speak, but Jane let the pause last, remembering the advice she had learned in school to give your interviewee twelve seconds before you decided they weren’t going to answer.
“The answer to that is obvious, isn’t it?”
Jane didn’t answer. She didn’t want to guess wrong and have him clam up.
“If no one is looking for you, it means they know where you are, and aren’t worried.”
“So where is she, then?” Jane didn’t mean to whisper it, but her body was reacting like Theo was a wild animal. Small movements, quiet sounds.
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be cooling my heels in Portland, Oregon, would I?” Theo forced himself to his feet. A vein throbbed in his temple, and he clenched and unclenched his fists. He barely had control over himself. “Get out before I call my mom and tell her what you are really doing here.”
Jane stood her ground, but put her hand to her car keys in her jeans pocket.
Theo took a step towards her, but hesitated. He flexed his fingers and then grabbed his phone from the side table.
Jane exhaled.
Theo locked eyes with her, his whole body tense with anger.
The fluffy white cat brushed against Jane’s legs, purring. She pushed it aside gently, and picked up her cleaning caddy.
“Don’t you ever kick that cat, Girl Detective.” Theo’s voice was cold.
“Ah, ah…” Jane looked around for the cat, and spied it resting in a beam of sunshine. “Of course not.”
Theo grunted and walked away.
Theo, at least, thought his parents were behind his missing sister, and was still very angry about it.
But was he angry enough to have killed his stepfather?
Chapter Fifteen
Jane parked her car at home and took the bus to school. The bus on her route was a new one, the vinyl seats were free of rips and tears, and the one she sat on wasn’t even sticky.
She was one of four people riding, and the only smell she noticed was the springy scent of cut grass blowing in from the window in front of her. She sighed and leaned her head back. Riding the bus wasn’t what she’d call fun—even a clean one—but it was better than paying for parking downtown.
The rolling pace of the bus as it tooled down Powell Boulevard almost had her asleep when her phone chimed.
She had a text from Detective Bryce.
“Just thought you should know, HM AOK.”
She stared at it. Was he allowed to tell her that? Assuming that meant that Haven Malachi was fine, that is. Could he tell her that? And if he was working outside of normal rules, would she be leading him on to thank him for it?
She skipped the thank-you and went straight to the point: “How? Where? WHY?”
His response came fast: “H IPPA. Can’t say. Just…don’t worry.”
She scrunched her nose up. Dang HIPAA laws. They kept her from getting all the news she needed. “THNX.” A text-shorthand thank-you couldn’t be leading him on, anyway.
And she was thankful. A lightness, like the smell of the cut grass in the air, came with the news the missing girl was “AOK.” But that alone wasn’t the same as knowing where, why, or how she was AOK. And it didn’t mean that someone in the house wouldn’t kill because she had been sent away.
Why would they send a twelve-year-old away?
She ought to have been too young for an unwanted pregnancy (at least Jane prayed that was the case), and anyway, that would only have been for nine or ten months, not four years. She could have been put in an asylum for mental issues, or a care home if she had been seriously injured. Or a boarding school if she had been acting up. There were several ways a child could disappear and still be safe, in a technical sense. But which one was it?
Jane googled Haven Malachi Toledo Ohio in many variations and spellings for the rest of her ride to school, but apart from one false lead, a “Haven House in Toledo, Ohio, run by Malachi Rosales,” she came up empty.
She was glad class was all tests today. It forced her to concentrate on the work at hand
“The answer to that is obvious, isn’t it?”
Jane didn’t answer. She didn’t want to guess wrong and have him clam up.
“If no one is looking for you, it means they know where you are, and aren’t worried.”
“So where is she, then?” Jane didn’t mean to whisper it, but her body was reacting like Theo was a wild animal. Small movements, quiet sounds.
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be cooling my heels in Portland, Oregon, would I?” Theo forced himself to his feet. A vein throbbed in his temple, and he clenched and unclenched his fists. He barely had control over himself. “Get out before I call my mom and tell her what you are really doing here.”
Jane stood her ground, but put her hand to her car keys in her jeans pocket.
Theo took a step towards her, but hesitated. He flexed his fingers and then grabbed his phone from the side table.
Jane exhaled.
Theo locked eyes with her, his whole body tense with anger.
The fluffy white cat brushed against Jane’s legs, purring. She pushed it aside gently, and picked up her cleaning caddy.
“Don’t you ever kick that cat, Girl Detective.” Theo’s voice was cold.
“Ah, ah…” Jane looked around for the cat, and spied it resting in a beam of sunshine. “Of course not.”
Theo grunted and walked away.
Theo, at least, thought his parents were behind his missing sister, and was still very angry about it.
But was he angry enough to have killed his stepfather?
Chapter Fifteen
Jane parked her car at home and took the bus to school. The bus on her route was a new one, the vinyl seats were free of rips and tears, and the one she sat on wasn’t even sticky.
She was one of four people riding, and the only smell she noticed was the springy scent of cut grass blowing in from the window in front of her. She sighed and leaned her head back. Riding the bus wasn’t what she’d call fun—even a clean one—but it was better than paying for parking downtown.
The rolling pace of the bus as it tooled down Powell Boulevard almost had her asleep when her phone chimed.
She had a text from Detective Bryce.
“Just thought you should know, HM AOK.”
She stared at it. Was he allowed to tell her that? Assuming that meant that Haven Malachi was fine, that is. Could he tell her that? And if he was working outside of normal rules, would she be leading him on to thank him for it?
She skipped the thank-you and went straight to the point: “How? Where? WHY?”
His response came fast: “H IPPA. Can’t say. Just…don’t worry.”
She scrunched her nose up. Dang HIPAA laws. They kept her from getting all the news she needed. “THNX.” A text-shorthand thank-you couldn’t be leading him on, anyway.
And she was thankful. A lightness, like the smell of the cut grass in the air, came with the news the missing girl was “AOK.” But that alone wasn’t the same as knowing where, why, or how she was AOK. And it didn’t mean that someone in the house wouldn’t kill because she had been sent away.
Why would they send a twelve-year-old away?
She ought to have been too young for an unwanted pregnancy (at least Jane prayed that was the case), and anyway, that would only have been for nine or ten months, not four years. She could have been put in an asylum for mental issues, or a care home if she had been seriously injured. Or a boarding school if she had been acting up. There were several ways a child could disappear and still be safe, in a technical sense. But which one was it?
Jane googled Haven Malachi Toledo Ohio in many variations and spellings for the rest of her ride to school, but apart from one false lead, a “Haven House in Toledo, Ohio, run by Malachi Rosales,” she came up empty.
She was glad class was all tests today. It forced her to concentrate on the work at hand
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