Janice Kay - Because Of A Girl

Right now, he went back to his search for the absent Mr. Lee. His identity and location were probably irrelevant—but any competent investigator would want to eliminate him as a player in the girl’s disappearance.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE FIRST WORDS out of Emily’s mouth when she burst in the door were, “Did you hear anything?”

Meg quit turning the handle of her Fraser cutter, clamped to the edge of the table. She’d tried to concentrate on some patterns she was working out but found it impossible. At least cutting the wool garments she’d recently bought at garage sales and thrift stores into usable strips was something. It had to be done, and the task was so routine for her, she had been able to work on autopilot. Which left her plenty of time to worry and brood. Sabra’s pregnancy had stirred up too many memories for Meg, and she was finding she’d blanked out a lot of her own pregnancy and the first few years of Emily’s life. Watching the beginnings of a replay was...not pleasant. She supposed she’d been trying to change Sabra’s path, be the person she wished had been in her own life when she’d needed someone.

It would appear her attempt had been a complete failure. “Nothing,” she said now to Emily’s question, all the tension she felt in her voice. “Not a word from Sabra’s mom or the police or anyone.”

Eyes big and anxious, Emily kept hovering in the doorway, bag still slung over her shoulder. “Didn’t that CPS worker show up?”

“Yes, but it turned out she didn’t even know the police were involved yet.”

“She didn’t think you’d done anything wrong, did she?” In a typical swing of the teenage pendulum, Emily sounded mad that anyone would accuse her mother of wrongdoing.

Meg managed a smile of sorts. “No, I don’t think she did. We had a pleasant conversation, and I agreed to consult her when Sabra’s home again.”

“Oh.” Emily chewed on her lower lip. “I keep trying her phone, but it isn’t even on. Her phone is always on!”

“Did you check Facebook?”

“Of course.”

“Email?”

Her daughter gave her the look. “Who uses email?”

Meg had only a business Facebook page. What did she know? “Can she send something completely private just to you on any social media site?”

“Well, yeah, but...” Emily whirled and raced for the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll check again now.”

The doorbell rang.

Meg’s heart took an unpleasant lurch. The doorbell had come to mean bad news. Friends called—they didn’t just show up. Even Emily’s friends called first.

A thunder of footsteps heralded Emily’s return from the kitchen, but Meg beat her to the door. Seeing the unmarked police SUV in her driveway out the window, she knew. It had to be him.

Scared to death, she flung open the door.

Detective Moore looked surprised at what he saw on her face, and he couldn’t have missed seeing Emily, too, hovering behind Meg.

“I don’t know anything new,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

She let out her breath with a wheeze—or was it a whimper?—and grabbed the door frame for support. “Oh, God. I thought—”

“I’m sorry.” He sounded like he meant it. “Uh...may I come in?”

“Oh. Yes, of course.” Meg retreated, Emily doing the same but sticking close. If she’d still been a toddler, she would have grabbed hold of her mommy’s leg and been sneaking peeks at this stranger.

“Emily.” He nodded at her daughter and followed them into the living room. There, he gave off the vibe that he was a little uncomfortable. Was it because he had hoped to tell her something he didn’t want Emily to hear?

This time, when Meg offered him a cup of coffee, he accepted.

“Sugar? Cream?”

“Just black.”

“Emily, would you mind pouring a couple of cups?” she asked. “There’s a pot on. You know how I like mine.”

A flash of rebellion showed, but the teenager shrugged and left the living room.

“Please, sit,” Meg said.

“Ah...” He glanced warily at the sofa and moved toward an armchair. She chose her usual rocker.

“Did you hear from CPS?” he asked in a low voice.

That was what he didn’t want Emily to hear?

“Yes, and a social worker came by this morning.”

“It go okay?”

Was he really interested or just trying to maneuver onto her good side now?

Deciding to take his question at face value, she said, “Yes, the woman seemed nice and, unless I misinterpreted her, didn’t believe I’d done anything wrong taking Sabra in. We did agree to talk once Sabra is home.”

“Good.” His broad shoulders relaxed. “The principal came on a little strong, I thought.”

Was he supposed to tell her things like that? Or, once again, was he trying to—

Meg made herself stop. Spinning in circles, trying to decide what everyone’s true agenda was, could make her crazy. And it wasn’t like her.

“I guess you could tell I was mad,” she admitted.

A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “You’re right. I could.”

Emily appeared, a suspicious gaze aimed at the detective. “Um...here,” she said, less than graciously, plunking down a mug on the side table next to him. She brought Meg hers, then stood there looking stubborn.

“I’d like you to hear this, too, Emily,” he said.

She reached out and grabbed Meg’s hand. They held on tight. He’d lied when he said he didn’t have anything new. His expression right now had her pulse picking up again.

He looked at Emily. “Please be honest with me. Have you heard anything at all from Sabra since Friday morning? Phone message, text, a secondhand message?”

She shook her head vehemently. “I’ve been calling and calling, but her phone’s off.”

“It’s not just off, Emily.” His deep voice was gentle. “I’m guessing it’s been destroyed.”

“You mean, like, she dropped it or something?” Emily didn’t sound as if even she believed it had been a simple accident.

“It’s possible.” There was the unexpected kindness again. His chocolate-brown eyes met Meg’s briefly. “If she dropped it on the street, a car could have run over it. If it went in the lake, that wouldn’t be good for anything electronic. Who knows? I’m finding it worrisome, though. I’d think she would want to stay connected.”

“Emily was just telling me that Sabra never turned her phone off,” Meg heard herself say.

“Most kids don’t.”

“Aren’t you looking for her?” Emily burst out.

“I am, in a roundabout way. I can’t search physically until I have some idea where to look.” He sounded as if he had all the time in the world to answer her questions. “I’ve been talking to students, teachers, Sabra’s mom. I even talked to her little sister today.”

“Sabra really missed Bryony,” Emily said.

Meg hadn’t known that.

“I was hoping Sabra had told her things she hadn’t told anyone else, but it seems not,” he said. “This is a puzzle to me, because I’m getting the feeling Sabra was usually...” He seemed to be searching for the right word. “Outgoing. Open with her emotions.” More slowly, his gaze keen on Emily’s face, he said, “Maybe even had trouble hiding what she was thinking or feeling.”

For a moment, Emily stood silent, her forehead crinkling as if she didn’t get what he was saying. Then she dropped her mother’s hand, a glare that could have started a grass fire aimed at him. “You think I know who he is, don’t you? That Sabra couldn’t keep it to herself. Well, you’re wrong. Okay? She didn’t tell me!”

Tears already brimming in her eyes, she raced from the living room and tore up the stairs as impetuously as Sabra had the last time Meg tried to get her to see sense.