The call came just after midnight.
Leo's phone buzzed against the dashboard of the unmarked cruiser, dragging him from a shallow sleep that he hadn't realized he'd fallen into. He groaned, smacking the screen. "Hale," he muttered, voice hoarse, "yeah?"
A frantic voice crackled through the line. "Detective Hale! My son—he's gone! Please, you have to help me!"
The voice was sharp with panic, the kind that made your stomach knot and your blood run cold. Leo was awake now, fully awake, adrenaline crawling under his skin. He glanced at the passenger seat. Alex's eyes were already open, dark and unreadable, a cup of coffee resting untouched in his long-fingered hands.
"I'm on it," Leo said. "Alex, we've got a missing child."
Alex didn't respond immediately, just studied him with that calm, assessing gaze, like he could see through Leo's frustration and straight to the root of the problem. Then he nodded once, sharply. "Give me the details."
Leo recited the address from memory. Suburban cul-de-sac, quiet street, neat houses with manicured lawns. Perfect little town. Too perfect, he thought. Danger always seemed to hide where people felt safe.
The Harper house was at the far end of the cul-de-sac. Streetlights flickered over freshly mowed lawns, white fences, and cars parked like obedient toys. Leo parked the cruiser as close to the curb as he could, the engine idling like an anxious heartbeat.
Alex stepped out beside him, his long white hair tied back neatly, eyes scanning the neighborhood in almost eerie silence. Even in the dim light, he looked like a predator sizing up the terrain. Leo shook his head. "Seriously, you could chill for five minutes."
Alex didn't answer. He never did when he wanted to appear inscrutable.
They reached the Harper's front door. Leo knocked sharply, and the door opened almost immediately. Elaine Harper was there, face pale and wet with tears, clutching her robe around her. Her eyes were wide and frantic.
"Detective Hale! Thank God you're here!" she said, voice trembling. "It's my son… Michael… he's gone!"
Leo held up a hand, motioning for her to step aside. "Ma'am, calm down. Tell me exactly what happened."
Elaine swallowed hard, her lips quivering. "I—I put him to bed at nine. I checked on him at ten—he was asleep. Then… then I woke up a few minutes ago and he was gone! His window was open!"
Leo felt the heat of anger rising. A missing child wasn't just a case; it was a ticking clock. Every second counted. He motioned for Alex to scan the property while he focused on the mother. "Did you see anyone? Hear anything unusual?"
Elaine shook her head violently. "No! Nothing! I swear!"
Alex crouched by the open window, inspecting the sill with meticulous care. "The latch's intact," he said quietly. "He didn't open it from the inside." His voice was calm, but there was a hint of steel underneath.
"Then he… he couldn't have left by the window," Elaine whispered, panic threading through her words. "It's impossible!"
Leo's jaw tightened. Impossible or not, it had happened. "Ma'am, stay inside. We're going to take a look around outside."
Elaine nodded, tears spilling freely down her cheeks. "Please… please find him…"
The cul-de-sac was eerily quiet. Even the usual hum of crickets seemed muted, as if the neighborhood itself held its breath. Leo checked the driveway and the small patch of lawn beside it. No footprints, no signs of struggle—just faint traces of dirt by the flower bed.
Alex crouched near the flowers, his gloved fingers brushing against the soil. "Something was dragged," he said, voice low. "Look here. Disturbed dirt in a narrow trail toward the side of the house."
Leo followed the direction of Alex's hand, his heart pounding. A child, barely ten, could not have disappeared without leaving evidence. And yet… the trail was subtle, almost deliberate, as if someone wanted to conceal it.
"Good observation," Leo said, his tone clipped. "Let's see where it leads."
They moved along the side of the house, the shadows stretching like fingers across the walls. The side gate was slightly ajar, creaking softly as the wind nudged it. Leo's hand went to his sidearm. "Check it," he said to Alex.
Alex pushed the gate open with a gloved hand, stepping silently into the backyard. Leo followed, senses on high alert. The backyard was pristine, almost unnaturally so—perfectly trimmed grass, toys neatly arranged in a corner, a small sandbox untouched. Nothing seemed out of place, yet the unease in Leo's stomach told him otherwise.
