Attachment Strings Read Online Free PDF Page B

brushed a curl away from the child’s forehead. Love emanated from the woman, stunning me into silence. How could she love someone so distorted, someone who was and would forever be a burden, so much? Suddenly, I asked myself why I couldn’t find someone to look at me like that.
    Life just wasn’t fair, that was why.
    Trenkins drew me out of my reverie. “What happened to the driver who was responsible for the accident?”
    “The brakes on the bus didn’t work and the bus overbalanced on a curve. Thank God they weren’t going fast. It’s a miracle everyone is alive! I’m sure this wasn’t just a coincidence. There is someone out there who wants to take away my daughter.” She fought a new battle against tears while we stood there and absorbed the information.
    “I was so upset yesterday that I called my father. He was shocked and told me we had to get the police involved. I mean really involved. Of course you are investigating the accident. My husband and I decided to keep Amaris at home for a few days. I know of at least one other mother who received similar calls. Her son died two months ago from a seizure.”
    “As far as I understand, no one can be held responsible for someone else dying from a seizure,” I spoke.
    “The boy had been spooked, we’re sure about that. He was also locked up in a utility room.” She held up a hand to stop my comment. “He couldn’t have locked himself up. It was impossible. Someone must have locked him in there on purpose.”
    “Couldn’t he have been overlooked?”
    Mrs. Anderson snorted in a very unfeminine manner. “No. The room is small and when they found him, he was right in the middle of it. He was bound to his wheelchair, seizing. When help finally arrived it was too late. I’m not making things up, detectives. Our children are in danger. Please stop whoever is responsible.”
    “Could you give us the name of that boy? We would like to talk to the family. Were the police involved in that case?”
    “His name was Derek Green. I’ll write down his address for you.” She got up to retrieve a writing pad from a cupboard. “The police weren’t involved. Everyone said it was an accident, that maybe he got locked in by another kid.”
    That made sense to me. It didn’t change the fact this boy had died a horrible death. Mrs. Anderson handed me the note. I glanced at the address, showed it to Trenkins, and we both nodded in unspoken understanding. We would pass Georgia Avenue on our way back to the station. Maybe we could drop by.
    We heard someone unlocking the front door. Mrs. Anderson tensed. Obviously she wasn’t expecting anyone. Trenkins moved in the direction of the living room door whereas I stepped in front of Mrs. Anderson, hand on my gun, ready to raise it.
    “Darling? Are you here?”
    “Oh God!” Mrs. Anderson sobbed, sidestepped me, and flung herself around the neck of a dark-haired man who entered the room.
    “Darling, what happened? Are you okay? Where’s Amaris? Is she okay?” The man, probably her husband, fired off questions.
    “She’s okay, fine, actually. You… you just scared me. I didn’t expect you to be home so early.”
    “I canceled the afternoon meetings. I couldn’t concentrate on work anyway.” The man dropped a kiss on Mrs. Anderson’s forehead. His head snapped up when Trenkins harrumphed. Sharply, he asked, “Who are you?”
    “I’m Detective Woods, this is Detective Trenkins. You are?”
    “I’m Connor Anderson.”
    “My husband,” Mrs. Anderson added in case we weren’t sure how they were related. I swallowed down my sarcasm, wondering for a brief moment about my anger.
    “Well, Mrs. Anderson, thank you very much for your time. We’ll keep in touch,” Trenkins said. We shook hands with both of them.
    Mr. Anderson escorted us to the door. “I hope you’ll find whoever is making our life a living hell very soon.”
    We nodded. Anderson closed and locked the door behind us. From the inside we heard a loud