“Yeah. I suppose it’s all right,” she replies.
The detective fiddles with his phone in the dark while Dan embraces Jenny. Wilson and O’Connor meet with the forensic team that’s finally arrived. Ronnie and I shift a few steps to give the detective and the parents space, but for damn sure, we’re going to listen.
Jack Schmidt places his cell near the crying mom. “Mrs. Hansen, tell me in your own words what happened.”
“I was taking pictures with my phone,” she says, whimpering. “I’m an amateur photographer. There wasn’t anyone in here. My Daniel is such a good baby. So quiet and happy. He fell asleep, so I didn’t want to move the stroller. I swear I did not walk too far from him.” She peers up at Ronnie and me. “Then these two women came in and were wandering around. They were being really loud and profane. I worried they would wake Daniel.”
My best friend and I lock eyes and shrug. For fuck’s sake, we’re outside, lady.
“I was so happy when I saw them moving toward the exit. After I clicked a few more photos of the hawthorn tree, I went back to the stroller.” Tears roll down her cheeks again. “I pulled back the blankets, and he was gone. Someone snuck in here and kidnapped my Daniel. I’m so sorry, Danny.”
Dan Hansen presses his forehead against hers, his eyes welling up with tears. “It’s not your fault, Jenny.” He glares at Detective Schmidt. “What’s being done about this? Why are you just standing here?”
“Mr. Hansen, I shared the description of your son and the circumstances. They sent the AMBER alert. Unfortunately, we don’t have much to go on yet. But the local media has been notified.” Detective Schmidt points at the forensic team, who are setting up portable lights to investigate. “My guys are examining the area for clues now.”
I don’t dare mention I did that myself. Jack would rip into me for disturbing evidence.
He continues his inquiry. “Is there anyone you can think of who might have done this? An acquaintance who desperately wanted a child and couldn’t have one of their own? Someone who had malevolent feelings toward you? A stranger who expressed too much interest?”
Both Dan and Jenny search the sky for answers, their eyes roaming in the dark. But the explanation of their son’s disappearance hides amidst the secrets of the Celestial Gardens. They say nothing.
“Mrs. Hansen, did you notice anything unusual?” Detective Schmidt asks in a calm voice. “Even the smallest thing could help us figure this out.”
Jenny shakes her head and sobs against her husband’s chest. Jack motions to Ronnie and me to meet him a few steps away from the grief-stricken parents.
“Ladies, what can you tell me?” he asks. “As I told Mrs. Hansen, the littlest thing could be the clue that identifies the kidnapper. Do you mind if I record your statements?”
Ronnie and I reply in unison. “No. That’s fine.”
“Great,” he replies. “Identify yourself by name before you answer.”
“My name is Veronica Baldwin. I can’t add anything to what Jenny told you,” Ronnie says, protecting her belly with a hand. “Gwyn and I headed out of the gardens while she was snapping pics of the hawthorn tree.”
“Same here. Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Gwynedd Crowther. We were almost through the gate when Jenny started screaming that her baby was missing. I called 911, and we rushed back to her. It happened so quickly.” I can’t tell him about my genuine concern—that the Seelie Fae children may have snatched Daniel.
Jack stops the recording and shoves his cell phone into his pocket. After taking down our contact information, he closes the notepad and presses his lips together.
“Well, that’s it for now. I appreciate your cooperation.” He hands each of us a card. “Should you remember anything else later, please contact me. Often, insignificant memories find their way to the surface. Witnessing a criminal act is overwhelming. The adrenalin rushes through your body, and while you may think more clearly, it could impair your retrieval as well, depending on the person. I suggest you go home. We’ll take care of the Hansens.”
We exit the Celestial Gardens as other Bearsden Police officers arrive to tape off the property. Archie and Derek are waiting on the paver walkway where a crowd has formed. Ronnie and I grab their hands and drag them away from the nosy townies.
“How are the parents faring?” Archie asks.
I frown. “They’re devastated, of course. Tyler got away from me once in a department store, and I freaked out. He was hiding in the pants rack.”
Derek hugs Ronnie. “I can’t even imagine. How awful. Are you OK, babe?”
“Yeah,” she replies, laying a hand on her baby bump. “My stomach is full of knots.”
Her boyfriend kisses her forehead. “I understand you’re worried about the recent kidnappings in Pennsylvania. I hope this doesn’t mean those criminals have moved into Delaware.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Archie says. “Let the police complete their investigation. If they determine this case is similar, they will notify the FBI.”
My best friend yawns, her mouth opening as wide as a baboon’s. “Take me home, babe. I’m sleepy, and I haven’t even eaten dinner.”
“Great idea,” he says. “We’ll talk to you later.”
Derek and Ronnie head toward the café to pick up her car. Archie and I stroll back to his house on Duncan Street through the Green, lit by the hazy glow of the lampposts. He grasps my hand.
“You saw no one else in the gardens?” he asks.
“No. Only the mother, Jenny Hansen. I was worried Shailagh and Aonghas crossed over and took the baby to the Otherworld to play. I didn’t sense any magic residue in the portal area. When I investigated behind the mound, a sharp pain pinched my insides.”
“Did you observe the use of witchcraft there?”
I chuckle. “Nah. It was gas. I started putting collagen protein in my morning tea. It’s caused bloating.”
“Most likely, the baby kidnapping ring has expanded its radius. The media have named them the Baby Nabbers.”
I grimace. “That’s awful. I didn’t tell you about the other shocker of my day. Courtney Davies stopped by the store. She moved away for a while, but she’s back. John Erickson, the new young council member, is her husband.”
“Husband? Well, I’m glad she found happiness. You don’t seem upset about it.”
“No. She apologized, and I believe her. I hope she doesn’t ask to join the coven again, though.”
“I imagine the Fellowship would not be amenable to the prospect. Many still speak of the harm she did at the Winter Solstice Celebration.”
As we approach the area where the red paver paths intersect, a woman of medium height with fair skin and mocha-brown hair dashes across the grass, her arms full of hardback books. When she reaches the walkway, she stumbles, and they take flight.
