As the boy continued his protests, tugging to get away, the officer opened the rear door and shoved him in the backseat, little Superman bawling like he just swallowed a hunk of Kryptonite.
The cop got behind the wheel and slammed his door, a little too angry. He cranked the key to start the ignition, but as he threw it into drive, he looked up to see me blocking his way.
His eyebrows collided in the middle as he powered down his window, irked but cop-polite. “Get out of the way, ma’am.”
I have to admit, the “ma’am” tweaked me off a little. I said, “The boy doesn’t want to go with you.”
“Of course he doesn’t. Because he knows he’s in trouble.”
“Can I see some ID, officer?”
His head twirled around like Linda Blair’s. “Can you see my ID?!”
“I have a right to ask. We’ve already had one little girl go missing in this neighborhood.”
He turned off the ignition, swung the door open, and climbed out, standing half a foot over me. “I know that. I’m a police officer.”
“I just want to make sure. As a concerned citizen, of course. You have to admit, tonight would be the perfect night for a disguise, like maybe that of one of our men in blue... or in your case, grey.”
He pulled a billfold from his breast pocket, opened it to flash his shield so I could get a good look at it. Those badges can be faked, but I’ve seen enough Portland PD buzzers to know the difference. I read his ID card in the opposing flap.
“Thanks... Officer Windows.”
He snapped the billfold shut, cracking the air. He opened his coat and shoved it home.
“Now how about I see your ID, ma’am?”
“Please stop calling me ‘ma’am.’ I told you, I’m just a concerned citizen, out here looking for the missing girl.” I showed him the Cosseli girl’s flyer.
“That still doesn’t tell me who you are,” he said.
I told him my name.
He considered it a moment, nodding. “I’ve heard of you.”
He didn’t grin or glower, giving no indication of whether what he’d heard had been fair or foul.
“Well — whatever you’ve heard — you should know I’m not trying to jam you up. I just wanted to make sure the boy was okay.” I jabbed a finger at Superman in the backseat, breathing heavily after bawling so hard for the past two minutes.
“He’s going back to his dad’s place, up off Holgate. Kid was grounded, but decided to put on his cape and fly the coop.”
I nodded. “Sorry about holding you up.”
He sucked in a deep breath and waved it off. “Don’t sweat it. At least I got him before anything could happen to him. And thanks for being out here, looking for the Cosseli girl. We don’t really have the manpower.”
“I figured you guys were probably stretched thin.”
“Besides, after she’s been missing this long...”
He left the rest of the dark thought unspoken, then continued in a different vein, “Tell the truth, I’m off the clock. Don’t have any kids of my own at home — though I hope to someday — so I thought the least I could do was come out and lend a hand. Until we know for sure what happened to her.”
The car radio squawked. Windows leaned in to turn it up: “All units be advised. Child missing around six-thirty p.m., near Twenty-eighth and Colt. Female, five years old, blond, wearing a white dress and angel wings, name Daniela Dixon...”
I flashed on the little girl I’d met earlier, with her mom and brother. “Daniela... Danni...”
“What?” asked Windows.
“Her name. Danni. I thought she was saying the boy’s name — Danny — but she was saying her own. I’ve seen this girl. With a woman.”
“What time?”
“Seven... seven-thirty...”
“She’d already been snatched by then.”
“I saw her near Harold Street...” I took off running.
“Wait! I’ll give you a ride!” shouted Windows, but I was already cutting through a backyard, on my way.
I hit the next sidewalk at a full run, weaving between scattered werewolves, Frankenstein monsters, and five too many Borats. I cut the corners of two front yards, zipping down side streets. More than one car honked as I cut them off, and finally reached the corner near Harold where I’d met little Danni the angel and her abductor.
There was no sign of her. I didn’t expect there to be, but I had to start somewhere. The woman had told the boy they were taking the girl home and they’d moved off to the west.
I walked that way, keeping eyes peeled.
A few stragglers remained trick-or-treating, laughing happily a block away. Homes were mostly quiet; some jack-o’-lanterns flickered orange, others had been snuffed, their eyes black caves. Through a picture window a big-screen TV showed one of the Friday the 13th movies, little heads crowded around it.
Dead, wet leaves and sticks piled along the sidewalk like dark snowdrifts. A torn page of newspaper and a Three Musketeers wrapper crowded the base of a garbage can, as if waiting to be let in.
Something white and fluffy poked up from inside the trash: Little Danni’s angel wings, no doubt discarded by her abductor to help her blend into the crowd. Dammit.
I kept moving, quickening my pace but not too quick; I still didn’t know where I was headed. Little Danni couldn’t be far, because they were traveling on foot. Unless the woman had a car parked nearby.
I couldn’t think about that right now.
I moved in ever-widening circles like an old-school tracker, until a bright, lime-green bug on the ground caught my eye. I stepped over to it. It wasn’t a bug, but a fallen candy, maybe an M&M.
No. A Skittle.
I remembered Danni’s tiny hands tearing into that bag of Skittles.
I quickened my step. Fifteen feet down the walk I found a bright yellow Skittle, this one stomped on, flattened but still vibrant.
Not only had Danni been trying to tell me her name earlier, but now she was leaving me a trail to follow. Smart girl.
I kept moving. Found a blue one, then another green one, partially covered by a wet leaf. Leading me west-southwest.
I circled out ten feet, fifteen, then twenty. No more Skittles.
Windows rolled up next to me, the blood-red lamp on his dash still blazing. Superman was asleep in the backseat.
Windows got out. “I almost lost you. What are you doing?”
“Tell everybody she’s not wearing the angel wings anymore. The woman ditched them. But the boy’s still got the gorilla mask.”
“What boy?”
“There’s a boy with them, ten or twelve. He’s part of it. Somehow.”
“Jesus.”
“The little girl — Danni — she left me a trail. See?” I opened my palm to show him the Skittles. “But there’s no more.”
“Think the woman figured out she was dropping clues and stopped her?”
I looked around the quiet street. “Or maybe the trail ends here.”
Windows surveyed the housefronts. “That means she’s in one of these houses.”
I nodded. “The woman wouldn’t want any company. So it’ll be shut down for the night.”
We both took note of the homes with snuffed-out lanterns, TVs off, dark windows. Only a couple on either side of the street fit the bill.
Windows said, “You take the north side, I’ll take the south.”
“Let’s pound on some doors.”
I tossed the Skittles and crossed north. Stepped up to the first dark door and rapped on it. After a minute or two or three, a middle-aged guy answered in a T-shirt and pajama-bottoms.
“What is it?” he said, irritated. “I got an early morning.”