“He’s a minor. I’m his father. And if I say he’s leaving with me, he’s leaving with me.” Pivoting, the man reached for Danny.
Instead of waiting meekly for capture, the child ducked, scooted beneath the covers then scrambled to the foot of the bed where there was a gap between the footboard and the side rail.
John saw him slide to the floor, then clamber under the bed and draw himself up into a ball, thin arms wrapped tightly around his bent, knobby knees.
Roaring displeasure, Southerland circled the bed and made a wild grab for the child.
Danny bolted.
John lunged and snagged him around the waist in passing. For a second he wondered if he’d tangled with a bobcat instead of a slightly built seven-year-old. The boy went wild, shrieking, kicking and thrashing so forcefully John was afraid he’d hurt himself, not to mention inflict damage on his erstwhile rescuer.
“Easy,” John kept saying, but there was certainly nothing easy about containing this frantic child. Between the pummeling punishment of the small fists and feet and trying to keep Danny out of his father’s grasp, John was rapidly running out of options.
Southerland shoved the doctor out of the way and made a grab for John’s arm. “Let go of my son.”
He dodged. “I will, as soon as everybody calms down.”
That promise did nothing to placate either the man or the boy. Every new effort Ben made led to renewed attempts to escape and the terrified child began to wail.
John saw the irate father draw back his arm. He swiveled to shield Danny and took the full force of the blow to the side of his head near the temple. It staggered him. He faltered, loosening his hold.
Danny hit the floor running—and barreled right into Samantha’s open arms.
Stunned but still conscious, John saw the tiled floor coming up to greet him. He caught himself on his hands and knees and shook his head to try to clear it. People were moving and shouting within his sphere of vision, yet their actions didn’t seem to make sense. At least not enough to allow him to act.
* * *
Southerland bent over John and managed to wrest his sidearm from its holster. He straightened, casting about as if he were hardly aware of where he was or what he was doing.
Samantha saw a wildness in his eyes, blind futility coupled with the determination to escape no matter how high the cost.
He swung around and pointed the gun directly at her! Samantha pivoted to try to protect the little boy but she knew that any bullet fired from that short a distance could easily pass through her body and still wound the child, perhaps fatally.
She wanted to run but her feet stayed rooted to the floor. Danny clung to her and sobbed as if his little heart was breaking. So was hers. She just hoped she’d live long enough to see him permanently removed from the hazardous environment in which he had spent his early years.
All she could think to do was hold him tight and pray without words, reaching out to God as if He were a life preserver and she was drowning in a bottomless well.
Her pulse beat in her ears until it drowned out reality. Clinging to the child, she waited, wondering if this was going to be the instant she drew her final breath.
The room was spinning. Time stood still. Then, she realized she was hearing rapid footsteps echoing down the hallway and fading away.
She chanced a look. Danny’s father was gone. And so was the doctor.
* * *
John recognized the voice calling his name. It was Samantha. And she sounded worried. If Southerland was unhinged enough to take a swing at a uniformed officer of the law, there was no telling what else he might do.
Leaning on the bedstead, John pulled himself up and blinked to clear his vision. Samantha was still standing by the open door with the child clinging to her. He reached to rest his palm on the butt of his sidearm, just in case—and found an empty holster!
That was enough of a shock to supply a jolt of head-clearing adrenaline. John tensed. Scanned the room. He and Sam were the only adults present.
“Where did everybody go?” John asked.
She shook her head and quickly came to his side. “I don’t know. Ben looked as surprised as the rest of us were when you went down. Then he grabbed your gun and started waving it around. I was afraid he was going to shoot us all but he ran instead. I guess Dr. Weiss followed him.”
Reassuring the child as she placed him back in bed, she studied John’s pupils and gently cupped his cheek. “Look straight at me.”
“I’m fine. He just blindsided me, that’s all.”
“You took the blow meant for someone else.”