Page 85 of Three Girls Gone
“Get us there.” And just like that, any caution to reserve enthusiasm was cast aside. With a little girl depending on them, they had to grasp any lead that came their way.
THIRTY-FOUR
Amanda listened to the doorbell melody finish and was about to ring it again when a petite woman wearing a T-shirt and yoga pants opened the door. She was enveloped in a cloud of strong rose-scented perfume. She looked past Amanda to Trent.
“Detective Stenson?” she asked.
“I am, and this is Detective Steele. Tessa Keirns?”
“Yes.” Tessa stepped back to let them inside. “You said you were interested in watching footage from my doorbell cam?” Tessa said, and for the first time showed a bit of hesitation.
“That’s right,” Trent told her. “Does your device just record around the time the doorbell is rung or is it triggered by a motion sensor?”
“The latter, and it’s too sensitive if you ask me.”
That ever-crippling hope was making further inroads. “What is its reach? Would it catch movement across the street, for example?”
“It does. Hence too sensitive. I want to know if someone’s on my porch, not if a neighbor’s walking by with their dog, you know?”
“I get that,” Amanda said. “But that sensitivity could beimportant here. Could we see whatever footage you have for the wee hours of this morning?”
“Sure. I have the app on my tablet, through here.” Tessa led them to the living room and grabbed it from an end table. She opened the cover, tapped on the screen, and wriggled her finger around. A few seconds later, she handed the tablet over to Trent.
He held it so that Amanda could see the screen.
“You just have to hit the play button there,” Tessa said to them, leaning across Trent’s arm to point out where to click.
“Thanks.” Trent pushed the button.
At two AM, a dark-clad figure walked partway through the lane next to the Maynards’ house. It was too dark to make out much of anything else. Digital techs might make more of it by zooming in and cleaning up the pixels.
The figure hopped the chain-link fence and went into the Maynards’ backyard.
“Did that guy just…?” Tessa had creeped in behind them and must have caught sight of the screen.
Trent pulled the tablet to himself. A matter of too little, too late, though.
“Are you guys investigating a break-in? Should I be worried about my safety? I noticed the cops down the street.” Tessa was breathing heavier, and her cheeks paled. “I live here alone.”
“We don’t believe there’s any reason for you to be concerned,” Amanda assured her.
“Okay? I don’t understand. But usually when one robbery happens in a neighborhood, more follow.”
Trent glanced at Amanda, and she nodded.
“Do you know the family who lives in that house?” he asked Tessa, pointing at the Maynards’ place on the screen.
“No. That might make me sound like a bad person. It’s just life is so busy.”
Amanda smiled at her. “It’s understandable, and you’re not the only person who doesn’t know their neighbors.”
“I know the ones on each side of me. Well, just on a first-name basis and to say hi when we see each other.”
“You’re doing better than most people,” Trent told her. “But that house is home to a family of three, including a seven-year-old girl, Eloise. She was taken from her bed last night.”
Tessa gasped. “That poor girl. Is she okay?”
“We’re not sure. That’s why we need to get to her as soon as possible,” Amanda said, urgency in her voice.
