The Night Stalker_ A Novel of Suspense - James Swain [80]
“Yeah.”
“Want something to drink?”
“Coke.”
I bought four vanilla Dove bars and a Coke, and went outside. Burrell and Whitley stood in the parking lot, facing the hotel. A cigarette passed between them.
“Ice cream,” I called out.
They came over and joined us. I gave them Dove bars, and we ate our ice cream and let Buster lick the sticks. It was starting to feel like a backyard barbecue when an unmarked black van screeched to a stop in front of the hotel entrance. A Broward County Sheriff’s Department SWAT team jumped out, and swarmed inside.
Tyra had seen enough, and I carried her down the sidewalk to my car. I unlocked the car, and climbed into the backseat with her clinging to me like my own child.
Minutes later, Burrell tapped on the glass. I rolled down my window.
“Everything under control?” I asked.
“Whitley’s got it covered. I’ll drive you to the hospital.”
Burrell got behind the wheel, and I passed her the keys. As she started to pull away, Tyra lifted her head.
“Where are we going?” the little girl asked.
“To the hospital,” I said. “We want the doctors to examine you.”
“Will my mommy be there?”
Burrell pulled out her cell phone. “I’m calling her right now.”
“Will my daddy be there?” Tyra asked. “I don’t want to see Daddy.”
She was looking at me now, her eyes wide and fearful.
“Why don’t you want to see your daddy?” I asked.
“Daddy was mean to me. He gave me to those men as part of a deal. My daddy said he’d come back to get me, but he never did. He’s mean.”
I saw Burrell’s eyes in the mirror. She had lowered her cell phone, and was hanging on Tyra’s every word.
“Tell me something, Tyra,” I said. “What happened to Sampson?”
“Oscar took him away,” the little girl said. “Sampson tried to escape from the room a bunch of times. One time, he even called someone on the phone. Sampson said if he got free, he’d come back and rescue me. I liked Sampson.”
There was a spot of ice cream on her chin, and I licked the tip of my finger and wiped it away. “Did Sampson tell you who brought him there?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Tyra said.
“What did he say?”
“Sampson said he had a secret friend,” Tyra said. “His secret friend came to his bedroom, and took Sampson away. He gave Sampson to the men at the hotel, and they put him in the cage with me.”
“Was Sampson mad at his secret friend?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Did Sampson say who his secret friend was?”
“He called him Big Daddy.”
We had reached the Broward General Medical Center. Burrell drove around to the rear of the building, and pulled up to the emergency entrance. I opened my door and started to get out. Tyra squeezed her arms tightly around my chest.
“Are you going to find Sampson?” she asked.
“Yes. I’m going to find him.”
She burrowed her head into my chest. “Good.”
Hospital emergency rooms were hell on kids. People who’ve been shot, stabbed, and beaten up filled them late at night, along with drunks and druggies. If kids weren’t traumatized going into one, they usually were when they left.
I carried Tyra into the emergency room and found a quiet seat in the corner. The place was filled with hard-luck cases, many of whom were bleeding and battered. I made eye contact with every one, and watched them drift to other parts of the room.
Burrell brought a female doctor to where we were sitting. The doctor checked Tyra’s pulse, listened to her heartbeat, and looked into her ears without the little girl letting go of my chest. Burrell took the chair next to mine.
“I contacted HHR,” she said quietly. “They’re sending someone over.”
“Has Tyra been reported missing?” I asked.
Burrell shook her head no. By not reporting her daughter missing, Tyra’s mother had made herself an accessory in her daughter’s kidnapping and would be arrested, while Tyra would be turned over to an agent with Health and Human Resources.
“Where’s my mommy?” Tyra asked.
“She’s on her way,” Burrell said reassuringly.
“You said that before,” the little girl said.
“I’m sorry, honey,” Burrell said.
Tyra started to cry. Burrell went outside to see if the mother had