Chapter 12 - Echoes in the Lobby
The fluorescent lights of the interrogation room seemed to flicker and dim, casting long, wavering shadows across the metal table. Leo stared in disbelief at the plastic evidence bag containing the bloody red dental mold. The carved initials gleamed a dull, wet crimson under the harsh overhead glare.
"That's impossible," Leo said, standing up so fast his chair tipped backward onto the floor with a loud clatter. "Chloe was in holding down the hall. I saw her taken away by two officers twenty minutes ago. She was wrapped in a silver blanket, shaking, and terrified."
Detective Miller didn't look at Leo. His eyes were fixed on the young officer who had brought in the package. "Where is Chloe Harrison right now?"
The officer’s face went pale. "I... I don't know, sir. When I checked the holding cells after getting the alert from the front desk, Officer Vance opened Cell 4. The blanket was folded neatly on the bench. The cell was completely empty."
"Empty?" Leo shouted, his heart pounding against his ribs as a wave of sheer panic washed over him. "How does a suspect vanish from a locked holding cell in a heavily guarded police precinct?"
"There’s a service elevator," Detective Miller muttered, moving toward the door with purposeful strides. "It connects the lower-level evidence lockers directly to the parking garage. If someone had a keycard..."
"Dr. Harrison's keycard," Leo finished the thought, his voice dropping to a horrified whisper. "He didn't need to speak during his interrogation because the plan was already set in motion. Chloe wasn't a victim of her father's lab, Detective. She was his apprentice."
Detective Miller threw the door open, motioning for backup as officers scrambled down the precinct hallway. "Lock down the building! No one leaves through the front lobby or the parking garage! Check every security feed from the past ten minutes!"
Leo didn't wait for orders. Ignoring the throbbing pain in his bandaged hands, he bolted out of the interrogation room and followed the detectives toward the central lobby. The precinct was a hive of chaotic energy—officers shouting into radios, alarms buzzing softly in the background, and the cold realization settling over everyone that the nightmare was far from over.
When they reached the front lobby, the night guard was standing near the glass doors, looking bewildered and pale. He pointed a trembling finger toward the exit facing the rainy street outside.
"She just walked out," the guard stammered, his eyes wide with shock. "She didn't try to hide her face or anything. She just smiled, placed that plastic bag on the front counter, and said her father would be needing his tools back very soon."
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Leo pushed past the guard and threw open the glass doors, stepping out into the cold, wet night air. The street was empty save for the steady fall of rain and the harsh glare of passing headlights. But resting on the wet concrete steps right outside the entrance was an orange bucket filled with fresh, wet white concrete mix.
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