Free Sacrifice by Wrath James White

something. She knows not to leave the block without asking, but you know kids; sometimes they forget.”
    “What did you do then?”
    “I went out to look for her. I went to the pool. I drove around the neighborhood. I even went over to Sunset Park to see if she’d gone there. I was more angry than worried. I didn’t think for a second that something might have happened to her. Just that she’d run off without permission.”
    “When did you start to get concerned?”
    “When I started checking with the neighbors and the little girls she was playing with, the Jones’s two little girls down the street, Jennifer and Amy. They said they had decided to go to the pool and that Marsha had told them she had to stay on the block and had stayed behind. That’s when I called Frank and he called the police.”
    “As you were driving around looking for your daughter, did you see anyone or anything that was out of place or unusual? A strange car parked nearby or cruising the neighborhood, a strange person, anything?”
    “No, I wasn’t really paying that much attention to anything. I was just trying to find my daughter.”
    “What about the days before the disappearance? Did you notice anyone hanging around that you didn’t recognize? Did you notice any strange vehicles? Did your daughter talk about meeting anyone new?”
    “No. She knew not to talk to strangers.”
    Detective Rafik continued to look around the room with a curious expression on his face. He looked first at Mr. Wells and then at the bare walls and mantle.
    Mr. Wells was grinning at him almost defiantly, as if he had a secret he knew that the detective would never figure out. Finally Detective Rafik spoke up, interrupting Detective Malloy’s cursory interrogation. “Do you have any pictures of your daughter? I notice there are none on the walls or mantle. Can I see a picture?”
    “Sure. I’ll get you a picture.” Mr. Wells grinned at him again and then stalked off into the next room.
    Malloy looked at Mohammed with a questioning expression on his face. Mo shook his head slightly, meaning that he would explain later.
    Mrs. Wells stood between the two men watching the exchange, clearly growing more nervous and agitated by the second.
    Mr. Wells returned from the den carrying several pictures. “Here you are, Detective. Take whatever you need.”
    The detectives looked at the handful of pictures, all taken at a professional portrait studio, some with the American flag as a backdrop.
    “These are her class pictures from school, right? The same ones you gave the detectives over at Missing Persons. We were hoping you would have some more candid photos. Say, of Marsha at home, around the house, playing. You have any photos like that?”
    “We aren’t very big on photography. We like to leave that sort of thing to the professionals.”
    Detective Rafik took another long look at the bare walls, noticing the stark contrast from the rest of the room, which was cluttered with furniture and knick-knacks and little figurines and trinkets. He nodded, staring Mr. Wells directly in his eyes. The man bared his teeth at the detective in what could pass for a smile but held no pleasantness.
    “I see. Well. I think we’ve got all we need for right now.”
    They handed the Wellses their business cards.
    “Please give us a call if you think of anything else, and we’ll be in touch if we come up with anything on our end.”
    The door shut with a loud bang at their backs.
    Malloy turned to Mohammed. “So what was all that about the pictures?”
    “You didn’t notice how bare the walls were? There were areas on the walls that were almost clean. Areas roughly in the shape of a square. They took down all the pictures before we came. There was something they didn’t want us to see, and it involved their child. Either that or …”
    “Or what?”
    “Or they took those pictures down even sooner than we think.”
    “You mean you think they took the pictures down right