Girl, 11 by Amy Clarke (grave mercy TXT) 📗

bus had come and gone. I just assumed . . . I just assumed she’d gotten on. Didn’t think twice about it.”

Sandy looked up at Dave and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

His jaw clenched, but he reached out and put a hand on her knee. “You didn’t do anything I wouldn’t have done. This isn’t your fault.”

Elle tried to catch his eye, keep him present while his wife tried to compose herself. “What happened next? How did you find out she was missing?”

“The school called,” Dave said. “They rang us when she didn’t show up after first period. We were obviously shocked, so we called 911 right away. When the officers looked around, they found her school bag in the gutter. We couldn’t see it from our window because of the snowbank, but it was out there, in front of the house two doors down.”

“So, whoever it was that took her didn’t mind making it obvious she was gone.” Elle said the words more to herself, but when she looked up, she saw that Ayaan was watching her from her position leaning against the door frame. She nodded.

Ayaan said, “Officers found the bag right away when they got here, but nothing else. It was in the same vicinity as the van the bus driver thought was suspicious.”

Goose bumps prickled along Elle’s arms, even though the heat was blasting in the house. “So, if the van was used to kidnap Amanda, that means she was in the vehicle when the bus arrived?”

Sandy sobbed again, the sound grabbing at Elle’s heart. Ayaan simply nodded, her lips pressed together.

Elle leaned forward, hands clasped in front of her. “Mr. Jordan, do you and your wife have any money? Any wealth that you’ve come into recently that someone might know about?”

“What? No. I’m a building contractor. My wife is a stay-at-home mom.” Dave’s eyes welled up with tears again, and he knuckled them away. “All we’ve got is this house and two beautiful kids. I just . . . This can’t be happening.”

“You can’t think of anyone who would want to take Amanda? No relatives, acquaintances who have shown special interest in her? Nobody strange following you recently?”

They both shook their heads, and then Sandy started to cry again. “I don’t know! Everyone keeps asking me that. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know who would do this to us.” Her last word trailed off into a wail.

Wanting to give the couple a moment, Elle looked around for the patrol officer who had greeted them at the door. He must have gone to the kitchen. “Excuse me,” she murmured as she left the room.

The officer was filling the kettle at the kitchen sink and held it up when she walked in. “Thought I’d make them tea. I’ve tried twice, but they let it go cold without drinking it every time. They’ve basically been just crying and asking me if I’ve heard anything.” The short Black man cracked his knuckles after he put the burner on under the kettle.

“I gathered that—” Elle broke off. “What’s your name?”

“Hamilton. Before he was big.” He winked and she smiled.

“I think Alexander Hamilton might be offended by that disclaimer, but okay,” she said. “I’m Elle Castillo; I’m a police consultant.” The words felt good coming out of her mouth, but she held back her smile. “You’re telling me you’ve been here, what, four hours and they haven’t said anything?”

Hamilton looked at his watch. “I’m telling you, I took over from Officer Eastley at eight a.m., and these folks have barely said anything that wasn’t an answer to a direct question. The dude has been staring out the window the whole time, and the lady goes back and forth between sleeping and crying. I’ve never seen people so devastated.”

“What have you asked them?”

“Just if they had seen anyone strange in their neighborhood recently, or if anyone had a grudge against either of them. You know, maybe someone at work or something?”

Elle nodded. “And what did they say?”

Hamilton scoffed and shook his head, looking disappointed. “Nothing useful. They can’t think of any reason why someone would do this to their daughter.” He met her gaze, brown eyes thick with worry. “I’ve seen some shit, but I’ve never seen folks messed up like this before. I really hope we can find her.”

He stayed in the kitchen when Elle went back into the living room. Dave was standing by the window now, looking outside as if Amanda might walk up the path to the house at any moment. Ayaan sat across from Sandy, ramrod straight and looking more uncomfortable in a recliner than anyone Elle had ever seen. Her face smoothed out with hope when Elle walked through the door, but Elle shook her head. Ayaan gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Rather than sitting in the chair next to Ayaan, Elle took the empty spot on the couch next to Sandy. Her body shifted with the new weight on the cushions, sagging in toward Elle. It was enough to snap Sandy out of whatever trance she was in, and she sat up at last, lifting her head from the back of the couch. She looked at Elle, and her eyes took a second to come into focus.

“Where did you go?” she asked, her voice shredded.

“Just to talk to the officer,” Elle said. She looked at the commander. “Ayaan, you mentioned there was a description one of the kids gave of someone they saw in the area, right?”

Ayaan nodded as she pulled out her notebook and flipped several pages over the top. “Yes, a ten-year-old girl told us she saw a man standing next to the street while she was waiting for the bus, although she didn’t see him approach Amanda. She said he was really tall with dark hair and pale skin, and he was wearing a tan jacket. She didn’t recognize him.”

Elle looked at the Jordans. “Does that sound like anyone you know?”

“I don’t know. Commander Bishar already asked us this last night.