A local woman missing- Mary Kubica

LEO
NOW
We don’t need the lady cop anymore. Our crisis was averted when I
found you asleep in the basement. Still, Dad doesn’t call her off. He
lets her come, though it’s the middle of the night and her arrival
sparks much interest from the hacks outside. There are lights and
cameras on our house because of her.
“Josh,” she says as Dad ushers her quickly in and closes the door.
“Carmen.”
She takes Dad in her arms. They hold each other too long. It’s
embarrassing to watch. “I came as soon as you called. You must be
beside yourself with worry.”
Dad pulls back. The lady cop isn’t in her usual detective getup, but
the most put-together version of someone who’s just rolled out of
bed. I smell her perfume from halfway across the room. “We found
her,” Dad says, “Leo did,” and then they look at me, as if they only
just then realized that I was here.
“Oh, thank God. Where was she?”
Dad tells her.
Her hand goes to her heart. “Oh my God.”
Dad couldn’t stand the idea of you sleeping on the basement floor,
so he woke you and sent you back upstairs. You did as told, though
you were disoriented when you awoke. You weren’t so sure you
weren’t still in that other basement. You panicked. “It’s okay, it’s
okay,” I said when you did, careful not to touch you like Dad had. “It’s
just Dad and me. Leo. You’re home. You’re safe. Remember?”
You’re not sure what safe means. Still, you climbed the stairs and
went back up to your bedroom. You closed the door. I wonder how
long you’ll stay there.
“Good for you, Leo,” the lady cop says now.
I shrug. “It’s not like she was that hard to find.”