Because of a Girl (9 page)

The lieutenant's bushy gray eyebrows rose. “You have any evidence to support that?”

“No.” He hated to admit that. “Just my gut.”

“You think the woman she's been living with lost it?”

Jack shook his head, reminded uncomfortably of his tangle of emotions for Meg Harper. He wanted her to be the kindhearted, generous woman he'd come to believe she was. Or had convinced himself she was. Not something he'd discuss with his boss.

“It has to be the father of the baby Sabra is carrying,” he said. “Nothing else adds up.”

“And you still don't have a clue who that could be?”

“No.” He clenched his jaw hard enough to be painful.

To his credit, Davidson didn't look happy. “Teenagers leak secrets like the rubber raft I had when I was a kid leaked water. Always had an inch in the bottom. If I knocked over the can of worms, they'd swim in it.”

Nice image.

“That's a metaphor, in case you didn't notice.”

“I got that.”

A detective a couple of desks away bellowed into his phone and sent his chair crashing back when he jumped to his feet. Jack and the lieutenant both ignored him.

Davidson's gaze stayed locked on Jack's face. “Tell me how a fifteen-year-old girl can keep a secret like that.”

“They're capable,” he said tersely. “It's all too common when a girl is being sexually molested by her father.”

The lieutenant grunted acknowledgment. “Is there a father or father figure in her life?”

“Not as far as I can determine.” Frustration roughened Jack's voice. “If I had access to IRS records, I might be able to find her father. I've come up empty in this state and neighboring states.” The feds could go where he couldn't, but he didn't know anyone in the Seattle FBI office well enough to ask for a favor. And, truthfully, he couldn't offer a compelling argument for the need to find the man. Jack had begun to wonder. Sabra's little sister seemed perplexed at the concept of either her own father or Sabra's being an honest-to-goodness, real person. He'd begun to wonder if Mom wasn't
Mrs
. Lee at all. A one-night stand could have become the fictitious Mr. Lee. It was increasingly likely that Sabra's father, whoever and wherever he was, didn't know he
had
a daughter.

“Let people know you want to hear from them, that you're still looking.” Davidson heaved himself to his feet. “But until there's some kind of development...”

“Understood.”

The lieutenant nodded and walked away.

And, God damn it, Jack did understand. That didn't mean he liked the order.

Before he could figure out what to do next, his phone rang. The caller turned out to be Raul Rivera, the high school principal.

“The superintendent has backed down. He says you can go through her locker.”

Jack didn't have anything to justify a warrant, but he had figured it didn't hurt to ask the administration for permission. If that bit him in the ass later...so be it.

“Hallelujah.” Jack pushed back his chair. “I'm on my way.”

 

CHAPTER NINE

W
AGING
A
BATTLE
with guilt, Meg sat on the edge of Emily's bed. She'd never even considered poking around in her daughter's room. Until today.

She wanted to be able to defend Emily to Jack without the teensiest bit of doubt, but she kept remembering the times Emily had gotten away with lying to her.
So just get it over with
, she told herself. Emily would never know, unless Meg actually found something. Which she wouldn't.

Unless...ugh, what if she came across something like a baggie of marijuana stashed in a drawer, or condoms, or...? Her mind boggled.

She should probably be glad if she did find condoms. If Emily was having sex—
please not yet
—at least that would mean it was safe sex.

The thought gave her the impetus to start searching.

First, Sabra's side of the room and her half of the closet. Aside from the day when Jack was with her, Meg had trusted Emily to look for clues among Sabra's possessions.

But there really wasn't anything. Turning the pages in Sabra's binder, Meg did discover how poorly she was doing in several of her classes. She hadn't turned in all her assignments, and she clearly hadn't studied for exams.

On Emily's side of the room, Meg tried to be stealthy, putting things back as close as she could to the way she'd found them. She went so far as to pull boxes down from closet shelves. One held outgrown toys kept out of sentimentality, another summer clothes Emily probably would consider out of style by the time she dragged them out. A third was filled with school projects and mementoes dating back to kindergarten, including photos from preschool on.

Meg lost herself for a few minutes looking at the collage Emily and a couple of other girls had put together the night before it was due but that earned them an A anyway. She studied her daughter's grin, so uncomplicated, and wistfully touched Emily's face. It took an effort to wrench herself away, carefully snapping the lid back on the plastic tote and returning it to the closet shelf.

The top of the dresser was a mess, but held nothing unexpected. Ditto drawers. Emily's desk was harder to search, because drawers were jammed with returned assignments and tests, as well as miscellany like handbills for concerts and school plays.

Getting down on her knees, Meg pulled out dirty clothes and dishes from beneath
both
beds, tossing the clothes in the hamper and piling the three plates, two mugs and one bowl to take downstairs with her.

