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“Later,” Laura said and set off to take the girl home, careful to keep her head averted to avoid inhaling the smell of the dirty diaper.

Chapter Fourteen

Laura took one look at the weed-choked yard, littered with broken toys, junked auto parts, and an old sofa with ripped cushions and a missing leg, and knew this had to be the right house. When she started up the front walk, Sebastian came trotting around the corner of the house.

“He ducked in the back door and locked it,” he said and went up the front steps two at a time.

Laura reached the porch as Sebastian put a shoulder to the door and forced it open. When he swung the door wide, she caught a glimpse of the boy racing toward the rear of the house, but it was enough.

“That’s the Mitchell boy,” Laura said in surprise.

Sebastian hesitated in the doorway. “Do you know the family?”

“Not really. I had a run-in with his father a week or so ago.” Remembering the man’s hot temper, Laura stepped cautiously into the house and set the girl on the floor. She immediately toddled over to a bedraggled-looking doll on the living room’s floor and picked it up. “Hello!” Laura called. “Anybody home?”

Beyond some rustling movement coming from the rear of the house, there was only silence. Laura ventured a little farther into the room. She muttered to Sebastian, “I wouldn’t be surprised if the swine hasn’t gone off somewhere and left the children to fend for themselves.”

Sensing Laura’s wariness, Sebastian made a thorough visual inspection of the areas within their view. “Is there a mother?”

“She’s probably working,” Laura said and bent down to the little girl. “Where’s your daddy, sweetheart?”

The little girl immediately lost all expression and backed away from Laura, turned and dashed off to sit against the wall next to an old armchair.

“He knocks you around, too, does he?” Laura concluded, her dislike of the man deepening to an anger. She straightened. “This time I am going to report him. Do you see a phone?”

“No.” More sounds came from the rear. Sebastian listened for a moment, then moved toward them. “I think I’ll see what our little thief is doing.”

Laura followed him into a narrow hall that led to the back of the house. The doorway to the bathroom stood open. She glanced in, but saw nothing but a pile of dirty towels and discarded clothes.

The next door was shut. Sebastian pushed it open. Looking past him, Laura saw the unmade bed. She was almost sorry Mitchell wasn’t in it.

Sebastian swore under his breath and charged into the room. “What’s wrong?” The question was barely out of her mouth when Laura saw a pair of slim bare legs, a woman’s legs, on the floor near the foot of the bed.

Alarm shot through her as she pushed into the room. By the time Laura reached the fallen woman, Sebastian was already crouched beside her, his fingers pressed against the inside of her wrist, checking for a pulse.

Her stomach lurched sickeningly when Laura saw the woman’s face. There was little about it that resembled the woman she’d seen slipping food into Mitchell’s truck the day of the auction. Her features were distorted by dark, purpling bruises that marked nearly every inch of them. One eye was swollen completely shut, and there was dried blood on her chin from a severely cut lip, partially covered by an inexpertly applied Band-Aid with stars scattered over it, the kind meant for a child.

When Sebastian gently lowered the woman’s arm to her side, Laura asked, “Is she—”

“No. Her pulse is strong. Her breathing is steady. But she’s been severely beaten, mostly about the face, it appears, although there is some bruising on her arms.”

“And I know exactly who did it,” Laura stated, giving rise to the anger that had been simmering ever since she realized Mitchell lived in this house.

“What did you say their name is?”

“Their last name is Mitchell. That’s all I know.”

Sebastian bent close to the woman. “Mrs. Mitchell, can you hear me?” He gave her shoulder a gentle nudge. “Mrs. Mitchell?” The undamaged eye fluttered open, then closed with the release of a low moan. Sebastian tried again to rouse her. “Mrs. Mitchell!”

Again she opened the one eye. This time it stayed open as the woman attempted to focus on Sebastian. “Who . . . ?” The movement of a cut lip must have produced an instant jab of pain as her hand moved shakily to her face.

“I’m a friend of the Calders,” he answered, knowing his own name would be meaningless to her.

The woman’s obvious pain was more than Laura could take. “I’m going to find a phone and call f

or help.”

As she started to turn away, the woman’s voice lifted to stop her. “No, don’t!”

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