Laura looked at him without understanding for a moment, before it clicked in. “Oh.”
“Yes.” Rondelle clasped both hands in front of him. “I know you’ve taken on a kind of personal responsibility for this young girl, Laura, but we have to follow the correct protocol. She’s going to have to be taken away.”
“Until when?” Laura asked, her heart in her mouth. Her words arrested Rondelle’s movement—he looked as though he wanted to walk away.
“Well, at this stage that isn’t clear,” Rondelle said. His tone was apol
ogetic, but still direct. He looked her in the eye, making sure she was understanding every word. “I don’t believe they have yet been able to figure out the next of kin. Once they do, someone will contact that person and ask them to care for her, or find an alternative.”
“What if that person refuses?” Laura asked. A dozen questions seemed suddenly ready to spring out of her. “What if no one can be found to take her in?”
Rondelle raised a hand to ward her off, as if sensing that this was only the tip of the iceberg. “I can’t answer those questions, Laura. First things first. We need to hand her over to the social worker and then let them handle the case. They’ll do all their due diligence and update us when they can.”
“I’ll take her in,” Laura said, desperately. “I can do it. I know how to care for a little girl. I can take her home, at least until they find her something permanent.”
“You know you can’t,” Rondelle said. His tone was not unkind, but it was firm. “That would be a conflict of interest, and illegal. We need to do this by the book, Laura. No loopholes. No way for him to get his hands back on her later. We weren’t thorough enough last time. This time, we have to be. The media are watching. Even if I wanted to let you, you know I can’t.”
Laura set her jaw. She wanted very badly to cry, but she knew what was expected of her. What was needed of her. She had to be an FBI agent now, not a mother. Not a woman who cared about a child and wanted to keep her safe. She had to follow the rules.
That didn’t make it any easier to do, but at least she could put on a show.
She squared her shoulders. “Where’s the social worker?” she asked.
Rondelle nodded, acknowledging the fact that she was pulling it together. “Just outside. I’ll bring her in now.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Laura turned her back to the door for a long moment, trying to breathe. When she turned back, Rondelle was reentering the house with an older woman at his side. She was short and dumpy, with the kind of haircut that looked as though it had been cut at home with some kind of bowl as a guideline. Her frumpy, old and faded floral dress did not inspire Laura’s imagination, either.
“Is she just ahead, through here?” the woman asked, gesturing toward the dining room. There was an authority in her voice that set Laura on edge. But there was also a gentle tone that offered some reassurance. Whatever Laura thought of her, it didn’t matter. This was what had to be done. It was the only way for Amy to move toward security and stability in the long run, even if Laura didn’t want to let her go now.
Laura led the way back inside, keeping her movements quiet and calm as she opened the door. Nate and Amy both looked up—they were sitting on the floor, Nate evidently engaged in some kind of game with the rabbit. Amy, though, was instantly on guard, cowering back at the sight of the stranger.
“Amy,” Laura said, trying to look and sound as though she really believed what she was saying. “This lady here is someone who is going to help you.”
“Hello, dear,” the social worker said, not unkindly. Laura forced herself to stay still, near the door, when the woman took a step forward.
“I have to go again?” Amy said, looking not at anyone else but Laura.
Laura could feel the hot tears building behind her eyes and fought to push them down. “I’m afraid so, sweetie. You need to be safe.”
“Like last time?” Amy asked, and her voice was so small and so scared that Laura’s dam almost broke.
“Not like last time,” she promised fiercely. “You’re going to be safe now. I mean it.”
She stopped short of saying “I promise.” She couldn’t.
Things had gone from bad to worse for poor Amy from the moment they met. Back then, Laura had thought being kidnapped was the worst thing that would ever happen to the child. Her father’s violence had topped that. And now this—the murder of one parent by another.
Laura would have liked to say that she couldn’t imagine it getting any worse, but she had seen enough in her career. It had been nearly a decade since she first picked up the badge. Laura knew just how things might get worse for a young, vulnerable girl like Amy. She didn’t want to think about it.
“All right, Amy,” the social worker said. “Do you want to bring your bunny with you?”
Amy nodded solemnly. She got up on her own, without having to be told. The social worker held out a hand to her, but Amy hugged the rabbit tighter instead. Taking it in her stride, the social worker gestured for Amy to come closer, and then guided her with a hand on the back of her shoulder.
Talking quietly to her all the while, the social worker led Amy out of the room. Rondelle gave Laura and then Nate a meaningful glance, one that Laura was unable to interpret. She was struggling too hard to control her emotions, to breathe, to not cry while Amy could still turn back and see her.
The door closed behind both of them, and she gulped in a mouthful of air, covering her hand with her mouth as if to stop it from spilling out again.