Taken Away Prologue

Hey everyone, someone suggested in a comment that I post something new while working on The Keeper. I thought about it and I decided to do this one, even though it's still kind of a mess. This is just a little sampler for what the story is about. Let me know if you guys want to hear more because I do have plenty of ideas for this and think it has a lot of potential. Thanks :)

Wild Cat


Prologue

Detroit, Michigan. Thursday January 17, 2009. 2:30 am.
Blake Harris stared out the window from the backseat, shifting uncomfortably. The only thing going through her mind was Oh, shit, I’ve really done it this time. Her right shoulder was killing her and she tried to itch her wrists, but that was difficult to accomplish with the cold metal hand cuffs that restrained them.
The two policemen sitting in the front of the police car were silent and Blake was smart enough to remain that way as well, just as it was stated in the Miranda Rights she had been read only five minutes ago. The seventeen year old had no idea how she was going to explain this to her au pair. She knew she would get a phone call once she was booked, however she couldn’t think of what to say to the woman.
Ten minutes later, the car pulled into the precinct and parked in front of the brown and dark red bricked building. The cop on the passenger side opened the door and pulled Blake out by her arm, further hurting her shoulder, but Blake didn’t say anything. She was pushed into the building where the cuffs were removed and she was told to stand on a set of footprints and look up.
Blake went through the booking process as if she were on autopilot. She answered their questions, obeyed without complaint, waited in between commands patiently and quietly. She was soon allowed her phone call and she dialed the number to her mansion in the heart of the city, where she knew her caretaker was sleeping in the bedroom just down the hall from Blake’s.
“Allô?” came a sleepy mumble. Blake froze for a moment. She had only panicked once in her life and it was something she refused to ever repeat. She took a deep breath.
“Titre? It’s Blake,” the teenager said nervously into the phone, the feeling almost completely foreign to her.
“Chaton?” the woman asked, sounding slightly more awake. She used her favorite name for Blake, which meant kitten in French. “What is wrong? Where are you?”
“I need you to come and help me,” Blake replied, her voice shaking.
“Are you hurt?” her au pair asked, worry spilling over into her tone.
“No...” Blake took another deep breath. “I’m at the police station.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone.
“Which one?” she asked, her voice short and curt. Blake felt something very painful stab her heart.


Bisbee, Arizona. Saturday January 19, 2009. 6:30pm.
Alyson Christenson was sitting down at her dining room table eating enchiladas with her two daughters Olivia and Bethany. They were in the middle of listening to Bethany talking about her boyfriend’s soccer game when the doorbell rang.
“Are either of you having someone over?” Alyson asked the two girls. They both shook their heads no and Alyson stood to open the door.
“Detective Bane?” she asked. She hasn’t seen this man in over twelve years, however, she would never forget his face.
“Ms. Christenson, how do you do?” he replied. “May I come inside?”
“Of course,” Alyson said, stepping aside.
“Hello, Olivia. Bethany,” he said, nodding his head at them.
“Detective, what are you doing here?” she asked, trying her hardest to stop her pounding heart. There could only be one reason as to why he was here and she was terrified of the answer.
“You may want to sit down, Ms. Christenson,” he said, his deep voice soothing, yet Alyson still felt awash with fear.
“Oh, God. You’ve found her!” she said, her body trembling. Olivia and Bethany stood went to their mother’s side, both of them shocked. Detective Bane didn’t reply right away, but finally spoke after several long seconds.
“Yes, we have,” he answered. Alyson felt her knees wobble and she felt herself being guided into a chair while her mind spun behind her eyes.
“I can’t believe this,” she said, tears falling down her cheeks.
“Ms. Christenson...there is more,” Detective Bane said. They all looked up at him expectantly. He only looked at the crying mother. “She’s alive.”