Janice Kay: Because Of A Girl

How well Jack remembered that painful stage. The guys swaggered when no girls were present, some claiming they got it all the time, most of them at least implying sex was no longer a mystery to them. Even though kids seemed to be having sex earlier than they used to, he bet the majority of freshmen and even sophomores were still lying through their teeth, especially in a town like Frenchman Lake surrounded by a rural county.

Inclined to believe the boy, he crossed his arms and studied Asher. “Do you know when Sabra started seeing someone else?”

“When school started. We hung out all summer, but the minute we were back, she started making excuses. I said what’s going on, and she said nothing, but I could tell. I got mad, and she said what she did wasn’t any of my business.” Indignation rang in his voice. “So that was it,” he concluded with a shrug, but his face twisted at the memory. Either because he really had liked her or because he’d been humiliated. Maybe both.

“Have you seen her with another boy?”

He shook his head. “I figured it must be someone from out of town. Or even a community college student?”

Jack thought he could rule out students at Wakefield College. The kids accepted at the private liberal arts college in town were supposed to be the cream of the crop from across the country. Smarter, surely, than to become involved with a fifteen-year-old girl—and to impregnate her, besides. Plus, the college was pretty insular, in some ways. Why would a guy from there hook up with a local, and a sophomore in high school at that? Jack knew for sure his peers wouldn’t think it was cool.

The community college, now, a lot of those students were locals. This might be a kid who graduated from the high school as recently as last year. Someone who thought Sabra was hot, didn’t give a thought that he might get arrested for having sex with her.

Jack asked a few more questions, but he couldn’t break Asher. The boy never had sex with her, the baby couldn’t be his and he had no idea who she started seeing after she ditched him. As mulish as he was, he came across as sincere.

Jack poked his head out and asked for Emily Harper next, then sat doodling on his notepad.

At a knock, he said, “Come in.”

The girl who entered looked enough like her mother he would have recognized who she was if they had passed in the hall. Meg Harper had an earthy quality the daughter lacked, but some of that was just maturity. Woman versus girl. Emily was almost delicate, with fine bones and a pointy chin that gave her a pixie look.

“Mrs. Seacrest said you’re a cop? Is Sabra hurt, or...or...?” She didn’t seem to want to spit out any other possibilities.

To be polite, he half stood. “I’m Detective Jack Moore. And, no, I’m trying to figure out where she could have gone. Please, have a seat.” He sank back down while she plopped into a chair across from him. “I understand you’re Sabra’s best friend.”

“She can’t have taken off without telling me! She wouldn’t do that.” Big brown eyes beseeched him, and she finished more softly, “Something bad must have happened.”

Despite the high emotion, she sounded genuine. Even so, he found her to be less transparent than the ex-boyfriend had been. In his experience, teenage girls loved secrets and could be sly.

“What kind of bad thing do you think that could be?”

“What if somebody grabbed her? And dragged her into a car?”

“Hard to do that in plain sight, right in front of the school.”

For an instant, she looked a lot more adult and even a little sardonic. “Nobody saw Mom drop her off.”

He spread his hands, conceding the point. “You’d think Sabra would have struggled, though, wouldn’t you? Probably yelled. She could have jumped right out of the car again unless the person shoved her in the trunk. All of that is kind of eye-catching.”

“Mom’s van is, too,” Emily said sullenly.

A corner of his mouth curled. “So I hear. Thing is, people have gotten used to seeing it. I imagine she’s driven you to school plenty of times. A struggle, someone pushing a pregnant girl into the trunk of a car, that’s different.”

She took that in and finally nodded. “What if she went with him, just so they could talk or something, and then he wouldn’t bring her back?”

“I’d say that’s possible,” he said gently, “except your mother and I discovered she’d hidden her textbooks and binder in a drawer so she could put other stuff in her pack. Seems like she planned an outing.”

Unless, of course, Meg Harper had planted the books to make it look exactly like that, diverting suspicion from herself. He didn’t really believe that, but he had to keep it in mind. His job demanded he look at her first, as the last person to see Sabra. As he’d told her, it would be good if he could find a witness who’d seen her delivering her foster daughter to the school.

Speaking of... “Why didn’t you ride along with your mom and Sabra instead of taking the bus?”

“Sabra said she didn’t know how long it would take her to get ready.” Her tone told him she’d felt betrayed. “And Mom said it was bad enough if one of us was late.”

That Sabra hadn’t wanted Emily with them would seem to confirm the advance planning she’d put into her great escape.

“Before you went out the door, did Sabra say anything about the day?” he asked. “Maybe ‘I’ll see you in biology’?”

Emily’s nose wrinkled.

He smiled. “Or at lunch?”

“Biology is one of the classes we have together. Sabra especially hates it. The teacher is a douche. But Mom was practically pushing me out the door and ordering Sabra to get ready, so I didn’t even say goodbye. It wasn’t fair I couldn’t wait and go with them. Riding the bus sucks.”

She was right—it did. A reminiscent instant was forced on him. The diesel smell, the sway, the jerky stops had made him carsick. Then there were the weird kids, the assholes, the grumpy drivers.

It was reasonable enough that Ms. Harper had wanted Emily on that bus, but he couldn’t rid his mind of an alternate motive for her eagerness to get her own daughter out of the house, leaving her alone with the troublesome, pregnant teenager whose welcome might have worn thin.

He sat back, regarding her somberly. “Emily, I have to ask this. You may be the only person who Sabra has confided in. It’s really important that you tell me who fathered her baby.”

“But I don’t know.” She swiped angrily at sudden tears. “She said he was going to marry her, but he had to take care of stuff first and she’d promised not to tell anybody, even her absolute best friend in the world. She swore she wouldn’t do it without me, ’cuz I had to be her maid of honor. Which would be cool except...” Her worry suggested she was basically a good kid. “How can she have a boyfriend old enough to marry her? Do you think he might be trying to talk his parents into letting them move in with them?”

The thought had crossed Jack’s mind, but he was bothered by the absolute secrecy Sabra had maintained, tough for a girl her age.

“Word has gotten around she’s disappeared, hasn’t it?” he asked.

“Everyone knows now, because you’re here. Before, nobody would believe me.” Emily caught his drift. “You think if, well, he doesn’t know where she is, he’d be scared enough to say he’s the father.”

“That seems logical. If the secret is big enough to keep, I doubt the issue is as simple as a set of parents who disapprove.”

He could tell she understood and even agreed. She was probably still holding back, but how much? He kept her talking for a while, trying to get a better idea of her mother’s relationship with Sabra. The fight that had been loud enough to have a neighbor calling 9-1-1 was a red flag, but one he’d take more seriously if her yelling hadn’t come on the heels of the girls having sneaked out to a party where drugs and booze were available. Once cops broke up the party, he guessed parents all over town had been yelling. He hadn’t been surprised that Meg Harper turned beet red when he asked her about it. To her credit, she’d been openly embarrassed, not defensive.