Chapter 3 - The House on Maple Street
Within twenty minutes, the Jefferson Elementary courtyard was swarming with emergency personnel, crime scene investigators in white protective suits, and unmarked police vehicles. Yellow police tape was strung hastily across the colorful balloon arch, transforming a place of childhood joy into a cordoned-off crime scene.
Detective Delgado pulled me aside while other officers gently coaxed Lily into the back of an ambulance wrapped in a warm silver emergency blanket. Grace refused to let go of my hand, her fingers locked tightly around mine.
“Mrs. Bennett,” Delgado said, flicking open a small leather notebook and clicking a black ballpoint pen. “I need you and your daughter to come down to the station downtown to give a formal statement. What you witnessed today is going to be crucial.”
“Of course,” I said, my heart still hammering against my ribs. “Is Lily going to be okay?”
“Child Protective Services is taking her to St. Jude’s Pediatric Hospital for a full evaluation,” Delgado replied, his face grim. “As for what’s in that backpack... our hazmat unit is handling it right now. They’ve already confirmed our worst fears.”
I swallowed hard, tasting bile. “The freezer... did she mean her mother?”
“We’ll know as soon as we breach the house on Maple Street,” Delgado said grimly, closing his notebook. “Squad car three will escort you to the precinct. Thank you, Mrs. Bennett. You and your daughter... you probably saved that little girl’s life today.”
An hour later, Grace and I sat in a small, windowless interview room at the downtown Chicago police precinct. The walls were painted a dull institutional beige, and the air smelled of stale coffee and old floor wax. A friendly female officer had brought Grace a cup of hot chocolate and a box of crayons to keep her calm while Delgado and another detective reviewed our statements.
Through the open door across the hall, I could see the activity in the main bullpen. Telephones were ringing off the hook. Detectives were shouting case numbers and rushing toward the elevators.
Then, a commotion broke out near the front desk.
“I demand to speak to the chief of police!” a sharp, frantic voice echoed down the concrete hallway. “This is an outrage! My client has been unlawfully detained without counsel!”
I stood up quietly, walking over to peek through the reinforced glass window of our room.
Walking down the hallway escorted by two uniformed officers was a sleek, impeccably dressed man in a charcoal Armani suit. His hair was silver-streaked, his jaw square, and his eyes darting around with predatory confidence. Behind him walked Melissa Ward, her handcuffs removed, still wearing her pristine white silk blouse, though her hair was slightly ruffled.
It was Richard Vance—one of the most high-priced, cutthroat defense attorneys in the entire state of Illinois.
How had she contacted a powerhouse lawyer so fast? Unless... unless she had known this day might come. Unless this wasn't her first time walking the razor’s edge of the law.
Detective Delgado walked past our door, looking furious. I stepped out into the hallway, catching his arm.
“Detective, what’s happening? Why is she out of cuffs?” I asked, my voice rising in disbelief.
Delgado scrubbed a hand over his face, looking exhausted. “Vance slapped a writ of habeas corpus on our desk twenty minutes ago. He claims the initial detention was an overreach because we didn't have positive identification of a body at the scene yet. He’s arguing that the contents of the backpack are circumstantial and that Ms. Ward is merely a concerned legal guardian.”
“Circumstantial?!” I hissed, my voice trembling with anger. “Did you see the blood? Did you smell what was in that bag?”
“We smelled it, Mrs. Bennett,” Delgado said grimly. “And our tactical team just breached the house on Maple Street ten minutes ago. We’re waiting for the field report right now.”
At that exact moment, the precinct’s heavy oak entrance doors swung open, and a rush of cold autumn wind swept through the lobby. A young officer in a bulletproof vest came sprinting down the hallway, holding a secure encrypted tablet in his hand. He headed straight for Detective Delgado, breathless and pale.
“Detective,” the officer gasped, his voice cracking. “We just cleared the primary residence on Maple Street.”
Delgado stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “And?”
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The young officer swallowed hard, looking down at the screen before looking up into Delgado’s eyes.
“The kitchen freezer was locked with a heavy-duty padlock and sealed with industrial silicone. When we cut the lock... we found it, sir. Sarah Parker is inside. And based on the condition of the unit... she’s been in there for at least four months.”
