Grievous (Scarlet Scars #2)(56)

The new arrival stepped closer, regarding her, and froze a foot away, eyes widening. The little girl looked up at him, and it took her a moment, but she thought his face looked kind of familiar.

Like maybe she saw it before.

“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled.

“Putting a call into DCFS,” the other man in a suit said. “Going to broadcast an alert, probably blast her picture out there, hoping someone will step forward once DCFS clears it.”

“Don’t bother,” the new man said with a loud sigh. “I know who she belongs to.”

The guy in the uniform looked surprised. “You do?”

“You don’t?” he countered. “Come on, use your eyes. Have you even looked at her? It’s obvious.”

All three men looked at her then.

The little girl didn’t like their attention.

The uniformed still seemed confused, but the other one got a vacant stare as he whispered, “Oh, fuck.”

“Fuck is right,” the newcomer said. She’d call him Sleepy, except he suddenly looked wide awake, so she went with Dopey instead, since it was the only other dwarf she could remember right then. “I’ll handle it personally. I’ve been dealing with this long enough, so I ought to be the one to do it.”

The others didn’t argue, averting their eyes and walking away, as Dopey motioned for her to follow him to an elevator.

“Come on, kid,” he said. “I’m going to make sure you get back to where you belong.”

The little girl liked the sound of that.

She belonged at home with her mother.

Standing up, dragging the blanket along with her, she followed him, her wet shoes squeaking against the floor. Everyone kept looking at her. She didn’t like it. She followed Dopey onto the elevator, still not saying anything, and he led her to an office on another floor, tucked in the back, surrounded by glass.

“Take a seat,” he said, pointing to a chair, before he closed a bunch of blinds, which made the little girl happy. It meant people had to stop staring. She sat down, and he joined her, sitting behind a desk piled high with folders. “This was certainly not how I expected this to go.”

He drummed his fingers against the arm of his chair, regarding her.

The little girl thought he’d ask her all those same questions, about names and parents, but instead he asked, “Are you okay, kid?”

She shrugged.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” He looked her over from a distance. “Before I make any calls, I want to be sure you’re okay.”

“My arm feels funny,” she said. “It got hurt when I fell.”

“You fell?”

She nodded.

“Anything else? Did anyone else hurt you? Another person?”

Tears welled in her eyes, but she shook her head, not wanting to talk about it.

“Are you sure? You can tell me.”

“He took Buster,” she whispered. “He burned him, but not all up.”

“Who’s Buster?”

“My bear,” she said. “And he made Mommy go to sleep, too. She told me to play Hide & Seek, and she would find me, but she hasn’t.”

“But you’re okay?”

She nodded.

She guessed she was.

He picked up the phone, dialing a number. It rang and rang and rang, but she couldn’t hear it. “Hey, it’s, uh... me. I’m calling to let you know that we’ve located your daughter. We’re down at the precinct.”

He paused, sighing. “An officer saw her this morning wandering alone along the beach. She’s okay, though. She’s fine. You’ll just want to get down here right away, you know, before anybody else catches wind of it.”

Another pause. Another sigh.

“See you in a few.” Hanging up, Dopey looked over at her. “Don’t worry, it won’t be long.”

“Do you know Mommy?”

“Your mother?” He let out a light laugh. “Yeah, I met her when this all happened. Someone saw your front door busted down and found her on the kitchen floor.”

“Sleeping.”

“Sleeping,” he agreed. “She told me all about you as soon as she woke up.”

The little girl smiled at Dopey, taking in his expression, almost like her mother made him sad for some reason. He had polka dots on his face, ones the little girl thought were funny. She’d seen them before, but it was weird, because it wasn’t with her mother.

“Anyway, your mother, she’s made the trek to my office every week since then. And today... today makes ten months since she lost you. I’m sure it’ll warrant a visit.”

Ten months.

The little girl didn’t know what to say, but she really didn’t get the chance anyway. There was commotion outside the office, the door shoving open without a knock.

Turning, the first person the little girl saw was the Cowardly Lion, followed by the Tin Man strolling in.

No.

This was wrong.

It wasn’t supposed to be them.

“Come on,” the Cowardly Lion said as soon as she started crying, pulling her out of the chair, scooping her up in his arms as he whispered, “Don’t make a scene, sweet girl, and he’ll forgive you for this.”

But she didn’t want the Tin Man’s forgiveness. She wanted rid of him.