Chapter 2
I stared at the little red heart in Ellie’s palm.
It was no bigger than a button.
Plastic.
Bright.
Cheap.
One of the charms from the bracelet my sister had bought her after the rescue, when we were all pretending small gifts could stitch a child back together.
I had watched Ellie wear that bracelet every day.
I had not noticed one heart was missing.
“Ellie,” I whispered. “What did you put in his vest?”
She buried her face against me.
The judge leaned forward.
“Mrs. Hart, is your daughter all right?”
I could barely answer.
“No.”
The word slipped out before I could dress it up.
No, she was not all right.
No, none of us were.
No, my daughter had not climbed into a courtroom and drawn a heart on a biker’s face because she wanted attention.
She was trying to tell us something.
Hammer sat very still.
His eyes moved from Ellie to me, then to the prosecutor, Dana Bell.
Dana was already standing.
“Your Honor, we request a brief recess and immediate review of Mr. Dawson’s vest.”
The defense attorney laughed too loudly.
“Now the state is taking evidence from a convicted felon’s clothing in the middle of trial?”
Hammer looked at him.
“Take it.”
The bailiff approached him carefully.
Hammer shrugged out of the heavy black leather vest and handed it over with both hands.
I saw patches stitched across the back.
Old road names.
Memorials.
A small white ribbon with a child’s name.
Ellie lifted her head.
“Inside pocket,” she said.
Her voice was so small the microphone barely caught it.
Dana turned.
“What, sweetheart?”
Ellie pointed.
“Inside. Where he keeps the picture.”
Hammer’s face changed.
Not fear.
Pain.
The bailiff opened the inner pocket.
First, he removed a folded photograph.
A little girl with missing front teeth.
Not Ellie.
Another child.
Hammer looked away.
Then the bailiff found the red plastic heart.
It had been pressed into the corner of the pocket.
Dana took it with gloves and held it under the evidence camera.
There was a black dot on the back.
Tiny.
Almost invisible.
“What is that?” the judge asked.
Ellie whispered, “The eye.”
The room tilted under me.
“What eye, baby?”
She turned toward Victor Lane.
He did not look calm anymore.
His jaw had gone tight.
His attorney touched his sleeve, but Victor shook him off.
“The eye from the blue room,” Ellie said.
The blue room.
The room she had mentioned only once.
The room she said had a buzzing light and a smell like wet towels.
The room where she had heard another child crying through the wall.
Dana’s voice softened.
“Ellie, did you take that from the place where Mr. Lane kept you?”
Ellie nodded.
Victor slammed his hand on the table.
“She is lying.”
The judge’s gavel cracked down.
“Mr. Lane, control yourself.”
But I had seen it.
Everyone had.
For the first time since the trial began, Victor looked scared.
The technician examined the charm under a small light.
His shoulders stiffened.
“It’s a micro camera lens housing,” he said. “There may be storage embedded in it.”
The defense attorney scoffed.
“In a child’s bracelet charm?”
Hammer spoke before anyone else could.
“He sells them that way.”
Every eye turned to him.
His face had gone pale beneath the red heart.
I felt Ellie’s fingers dig into my arm.
Dana stepped closer.
“Mr. Dawson, what do you mean?”
Hammer swallowed.
“I’ve seen one before.”
“Where?”
His eyes lifted to the photograph on the evidence table.
“My granddaughter had one.”
The courtroom went so quiet I heard the fluorescent lights.
Hammer’s granddaughter.
The little girl in the picture.
The child with missing teeth.
Dana asked the question I was too afraid to think.
“What happened to her?”
Hammer pressed his huge hands together.
“She disappeared twelve years ago.”
I stopped breathing.
Hammer looked at Victor Lane.
“And he was the last man seen near her school.”
Victor’s chair scraped back.
“That is not true.”
Hammer stood so fast the bailiffs reached for him.
But he did not move toward Victor.
He looked at the judge.
“I tried to tell police. Nobody listened because of my record. Then my son died chasing leads. My wife got sick from grief. My family fell apart.”
His voice cracked.
“And then I saw Ellie on the news.”
My daughter trembled.
“She had the same bracelet,” Hammer said. “Same red hearts. Same black dot. I knew.”
Dana turned to the judge.
“Your Honor, we request emergency forensic review of the charm and expansion of the warrant.”
The defense attorney objected.
The judge overruled him.
Then Victor Lane smiled.
It was thin.
Cruel.
Private.
He leaned toward his microphone.
“You people have no idea what you’re opening.”
A chill ran over my skin.
Hammer turned his head slowly.
“What does that mean?”
Victor did not answer.
But my daughter did.
“He said there were more rooms,” Ellie whispered.
I held her so tight she squeaked.
Dana froze.
The judge ordered the jury removed.
The reporters were pushed out.
The courtroom emptied into chaos.
But before the deputies led Victor away, he looked straight at me.
Then at Ellie.
May you like
And he mouthed two words.
Still watching.
