Still, something about the dog’s behavior put them on alert.
“Let’s check it out,” Parker said.
The officers carefully pushed open the creaky gate. Sunny darted forward, his nose to the ground, sniffing eagerly. He ran straight to the back of the house and began pawing at a cellar door half-hidden under the porch. His tail wagged like a flag.
Kelly knelt down and pressed her ear to the old wooden door. Her eyes widened.
“Do you hear that? … It sounds like crying.”
Everyone froze.
Parker quickly motioned for Rodriguez to call it in. Eleanor clutched her chest, whispering, “Oh my goodness.”
With a crowbar borrowed from the patrol car, they pried the cellar door open. A waft of damp air escaped, followed by the unmistakable sound of a child sobbing.
Flashlights revealed a little girl, no older than six, sitting on an old blanket. Her eyes were wide, cheeks streaked with tears, but she looked up at them with a mixture of fear and relief.
“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” Parker said gently, lowering himself to her level. “We’re the police. You’re safe now.”