Then she sat back on her haunches, happy to be done. She trusted Emily. Why had it even crossed her mind to do this?

But strangely, she was still looking around, remembering how she'd hidden things from her parents. Emily knew Meg came in here to put away clothes, at least. And since she'd come this far, she might as well go all the way.

She lifted rugs, poked at the boards at the back of the closet. With renewed guilt, she told herself Emily wouldn't have tried to hide anything because she had complete faith that
her
mother would never search her room.

Meg lifted Sabra's mattress enough to see under it, then Emily's. Where she found papers. The ones on top were lined notebook paper from a binder.

With a grunt, she heaved the mattress off the bed and leaned gingerly on the springs, picking up the first pieces that came to hand.

All were Sabra's, either schoolwork labeled with her name or recognizable by her distinctive, loopy handwriting.

Within seconds, Meg's shock and anger burned her guilt to ashes. There might be nothing important here...but Emily had hidden it for
some
reason. Meg saw the date on a quiz—taken and graded only a week before Sabra had disappeared.

Determined and frustrated, she began to read.

* * *

E
MILY
STOOD
JUST
inside the noisy, crowded cafeteria, searching for Asher. Unless he'd brought his own lunch and was hiding out somewhere, he had to be here. It was too cold today to sit outside.

“Hey.”

The voice that always gave her goose bumps had her turning. Dominic had stopped a few feet away, his blue eyes on her face. For a moment, he was all she could see. He'd made her heart pound from the minute she first saw him, fall of her freshman year. Tall, he was easy to spot in the halls. Lean and athletic, he was as good-looking as...as Jeremy Sumpter from
Friday Night Lights
and even Joe Jonas.

He practically always had an entourage around him, and today was no exception. A blonde cheerleader hovered beside him, her expression blank when she looked at Emily. She didn't have to say,
Wait, who are you?

“Your friend still missing?” he asked.

“Um...yeah. She is.”

“Sucks,” Dominic said. Then, “So, you want to sit with us?”

So much.
But she
had
to find Asher.

“I already promised someone. Tomorrow?” she added hopefully.

Shrugging, he was already turning away. “Whatever.”

She felt sick. This had probably been her one and only chance. Emily wanted to run after him and say, “No, my friend won't mind.”

But she couldn't.

Tearing her gaze from Dominic's retreating back, she went back to searching the vast room. Asher didn't stand out like Dominic did. She was about to despair when she spotted a guy by himself at a table in the far corner. He wore a baseball cap backward, but there was something about the way he held himself.

Emily dodged people coming and going and even an apple that hurtled by, until she was close enough to see that it was him. He wasn't that much taller than her—like, five foot nine or ten, and thin but strong. His brown hair was really short; it had been practically buzz cut earlier, because the wrestling coach insisted his boys wear it like that. Wrestling season had ended in February, though, and Asher must be letting it grow now. He wasn't superhot like Dominic, but he had a friendly face and he'd been nice to Sabra. Emily had actually been a little mad at her for the way she ditched him in public. He had to be totally humiliated.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” she asked.

He looked up, anger flashing into his eyes. “So you can accuse me of murdering Sabra?”

“No!” Except...wasn't that sort of what she had meant to ask? Only, not like that?

“Then what do you want?” he asked rudely.

She circled the table and slid onto the bench across from him. “I guess you've heard what people are saying.”

“You think?”

Still clutching the bag that held her lunch, Emily hesitated. Then she lifted her chin. “So, is it true?”

He jerked back, shock making him look like a stranger. “Did I
kill
her?”

“No! I didn't hear anybody say that. And... I know you wouldn't do anything like that. Hurt her, I mean.”

His laugh was almost mean sounding. “And how do you know that?”

How did she? She frowned, thinking about it. “I saw how you were with her. You were nicer than she was.” She shouldn't have said that. Sabra was her best friend. But...she needed to be honest, and it was true. “We've had a bunch of classes together. I see how you treat people.”

“I'm a wrestler. I know holds I could use to hurt someone.”

“Practically anyone could hurt Sabra, even me. She's tiny. And, um, pregnant.”

He seemed to brace himself. “It's not my baby.”

Emily felt her cheeks warming. Asking how he could be sure was really awkward. “That's what Sabra said,” she admitted.

“Then why does everyone keep assuming we both lied?”

“I guess because we never saw her with anyone else. And also because it
could
be.”

Dark color streaked across his cheeks now, making her notice that he had the kind of cool cheekbones that created hollows beneath. He looked both embarrassed and resigned. “No,” he said flatly. “It couldn't be.”

Emily's eyes widened. “You mean...?”

“I mean.”

“Oh.” He was saying they'd never had sex. At least, she
thought
that's what he was saying.

