PROLOGUE
Ronan
December 2008…
Boston police patrolman, Ronan O’Mara, was dead on his feet. With two weeks to go until Christmas, it seemed everyone in the City of Boston was in a hurry to finish up their shopping, which meant Ronan was in hog heaven where traffic violations were concerned. He knew it was rather Grinchy of him to write speeding tickets this close to Christmas, but the law was the law, no matter the time of year.
“Fifteen minutes to go,” Ronan muttered to his empty patrol car. His plan for the night was simple, take out from Chinese Dragon, a pu-pu platter for one and a small pineapple fried rice, followed by a couple of bottles of Heineken to go with the Celtics game. He knew that as tired as he was, it wasn’t likely he’d make it past halftime.
His mouth watered just thinking about the Dragon’s egg rolls. He didn’t know what the hell they were stuffed with, and didn’t care, so long as they crunched when he bit into them.
In another five minutes, he’d call in to the restaurant to place his order and ask for extra fortune cookies. He could use all the luck he could get. He had an interview scheduled for next week with Captain Davidson from homicide. Two weeks from now, he could be a newly minted detective rather than a patrolman. Ronan was rubbing his hands together in anticipation when the radio crackled to life. “We have an Amber Alert out of Roxbury.”
All thoughts of egg rolls and promotions vanished. Ronan turned up the radio. His heart pinched for the missing child and their family. He might have some bah-humbug in his heart for speeders, but a missing child was serious business, especially as the holidays approached.
“Twelve-year-old African American Female last seen wearing blue jeans and a bright-pink parka. Dark braided hair, brown eyes, approximately four feet tall. Her name is Delilah Madison. Last known location was the MLK Middle School on Congress Street in Roxbury when school ended at 3:15 p.m.” The radio crackled before falling silent.
It was nearly seven. Why the hell was the Amber Alert only going out now? Had no one noticed the little girl was missing for the last four hours? It had been dark since half past four. It would be that much more difficult to find a missing child in the dark. Not to mention the need to find her quickly. According to the readout in his squad car, the temperature was in the low thirties. It would only get colder as the night wore on.
Ronan’s cell phone buzzed at his hip. He punched the button to answer the call from Captain Silver. “O’Mara.”
“Ronan, head toward the Franklin Park Zoo. You cover the area around Forest Hills Street. I’ll be at the northern end of Seaver. Use your cell phone to communicate with me. Now that the word’s out, the media will be out in force to cover the story.”
“Got it,” Ronan assured his captain before disconnecting the call. The search for the missing preteen would be hard enough without camera crews descending like crows to the feast while he tried to locate the little girl.
Without lights and sirens, Ronan proceeded to Forest Hills Street. In addition to housing the zoo, Franklin Park boasted walking trails and playground apparatus for the neighborhood kids. Driving past, Ronan always took a minute to daydream about taking his future son or daughter to see the animals or for a trip down the slide. There was no time for such whimsical thoughts today.
Pushing those visions of the future from his mind, Ronan parked the patrol car on the side of the road. He turned the lights on so other motorists would see it and know he was there on official business. He grabbed his heavy-duty flashlight and climbed out.
The chill December wind hit him like a slap in the face. It wouldn’t take long for the wind to numb his face and hands. Ronan knew he had to act fast. A small girl with only a winter jacket wouldn’t last long in these temperatures.
He surveyed the landscape before beginning his search. The ground was flat where he’d parked the car, but about fifteen feet up the road was a culvert. The perfect place to hide a body, his mind supplied.
Shivering, Ronan headed in that direction, walking as slowly as he could. His flashlight beam moved over the ground in front of him before flicking up to penetrate the dark of the playground. As he walked, Ronan prayed to the Virgin Mary.
He’d grown up Catholic, and attended twelve years of parochial schooling, but no matter how hard he tried, he just didn’t believe in the tenants of the faith. His mother, Erin, did, so Ronan prayed by using the words he’d heard her whisper a thousand times. Hail Mary, full of grace…
It was the longest short walk of Ronan’s life. He examined every inch of ground meticulously. When he shined the flashlight beam toward the park, he could see three other patrol cars stationed north and east of his location. He could hear their distant cries for the girl.
“Delilah?” Ronan shouted. His voice echoed through the trees. A gust of wind was his only reply.
A pop of color caught Ronan’s eye. The culvert was filled with empty snack bags, candy bar wrappers, and brown leaves, long devoid of their brilliant reds and yellows. The quick flash of color wasn’t a Doritos bag and it sure as hell wasn’t from a Snickers.
Puffing out a rough, crystalized breath, Ronan hurried toward what he prayed wasn’t the child’s body. The closer he got, the more his gut instinct told him he’d unfortunately found what he was looking for.
Sure enough, what he’d seen was a pink parka. The girl was laid out in what could only be described as a funeral pose, flat on her back with her hands folded over her chest. She was wearing the pink jacket, but was nude from the waist down.
“Delilah?” Ronan hit his knees in front of the little girl. He felt for a pulse. The first thing Ronan noticed was that her skin was ice-cold. The second was that Delilah had no pulse. Oh, Jesus, no.
Gasping for air, Ronan sat back on his heels. The frozen December air burned his lungs, but he didn’t care. His pain was infinitesimal compared against the fact that a mother had lost her daughter. He pressed his fingers to her neck one more time in case he hadn’t pressed hard enough the first time. His brain knew the God-awful truth, while his heart pressed on.
No pulse. Again.
Ronan staggered back to his feet and reached for the mic clipped to his shoulder. At the last minute, he remembered Captain Silver not wanting information to go out over the radio. He pulled out his cell phone instead.
With shaking hands, he dialed his captain’s number.
“Silver,” the captain’s gruff voice filled Ronan’s head. “You got something, O’Mara?”
“I found her. Jesus Christ, I found her.” He struggled to draw a deep breath.
“Dead or alive, O’Mara?” Silver’s grim tone indicated he already knew the answer to his question.
“She’s dead, sir. No obvious signs of trauma to the body, but there are signs of possible sexual assault.” Ronan couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. He was talking about the death and rape of a preteen girl.
“I’ll call EMS and work my way over to you. Keep a lid on this.”
“Y-Yes, sir.” Ronan’s voice trembled, but not from the cold.
“It’s going to be all right, son.” With those words, Silver was gone.
All through the police academy, Ronan had been taught to respect the words of his commanding officers, but he knew Captain Silver was wrong. Things would never be all right again.