Page 11 of Stolen Ones
‘Confirm the timeline,’ Kim said.
Bryant clicked on the screen for the kitchen and set the clock for twoo’clock. She could see three adults and two older kids tidying around the area. At exactly five minutes past the hour they all froze and looked at each other. Okay, the owner was bang on with that.
‘Okay, go outside,’ Kim said.
‘Which one?’
There were four external cameras. One on the front door, one on the back door, a wide lens that covered almost all of the outside space and a fixed camera on the back gate.
‘The wide view,’ she said, poking the screen.
He adjusted the time to catch the mass exodus of kids and adults as they streamed out of the back door and headed towards the shed at the edge of the property.
Last to leave was the owner, carrying a clipboard, behind two women each carrying a young child.
‘There she is,’ Bryant said as Grace Lennard entered the screen from the other side of the garden, matching the description they’d been given while they’d been travelling towards the day centre.
Kim heard the emotion in his voice.
‘She has the exact same colour hair that Laura had at that age.’
Kim couldn’t help the feeling of sickness that stole over her as she watched the little girl dust off her dirty hands and then wipe them on her purple trousers. Blonde curls tumbled around her face, and one of the Bratz characters was visible on her white T-shirt.
Kim watched as she became part of the crowd. She started talking to the other kids, acting naturally, enjoying all of the excitement of the incident while seeing none of the danger.
Kim wanted to pause the recording, run outside and grab her to stop what was about to happen. A part of her brain fooled her that she was watching events in real time, which happened when you could see the object of your attention talking and moving before your very eyes.
Bryant’s silence told her he was thinking the exact same thing.
Everyone stayed together as Ms Newhouse took a roll call. The kids raised their hands and shouted out when their name was called.
Within minutes the owner opened the back gate and two fire officers entered.
Lock the gate, Kim screamed inside as a young girl just pushed it back into place.
Ms Newhouse accompanied the fire officers into the building.
The camera continued to record the staff and children outside. The groups moved and changed as kids joined other groups and carried on talking.
Kim kept her gaze on Grace Lennard, looking for anything out of the ordinary. There was nothing. She moved amongst her friends, chattering and laughing, secure in the knowledge that the incident was being handled by the adults.
Fifteen minutes elapsed before Newhouse returned to the group and everyone began to filter back towards the building.
Kim guessed they’d been given the all-clear by the fire service to return.
The nausea in Kim’s stomach increased as she saw Grace hanging back. She approached the last adult and pointed in the direction from which she’d come when the fire alarm had sounded. The adult nodded, and Grace left the scope of the camera. Alone.
Lock the bloody gate, she wanted to scream at the camera.
‘You want me to switch to another…?’
‘Not yet,’ Kim said. She wanted to see this camera through.
They watched an empty screen in silence until there was a movement of the gate. It opened halfway for just a few seconds before closing again.
‘Not yet,’ she said, knowing that Bryant wanted to switch cameras.
Three minutes after the gate had moved, the staff member last seen by Grace appeared on screen. It was clear she was looking and calling. Her movements became more frantic and urgent as she opened the shed door and then searched all around it. She moved out of shot, Kim guessed, to check the area Grace had been working.