Despite her own embarrassment, she studied his face and saw only honesty. If he was being truthful, he must
hate
admitting this to her. He was a boy, after all. “Actually,” she said, “what I heard on the bus this morning was that Ms. Guzman told the detective that she'd seen you talking to Sabra out in the parking lot. You know, Friday morning.”

“What?”
He stared at her like she was crazy.

“Then someone else said she knew you were absent that morning, so...if you were there, she'd probably gone with you.”

“I was absent because I had an orthodontist appointment. It's hard to get in after school, 'cuz that's when everyone wants to go.”

“Are you going to have to wear braces?” His front teeth did kind of overlap, but they didn't look that bad. But...why had she said that? She was supposed to be questioning him, not talking about braces.

The color in his cheeks deepened as he withstood her scrutiny. “Yeah. I had impressions done.” His face contorted as if he was sliding his tongue across his teeth, feeling for imperfections.

“Most people our age have already gotten it over with.”

He hunched his shoulders and looked down at his tray. “I had to wait until my mom got a job with insurance that helps pay for it.”

“Oh,” Emily said quietly. Waiting until he met her eyes again, she said, “My mom says she's glad I didn't need braces, because she couldn't have afforded them.”

He nodded, as if he understood what she was doing. His eyes were kind of a different color, she realized. Mostly gray, but flecked with enough gold that his driver's license probably said hazel. Even though he was a sophomore, like her, he had a license. His birthday was barely before the cutoff for starting kindergarten, and he'd told Sabra his parents decided to have him wait another year.

Uh-huh. Sabra, remember?

“So you weren't here at school that morning at all,” Emily persisted.

Asher shook his head. “Not until after lunch.”

Not even really talking to him, she said, “Then why—”

“I don't know!” He almost shouted it, then looked around quickly. A couple of heads had turned, but that's all. A dull roar filled the cafeteria and nobody had any reason to pay attention to them.

She wanted to believe him. Mostly she did. Except he did have his own car, and if his appointment hadn't been until something like nine or ten, he could have driven to the school for some reason. Like to meet Sabra.

“I'm sorry,” Emily heard herself say. “I'm scared for her.”

He nodded. “I would have told you to—” Flushing again, he stopped really suddenly. Emily knew what he'd been about to say. But he changed it to, “Um, shove it, if I didn't understand why you're being so pushy.”

“Thank you,” she said, looking down at her still unopened lunch. “Do you mind if I eat here?”

He shook his head.

Neither of them talked at all after that. She sneaked a few peeks at him, and kind of thought he did at her. He finished first, half nodded her way and got up to bus his tray. When he left the cafeteria, he didn't once glance back at her.

Emily ate hastily because she needed to go to her locker before next period. Which happened to be Honors English, her favorite class.

She wasn't even thinking about the fact that she would pass Sabra's locker until she saw something going on ahead. Her heart seized. Mr. Rivera stood back, arms crossed, making the tide of staring kids divert around him. And Detective Moore crouched in front of Sabra's
open
locker, those thin plastic gloves nurses and doctors wore on his hands. He was busy stuffing everything that had been inside into a black garbage bag.

I'm too late.

She kept going, averting her face so that he wouldn't even notice her.

She tried to tell herself it was okay. She wanted him to find Sabra. But what if he discovered secrets Sabra hadn't even told
her
?

All the air left her lungs in a rush. Because...what if he found out
she
had been helping Sabra sneak away to meet her boyfriend?

* * *

T
HE
LOCKER
HAD
been a health hazard as far as Jack was concerned. Rivera looked less surprised. What had interested Jack most was that the top shelf was completely bare. Because that's where Sabra had stowed books she would actually need to grab at the end of the day? Because she'd taken whatever had been there with her the day before she vanished? Or because someone else had already been in the locker?

A boyfriend might know her combination, but so would her close friend, the one with whom she was sharing a bedroom. He took a call about another investigation and decided to put off going through the crap in the garbage bag. Nothing had leaped out as promising. He thought it might be more interesting to go through it with Meg and Emily anyway. Meg for help, Emily so he could see her reactions.

Emily Harper was beginning to exasperate him.

He broke away from an interview to time his arrival at the Harper's house perfectly. The school bus was just lumbering away, spewing exhaust, and Emily was walking the half block to her house, head down, the strap of her red backpack slung over one shoulder.

He turned into the driveway and saw her head come up. She hesitated between one step and the next, then resigned herself and continued toward him. He opened the SUV hatch and took out the bulging garbage bag. Emily's gaze flicked to it and then away.

“Long time no see,” he said.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Without waiting for an answer, she stalked past and went to the front door. It proved to be unlocked. When she tried to shut it in his face, he flattened his hand beside the glass oval.