15
E mily blasted through the cabin door, calling out to her daughter, “Ava! I’m home.” She sprinted through the empty living room, her heart pounding as her eyes caught only the sight of her daughter’s toys scattered across the floor.
She combed through the entire cabin, her voice tinged with rising panic. “Ava, where are you?” Rushing to the patio doors, she flung them open and called out to Ava once again. Her eyes went straight to the empty sandbox, and dread gripped her heart. They were gone.
Her breath came in panicked gasps as she dashed back inside and frantically searched for Roman’s phone. When it was nowhere to be found, she bolted back to the car and sped a few miles down the road to a neighboring cabin, her mind racing with the urgency to call the police. Pulling up, she immediately noticed the front door was ajar. Cautiously, she approached the house and poked her head inside, calling out, “Hello! Is anyone home?”
Swinging the door wider, she stepped inside and called, “Hello?” Her voice echoed through the house as she continued walking down the hallway. She hurried into the kitchen past the living room, her heart pounding with every step, praying to find a phone.
At last, she spotted a landline phone mounted on the wall and sighed relief. She raced toward it, but her foot caught on something on the floor, causing her to slide. Desperately, she grabbed the kitchen counter to steady herself, narrowly avoiding a fall. Regaining her balance, she lunged across the room, seized the phone, and quickly dialed 9-1-1.
“911, what is your emergency?”
“My daughter has been kidnapped. Please send help.”
“Ma’am, I need you to stay calm. What is your location?”
“I’m at a cabin on Oak Tree Road. I don’t know the address.”
“Okay, I’m going to need you to go check the house number. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, hold on.” Emily put the phone down on the counter and turned to leave. It was then that she saw the blood smear she had slipped in. “Oh my God!”
She ran outside to check the house number, then hurried back inside and picked up the phone again. “I’m at 87 Oak Tree Road. I think something bad has happened. The front door was open when I got here, no one was home... there’s blood on the kitchen floor. I slipped in it.”
“Okay, help is on the way. What is your name?”
“Emily Anderson.”
“All right, Emily, I’m going to need you to tell me everything you can about your daughter.”
“Her name is Ava. She’s four years old. She has brown hair and brown eyes. She is with Roman Martinez.”
“You know who took her?”
“Yes, he was watching her for me. When I returned, they were gone.”
“Maybe they just went out for a moment. Did you try calling him?”
Emily felt a pang of foolishness. Why didn’t I think to call him? Maybe he’d tell me where they went . But then she pushed the thought aside. No , she told herself. If he just stepped out, he would have left a note. “Ma’am, there’s so much more to this than just a kidnapping. I can explain everything to the officers once they get here. Do you know how much longer it will be?”
“They are on their way; it shouldn’t be much longer now.”
“Can you tell me what Ava was wearing today?”
“A pair of jeans, a pink top, and pink sneakers.”
Hearing the wail of sirens outside, Emily’s heart raced. “They’re here. I have to go,” she said hurriedly, then hung up the phone and rushed outside. As she stepped onto the porch, she saw the officers approaching. “My daughter has been taken,” she cried, her voice trembling along with her entire body. “Please, you have to find her.”
Already aware of the situation, the officer reassured her, “An Amber Alert is being issued for your daughter as we speak.” Placing a comforting arm around her shoulders, he gently turned her towards the house. “Let’s go inside and talk,” he said, guiding her back indoors.
Together, they walked inside, and Emily said urgently, “I need to show you something.” She led him into the kitchen and pointed to the smear of blood on the floor.
“Whose blood is that?” the officer asked, his eyes narrowing.
“I don’t know,” Emily replied, her voice tinged with worry. “I don’t even know who lives here. The door was open when I arrived, and there was no one home.”
“Don’t touch anything,” the officer instructed, reaching for the radio on his shoulder. He called the dispatcher and requested immediate assistance to process the crime scene.
“Let’s talk in the living room,” he suggested. As they exited the kitchen, he added, “We’re going to need a recent picture of your daughter.”
Emily frowned. “I don’t have my phone with me, I’ll have to get one from home.”
In the living room, Emily sank onto the couch and buried her face in her hands. “I should never have left her with him,” she sobbed, her voice filled with regret.
“Left her with who?”
Emily removed her hands from her face and looked across the room at the officer. “Roman,” she said.
It was then that something caught her eye. On the table beside a candy dish lay Ava’s small plastic Dora doll. Her heart skipped a beat as she jumped to her feet and rushed to the table. “That’s Ava’s,” she exclaimed, picking up the doll.
She held it out to the officer, a sickening feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. What if that blood was hers? she thought, her mind racing with fear.
“They were here. He must have come to steal a car,” Emily said, her voice trembling. She put a hand to her mouth, her eyes widening in horror. “Oh my God. Do you think he killed the homeowner?”
“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out,” the officer replied, his expression grave. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and quickly dialed a number. As he started speaking on the phone, his voice took on a tone of urgency. “Hey, it’s me. I need you to find out the homeowner’s name for 87 Oak Tree Road. Once you have it, run their name through the DMV database to get me the make, model, and license plate of their car. Thanks.”
Just as he hung up the phone, his partner walked into the living room. The officer looked up and asked, “Anything?”
“No, the house is clear,” his partner replied.
“What about the property?” the officer questioned further.
“I’m heading out to check now,” his partner responded, then turned and left the living room, stepping outside to continue the search.
Over the next hour, the crime scene lab meticulously processed the house but found no new evidence aside from the blood smear. The officer received a call confirming that the homeowner was Jim Longford, an eighty-two-year-old widower. Further investigation revealed that Jim drove a 2016 gray Honda Civic with the license plate number HDX 9170. This critical information was promptly added to the Amber Alert, indicating that Roman and Ava might be traveling in the mentioned vehicle.
“What now?” Emily asked the officer as the crime scene technicians began packing up to leave.
“We’re done here,” the officer replied, his voice tinged with resignation. “Now we wait for updates from the Amber Alert.” He glanced at Emily; sympathy evident in his eyes. “I can give you a ride back to the station. Do you have someone you can call to pick you up from there?”
“Yes,” Emily nodded. “But I’d like to stick around awhile just in case any news comes in.”
He offered a reassuring smile, “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”