He knelt down. “Emma, I’m a police officer. You’re safe. I’m going to take you back to your mom and dad.”

She said nothing. But she did look at the water bottle in his hand.

“Are you thirsty, honey? You want a drink?”

She nodded.

He twisted the lid off the water bottle and put it on the ground halfway between the two of them. She picked it up and took a big drink. She did not give it back to him.

He held out a hand. “Will you take my hand and let me lead you out of this field? Will you let me take you back to your mommy and your daddy?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice very faint. But when she stuck out her hand, it was steady. And she didn’t flinch when he gently engulfed it in his own.

And together, A.L. and Emma walked out of the cornfield.

It was many hours later, just before 5:00 in the afternoon, when normal people were just leaving their day jobs, that he finally crawled into bed. He’d been up for more than thirty-five hours but he wasn’t that sleepy. He suspected, though, that once the adrenaline wore off, he’d sleep like the dead.

Troy and Leah Whitman had been waiting together and had gathered Emma in their arms. After a long and tearful hug, Leah had stepped back, looked for her mother and motioned for her to step in. Then the four of them had held each other tight.

The little girl had been checked at the scene and then later transported to the hospital but had already been released. Physically, she was fine. Emotionally, time would tell, but the experts had said that she was likely going to be okay. While it had been a despicable act to take her, Emma had food and shelter and had not realized the peril she was in.

None of that mitigated law enforcement’s anger with Kara Wiese, Steven Hanzel and Catherine Wood, who’d been picked up at her house without incident. Catherine and Kara were being charged with kidnapping and other assorted lesser charges and Steven Hanzel as an accessory.

Troy and Leah had listened to the story with a stunned look on their faces. “I’m sorry, Leah,” Troy had said, his voice thick with tears. “This was my fault.”

After just a moment of hesitation, she’d reached for his hand. “No. Not your fault. Their fault. Three crazy people who thought it would be easy to fool a five-year-old.”

A.L. sort of thought the Whitmans might have a chance.

A.L. smiled at the woman next to him. Tess had hurried home from the title company when he’d finally been able to call her and tell her it was over. Now she was naked in his arms.