A Babysitter’s Worst Nightmare

Greta Little looked confused.

“Caleb? Caleb Morison?”

“That’s what the message said.  That William would be eating dinner at Caleb’s house.” I tried to be patient.

“Billy spends some time at a little boy’s house across town sometimes.  I didn’t know his name was Caleb.”

I was getting more perturbed by the minute.

“You don’t know your son’s friends?”

Greta continued to act unmoved.

“Billy does whatever he likes and doesn’t bother anyone.  He can’t talk.  He’s special.”

“He prefers the name William; did you know that about him?”

Detective Nelson intervened.

“Ms. Kwan, we can deal with parenthood issues later.  I have a feeling Mrs. Little had bigger fish to fry.  No pun intended.”

“Oh, so she gets a pass because her husband is a rapist?”

The detective pulled me aside.

“Mrs. Little is in enough trouble.  She will probably lose everything; her husband, her home, her son, everything.  Now, let’s focus on limiting the damage.”

“Fair enough.  Mrs. Little?  Where does Caleb live?  We don’t have any time to waste.”


The house was eerily quiet.  The porch lights were on at the Morison house.  If there was a killer inside, you sure wouldn’t know anything was wrong from the outside.

The APB got the attention of the rest of the Morison family and it took several officers to keep them from rushing to their house headlong into possible danger.

Mrs. Morison explained that there was a babysitter, Becky, inside.

Now we knew who the target was.

The threat assessment was very unclear.  I was certain that the Pastor was the serial rapist that had been committing all the recent home invasion/rapes.

What I didn’t know was if he was armed.

“Detective Nelson?  The dead convict in Medford Oregon; did he carry weapons or use any weapons during his crimes?”

The two of them had been slowly marking a perimeter around the house to keep neighbors from encroaching on the potential crime scene.

“Yes.  He carried a Bowie Knife; a very sharp Bowie Knife.”

“Then we go in hot, Detective.  We have no way of knowing the state of the girl inside.  She could be dead for all we know.”

Detective Nelson frowned.

“Let’s hope for the best then.  And if it means anything, you would have been a good Agent.”

I was flummoxed.

“Uh. . .oh. . well, thanks. . .er, Thank You Detective.  I got your back too.” I stammered.

God, I’m such a Girl sometimes.

We approached the door.

Detective Nelson unscrewed the porch light.

The other officers on the scene waited for the signal to light the place up.

“Shock and Awe, Bobby.  Shock and Awe.”

“On Three. . .one. . .two. . .”

Next – Shock. . .and Awe.