CHAPTER THREE - ELIZABETH'S POV
A bag of cookies sits on the passenger's seat, a sweet surprise for David and the girls. Work wasn't too busy and I couldn't get David's words out of my mind. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to have one day where I left work a few hours earlier; and David's right about how valuable this time with the girls is. It wasn't long before noon that I could no longer resist the overwhelming desire to head home, I asked my boss if it was okay if I left earlier. My boss said that my hours looked good and I'd been making good progress. They gave me the green light to go.
On my way home, I decided to take a quick detour to this little bakery in the area where I work. The bakery sells these cookies with cute little designs made from icing. the girls love the cookies there and today's a special day, so why not?
Their first time at the bakery was when they were two years old. David had surprised me and brought the girls to see me for my lunch hour, he said they needed some extra mommy-time. We took the girls to the bakery and the girls went cookie-crazy. They pointed and asked for every single cookie they saw. It was so adorable, we ended up getting them two cookies each and bought a dozen cookies to take home.
I'm approaching the neighborhood when a few police vehicles get in front of me and pull right into the neighborhood. I begin following the vehicle through the subdivision. As we get closer to the house, my heart begins to beat faster in my chest and I can feel sweat start to form. Each turn, the pounding of my heart gets harder. My heart is nearly beating my chest half to death as the vehicles turn onto my street.
Was there a robbery? I wonder as I get closer to the stop-sign at the end of our street. Please let David and the girls be okay? I hope they're okay. I think as I turn onto our street. The moment I'm turned onto our street, I catch the sight I dread the most. There care police cars in our driveway, some parked by the curb, police moving around the law, and police tape creating a square around the lawn. I pull over to the nearest clear curb spot, throw the car in park, throw my seatbelt off, and fly out of the car. I run to our house faster than I've ever run in my life. A police officer in front of the tape holds his arm out to stops me. "This is my house!" I yell. The officer starts to lower his arm and something in his face changes.
I'm about to say something when I see David. He's holding Taylor in one arm.
He sees me and I swear I see him become paler, "Elizabeth." he says loud enough for me to hear.
I push past the officer and rush over to David. The relief of seeing David and my baby is overwhelming. I wrap both of them in an embrace and give Taylor as many kisses on her head as I can. I take her into my arms and press her head against my lips to give her a long list. "Thank goodness you're okay." I breathe into her hair. I give her one more kiss before turning my attention to David, "What's going on here?" I ask gesturing to the police walking around he yard.
I take a look a Taylor and that's when I realize an important missing piece. My feeling of relief begins to fade and my heart starts to pound again. "Where's Lyndon?" I ask trying to stay calm. She's always wondering around, she's probably trying to get an officer to play with her. That's my girl.
I can feel the major shift in David's mood, he holds his arms out. "Elizabeth, let me see Taylor." he says in a strained-calm tone.
I back away from him and hold Taylor closer, "No." I say firmly. I look around the yard and pray to find catch sight of my baby. "Where's Lyndon?" I ask again, this time firmer and louder.
Taylor starts to whine a bit. "I'm sorry." I say in a soothing and calm voice to her. I let out a sigh and hand her over to David. With a free arm, David wraps his arm around me and whispers, "Let's go inside" in my ear. He leads me into the house. Once we're inside, I remove David's arm from my shoulder. I move in front of him and look him in the eyes.
"Tell me where my little girl is?" I demand. David whispers something in Taylor's ear before setting her down. I watch her run into the living room before turning back to David. The emotion in his eyes is the one I knew would come but dreaded. Anger rises in me, "David, you better not say what I think you're going to say." I say through clenched teeth. Tears begin to well up in my eyes.
"Elizabeth." the way he says his name is painful to hear.
"No, David. You tell me where my baby is, or I swear…" I can't finish the sentence. I let out a breath that is mixed with the start of a cry. I wipe my eyes and look back at him. "Please don't say it." It's a useless plea, but part of me wants to hold onto the hope that I'm making a bigger deal out of the situation.
"Lyndon is gone. Someone took her." Hearing those words is all it takes to cause everything in me to collapse, and I lose it. I practically fall into David and begin to weep with grief. David wraps his arms around me. I start to fight him, trying to get away from him, but I loose the power to fight. I release cries of angry-grief.
I yell at David and hit his chest a few times. How could he let this happen? Why didn't he save my baby? Why… why… why? I'm not sure when he does, but David manages to guide me into the dinning room to avoid scaring Taylor.
I don't remember much of going into the living room, but I do remember looking over my shoulder and seeing Taylor standing in the archway of the living room. She stared back at me, she was so confused. For the first time today, seeing Taylor didn't bring me any comfort or joy.
"Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt you or take one of your daughters?" a police officer asks. I've stopped crying and now I'm entirely focused on getting my baby found. The first forty-eight hours are the most important in a missing persons case.
"No one I can think of." I tell the officer. I look over at David. Does he know something I don't? I wonder. "David, can you think of anyone?" I ask.
"No, no one." he replies. He places his hand on top of my left hand.
The police officer nods his head, "Are you sure there's no one either of you can think of, no you who you've had a disagreement with recently or someone who has taken interest in your family?" the officer asks. "All information is helpful at this time."
I feel something rise in me. "I'm a working mother, I hardly notice people other than my family and co-workers. I might not be best friends with everyone I work with but I know for a fact no one I know, friend or not, would do this." I say defensively. I look at him, with what I can only imagine to be a angry and perhaps scary expression. "Instead of asking about people we don't remember or know, how about you go find my daughter!" I snap.
David squeezes my left hand, "Liz, they're doing their best." he says gently. I snap my head to look over at him I open my mouth to say something but the police officer begins to speak. He's directing his words to David, "Mr. Wilson, it's alright." Then he directs his words at me, "Mrs. Wilson, I assure you we are doing everything we can do to find your daughter."
I let out a sigh, "I don't mean to snap at you, it's just-" I remove my hand from under David's and place my face into my hands. I turn and look at David, "How could you have let this happen?" I ask him quietly.
He opens his mouth to say something but I realize I don't care or want to hear it, not right now. I rise up from my chair, "I can't sit here. My husband can answer the rest of your questions. I'm going out to search for my baby." The officer and David try to stop me, but I'm already walking out of the dinning room.
I dig my keys out of my purse and head the front door. Police officers are walking around our front yard, cameras are taking pictures, there's a few news reporters, and I feel the eyes of the neighbors on me.
Getting into the car, I throw my purse onto the passenger seat. The soft sound of something being crushed follows. I pick up my purse and find the, now crushed, bag of cookies. I grab the bag and open my door. I pour the broken cookie out of my car and start up the engine. I don't know what exactly I'm going to do, but I know one thing.
I will find my baby.
I have to find her.