Chapter 3

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**** Charity pulled into her drive after a long double shift at the hospital. She couldn't wait to sit back and enjoyed a deep, relaxing bath, just soaking in being at home.

As always, she let the sight of the flower boxes and D.I.Y additions to the small house warm her heart. Halfway up the steps of the porch she froze. The door was ajar and Sassy, her black cat hid beneath the table, eyes huge and fur puffed making her look twice the size.

Fear clamped her chest as she slowly made her way up the steps. "Hey baby," she whispered to the frightened animal. "You okay, girl? What's been happening in there, huh?"

The cat refused to come out. She pulled the cell phone out and dropped it into her pocket, all she could think about was her baby and the sitter. Slowly, silently she made her way through the door thankful that Beau had visited the other day. He had quietly gone back out to his truck for the tool box and oiled the squeaky door hinges. While there, he had oiled and checked the back door, locks and screens on all the windows and replaced the batteries on the fire and carbon dioxide detectors.

Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the living room... demolished. Chairs were turned over, the TV and stereo had been smashed, and the entertainment center was in pieces. The old, second hand sofa had been sliced up, the stuffing was everywhere. 'That's the only thing that's not a total loss.' She absently thought to herself.

She listened to the silence, listened for sounds of her baby, the sitter... intruders. Nothing.

Thankful that she still wore her rubber soled shoes she carefully made her way down the hall, clearing each room as she went. As she searched, she could hear her father's voice in her head.

'Easy there, girl. Keep your head about ya. If you panic, you and other people could end up hurt or worse.'

After opening the door to her room she almost screamed  when the cat streaked past her and shot under the bed. Sassy's coal black fur blended in with the shadows. A box lay on its side in the center of the room. Someone had... packed her nursing and wedding photographs. She held back a sob when she saw the glass of her precious wedding pictures had been smashed and her face almost cut out of several. While several of her baby boy, Michael's pictures were included, she was relieved to see they had been handled with care.

A sound... what was...? A drawer being slammed? 'Oh God, someone is still in the house... my baby!'

She listened, heart beating so loud she was afraid the intruders might hear. She left her room, there was light shining through the cracked door. Sneaking down the hall, she peaked in. The study was also torn apart. Two men had dug through the drawers and were going through the file cabinet. Those drawers, they contained her late husband's files. Neither her baby or the sitter were present. She didn't know whether to be relieved or not. That left the safe room. Could Sadie have remembered to take Michael there? She hoped so.

As quickly and quietly as possible she pressed the hidden switch, praying Sadie and Michael would be safely ensconced. The door slid open silently and she slipped inside relieved to find both the sitter and her son.

Sadie looked terrified but Michael was happily chewing on a teething ring. He looked up, grinned, cooed and held pudgy little arms up.

"Oh, thank God you're both safe. Sadie, I'm so grateful you kept Michael safe. Thank you!" She said as she hugged the wiggly little boy and breathed in the fragrance of baby powder.

"I'm so glad you're home," the sitter cried. "I was worried when a car drove up before you got home so I peaked through the blinds. I grabbed Michael and a couple bottles and went to the safe room when I saw their guns. She pointed to the computer screen, "I'm sorry they messed your house up." She added tearfully.

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