Chapter 4 - The Shadow of Westbridge
"Absolutely not," Brooks ordered, grabbing his keys. "Mrs. Bennett, you are eight months pregnant. You are not going near that house."
"Then you follow me," Rachel countered without hesitation. "You follow me because a concerned citizen reported a disturbance. You park down the street. If I knock on that door, or if I hear a child screaming, you have exigent circumstances to enter without a warrant to save a life."
Brooks stared at her, astonished by her resolve. "That is wildly dangerous."
"My husband was killed because people looked the other way when someone was doing something wrong," Rachel said, her voice dropping to a low, powerful tone. "I spent seven months feeling helpless. I am not going to sit in this station and watch another family get destroyed."
Eli grabbed Rachel’s hand. "I know how to get into the basement from the outside. There's a storm cellar door near the garden. Mark keeps it padlocked, but the wooden frame is rotted."
Brooks swore under his breath, rubbing his forehead. He looked at the boy, then at Rachel. "Fine. But you stay in my vehicle until I give the sign. We do this smart, or we don't do it at all."
Ten minutes later, Detective Brooks’ unmarked police cruiser glided quietly down Crestview Drive, its headlights switched off. The rain was falling harder now, sweeping across the dark, high-end suburban neighborhood in heavy curtains.
house at 1442 Crestview Drive was dark, save for a single light glowing from a basement window near the ground.
In the driveway stood a dark black SUV with its engine idling quietly. The rear hatch was wide open.
"He’s loading the car," Brooks whispered into his radio handset. "Dispatch, step up that unit response. I am on scene at Crestview Drive. Active suspect movement."
Suddenly, the side door of the garage opened. Mark Halston stepped out into the rain, wearing a heavy yellow rain slicker. He was carrying a large, heavy duffel bag in one hand, and in the other, he carried a portable plastic baby carrier covered with a thick blanket.
"He has Lucy," Eli whimpered from the back seat, leaning forward against the headrest. "That's her carrier!"
Rachel felt her heart hammer against her ribs. "Brooks, he’s leaving! If he gets in that car, we’ll lose him!"
"Wait," Brooks commanded, unholstering his firearm. "I need him to step away from the child before I engage. If he’s armed, I can’t risk a crossfire near that carrier."
Mark set the baby carrier carefully onto the rear bumper of the SUV. He turned back toward the garage, leaving the hatch open, clearly intending to grab another bag.
"Now," Brooks grunted, cracking his car door open. "Stay here!"
Brooks vaulted out of the cruiser, stepping into the torrential rain with his weapon raised.
"Mark Halston! Police! Put your hands on your head!" Brooks roared, his voice cutting through the sound of the storm.
Mark froze in the garage doorway. For a fraction of a second, he looked trapped.
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Then, with horrifying speed, Mark reached into his slicker, pulled out a heavy metal object, and threw it with precision at the motion-sensor security floodlight above the garage. The bulb shattered, plunging the entire driveway into near-total darkness.
A gunshot cracked through the night.