Then he saw it.
A small handprint, smeared in something dark, on the edge of the sandbox. Not dirt. Something heavier. Blood.
Leo's stomach dropped. "Jesus…" he muttered. Alex leaned closer, inspecting.
"Fresh," Alex said. "Minutes, maybe less than an hour."
Elaine's cry echoed from the front porch. Leo shot her a glance. "Stay put. We're going to get him."
The backyard led to a narrow alley between the Harper house and the next. Leo's eyes swept the perimeter. "Nothing," he muttered. "No footprints beyond this."
Alex, ever methodical, crouched again. "The blood trail disappears here. Whoever took him knew exactly what they were doing. This wasn't random."
Leo's fists clenched. Hotheaded as ever, he wanted to barge through, storm into the house, demand answers. But Alex's cold, calculating presence held him back, reminding him to think. "We need to check the house again," Alex said quietly. "From the inside."
Leo nodded reluctantly. He didn't like waiting, didn't like moving slow. But Alex's instinct was rarely wrong.
Inside the Harper house, Elaine paced like a caged animal. "He was just here! My baby! Where is he?"
Leo kept his tone firm but soft. "Ma'am, we'll find him. But we need you to answer questions clearly. Did anyone visit today? Did anyone unusual approach the house?"
Elaine shook her head. "No! Nothing! It's been quiet all day… I don't understand!" Her words trembled, and Leo caught the flicker of something else—something almost rehearsed in the panic, too perfect, like a mask slipping.
He dismissed the thought. Not now. Focus.
Alex moved silently through the house, inspecting the hallway, the children's rooms, the staircase. Everything looked normal. Michael's room was neat, the bed untouched. The window was open, the curtains swaying softly.
Leo noticed a small footprint on the sill, smudged. He knelt to examine it. "He was here," he muttered. "But he didn't climb out alone. Someone took him."
Alex's eyes narrowed. "And they left almost no trace. Professional."
Leo's heart thudded against his ribs. Professional or not, they were running out of time.
"Ma'am," Leo said, turning to Elaine, "we need to know everything. Any unusual sounds, deliveries, guests—anything at all."
Elaine's hands trembled as she clutched her robe tighter. "I… I don't know. There was… there was a delivery earlier. A big box. Richard brought it in, but… nothing seemed wrong. I didn't… I didn't think…"
Leo's eyes flicked toward the hallway, toward the doorway that led to the rest of the house. "What kind of box?"
Elaine swallowed. "I… I don't remember. Big, heavy. It… it might have been… I don't know. Maybe…"
Leo exchanged a glance with Alex. Uncertainty, hesitation—small cracks, but enough to make him dig deeper later. For now, focus was the child.
Minutes passed like hours. Leo checked the backyard again. Alex revisited the window frames. The silence of the neighborhood pressed against them, heavy and suffocating. Then, a faint sound—a whisper, almost lost in the wind. Leo stiffened.
"Did you hear that?" he muttered.
Alex tilted his head, listening. "Outside. South end of the yard. Could be nothing… or someone watching."
Leo's muscles tensed. "Let's find out."
They moved toward the sound, cautious, every step deliberate. The shadows seemed to shift around them. Then Alex froze.
"Look," he said. A small toy truck, Michael's favorite, lay at the edge of the hedge. But something dark stained the wheels. Blood.
Elaine screamed from inside. Leo turned just in time to see her collapse into a chair, sobbing uncontrollably.
Alex placed a steadying hand on Leo's shoulder. "We need to be smart. Fast, but careful."
Leo swallowed hard. "Yeah… careful." He clenched his jaw, eyes scanning the shadows. "But they're not going to get away with this."
The night stretched around them, silent except for the rustling of leaves, the distant hum of a streetlight, and the racing of Leo's heart.
Somewhere out there, he might be there. That's the hope Leo and Alex have. Hopefully the child isn't.. dead.