Page 3 of Survivor
“Not yet, but the attic still needs to be searched,” his partner told him.
The crime scene techs arrived and ushered them out of the bedroom and then the ME, Roman Ward, arrived to examine the bodies. Frank and Roman had dated briefly when he was still in college and remained friends. Knowing the best examiner was there to try and determine what had happened to the young couple was of little consolation at the moment. There was still the matter of the missing boy.
Dismissed until they returned to the precinct to write up reports, Frank and Caleb volunteered to search the attic. After scouring every last square inch of the dark, dank room, Frank was climbing back down into the house when he turned and just happened to catch a sliver of light on the floor right next to the top of the fireplace tunnel to the roof. Scurrying back into the attic, Frank crawled over to the light on his hands and knees. It was in a corner where the ceiling went down at a sharp angle, prohibiting him from standing.
Taking a closer look behind a shelf that held several boxes and a sewing machine, Frank could see the faint outline of a door. “Caleb, get back up here and help me move this shelf!” he shouted over his shoulder. Once the shelf was moved and he was able to open the door, Frank was relieved to see the little boy from the pictures, Taylor. He was obviously terrified, eyes wide as he tried to crawl through the wall behind him.
“Hey there.…It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” Frank spoke softly, careful not to move or reach for the kid and possibly freak him out.
“Where’s Mom?” the boy asked, tears filling his eyes.
Frank’s heart broke for him; he’d lost everything. At least when Frank’s mom died, he still had his father and their home. But this scared little boy had no idea of the harsh reality that was now his life. The boy, Taylor, frowned and shook his head furiously, turning sideways and pulling his body farther away from Frank.
Poor thing, he was probably terrified. They didn’t yet know why or how he’d wound up hidden here, or why his parents were downstairs lying in a pool of their own blood. But there was no sense in making the boy any more frightened. So Frank scooted back a smidge and sat down, crossing his legs and loosening his posture. “Okay, it’s okay. I’ll just sit here and wait until you’re ready to come out.”
