Page 30 of Taken from Her
Conversations didn’t exactly stop, but they shifted—voices dropping and attention turning toward the woman in the pressed uniform who stepped inside like she was crossing into foreign territory. Diana paused in the doorway, her dark eyes sweeping the room with that careful assessment Lavender had now seen a dozen times.
But today, when Diana’s gaze found hers across the space, something passed between them that had nothing to do with police work.
“Evening, everyone.” Diana’s voice carried its usual authority, but there was something softer underneath. “Thank you for including me tonight.”
Elle nudged Hazel and whispered, “She sounds different.”
Shedidsound different. Less like she was delivering a briefing, more like she actually wanted to be here. Lavender felt her pulse kick up as Diana moved toward the counter, weaving between chairs with careful grace.
“Coffee,” Lavender asked, grateful for something to do with her hands.
“Please.” Diana’s smile was brief but genuine. “It’s been a long day.”
Their fingers brushed when Lavender handed over the mug, a handmade ceramic that was part of the set from a local artist. Diana’s eyes widened slightly at the contact, and Lavender had to look away before someone noticed the flush creeping up her neck.
“Everyone,” Lavender called, settling into her usual facilitation mode. “Let’s get started.”
Diana found a seat in the circle, not at the head where authority figures usually positioned themselves, but integrated with the group like she actually belonged there. Corinne studied her with cautious interest. Sam set down her tablet. Even Georgia looked approvingly from her strategic corner.
“Before we dive into safety strategies,” Lavender began, “I want to acknowledge what we’re all feeling. Three women we care about are still missing. That fear is real, and it’s valid.”
Nods around the circle. Corinne’s jaw tightened.
“But we’re also not helpless,” Lavender continued. “Tonight is about practical steps we can take to protect each other andimprove communication with—” She caught herself before she said “the police” like they were some distant entity. “With Chief Marten and her team.”
Diana straightened slightly. “I appreciate being here. Formal interviews only capture so much. This…” She gestured around the circle. “This is where real information lives.”
The admission surprised everyone, including Lavender. Three weeks ago, Diana would’ve never acknowledged the limitations of official procedures.
“What kind of information?” Elle asked.
Diana seemed to consider the question seriously. “The things people notice but don’t think to report. Changes in routine, unusual behavior, feeling watched. Community members often observe patterns that don’t show up in case files.”
Racquel leaned forward. “You mean like how Isabel started sitting by the door instead of her usual window table?”
“Exactly.” Diana pulled out a notebook—not the intimidating official kind, but something smaller, more personal. “When did you notice that change?”
“Two weeks before she disappeared. Maybe three.” Racquel glanced around the circle. “I mentioned it to Jordan, but we figured she was just being paranoid after what had happened to Tara.”
“Not paranoid,” Diana said firmly. “Adaptive. All three women changed their routines in the weeks before they vanished. That’s not a coincidence.”
Lavender watched the group’s energy shift. This wasn’t the distant, procedural Chief Marten they’d dealt with before. This was someone who actually listened and treated their observations like valuable intelligence instead of irrelevant gossip.
“So whoever took them was watching long enough to learn their patterns,” Sam said.
“And their changes,” Diana confirmed. “Which suggests someone with intimate knowledge of how this community responds to threats.”
The room went quiet. Lavender felt everyone processing the implications. This wasn’t a stranger hunting randomly, but someone who understood them well enough to use their own protective instincts against them.
Corinne’s voice cut through the science. “You think it’s someone we know.”
Diana’s pause was careful. “I think it’s someone who knows you. Whether that’s a personal acquaintance or through careful observation, we’re still determining that.”
“That’s terrifying,” Hazel whispered.
“It’s also useful,” Diana said. “Because intimate knowledge goes both ways. If they understand your community, your community understands them too. You’ve seen things, noticed changes, and observed behaviors that may not seem significant individually but could create a pattern when combined.”
Lavender felt something shift in her chest—pride, maybe, or recognition. This was what she’d hoped for when she invited Diana into her community space. Not just for her to be recognized as a police presence, but as a genuine partnership.
