cleb and Bianca gone, I had yelled so loud I woke the entire house up. It wasn’t even a real word, but a sound. During our funeral rites, we often sang sad mournful music, no more than noises, that resonated and passed along the emotions of how we felt.
My cry had been full of pain and heart-wrenching anguish. The servants had come running. Waev placed his hands on my back as I folded and crumpled to the floor on my knees.
I knew what’d happened the moment I saw that lamp.
“Wake the guards!” I’d bellowed. “Have them search the grounds! They can’t be far!”
The guards dispersed, beginning their search outside, checking every inch of my land. The drones zoomed overhead, lights blinking, scanning the terrain for any sign of Bianca or Cleb, or their captors.
So far, they had found nothing. Only then, once they’d completed their search outdoors, had they turned inward and checked the house.
By then, the police had arrived.
“When something like this happens to someone of your station, it’s because they want a ransom,” the police officer said. “In case the call comes, we’ve set up a team in one of the other rooms so we can trace them. I assure you no effort will be spared to locate your loved ones.”
I didn’t respond. I was catatonic.
“I have a question to ask, and it might seem a little unsettling,” the police officer said.
My ears perked up. I wondered what he could ask me that he hadn’t already.
The officer ran a hand through his short hair and scratched underneath his hat.
“This new governess you hired,” he said. “Has she been with you for long?”
“A few weeks,” I said.
The officer nodded as if he thought that might be the case.
“Why do you ask?” I said.
“Do you consider her to be someone worthy of trust?” he said.
Suddenly, the police officer’s line of questioning snapped into focus. I awoke from my comatose state and burst up onto my feet. The blanket fell from my shoulders.
“You think she took him?” I yelled.
The officer spoke calmly. No doubt he was used to this kind of reaction.
“Often, the kidnapper is someone the family knows,” he said. “They work together in teams with one or more people on the inside. It’s much easier for them to kidnap the victim that way.”
