a long way to the mill.”
“I’ll be okay. I take care of myself.”
Brenna took her seat on the other side of the table and stared at Carrie for a moment. The girl looked down and forked her leftover noodles around the plate. “Is there something you’d like to tell me, Carrie?” Brenna asked, hoping the girl wasn’t harboring a big secret, the kind that had led to heartbreaking decisions once before. She swallowed, knowing she could have opened the door to something she didn’t really want to hear. “Is everything all right at home?”
Brenna held her breath. Please just let this be a case of a new kid in town who’s experiencing some loneliness.
Carrie mumbled into her lap. “It’s that obvious?”
Oh, boy. “Is someone treating you badly?” Brenna asked.
Carrie swallowed hard. She didn’t answer the question.
Brenna leaned over the table but resisted the instinct to place her hand over the girl’s. “Has someone hurt you, Carrie?”
Still no answer. Carrie didn’t look up.
“Because if so, there are people who can help. But you need to tell someone...”
She never finished giving advice because movement in front of her house caught her eye. Through her open door she saw a police cruiser pull to the curb. Carrie gasped and stood up.
“This is about you, isn’t it?” Brenna said.
“Maybe. I don’t know. I didn’t mean to be any trouble. I’ll just go out the back...”
“No, you won’t. You’re coming with me.”
Like a prisoner being led to the gallows, Carrie walked ahead of Brenna to the living room. She sat in a chair out of sight of the front door. Brenna opened the screen to police officers she knew well. “Hi, Boone, Lila. What’s going on?”
“We’ve had a missing-kid report, Bren,” Boone said. “She’s one of your students and we’re following every lead.” He took out a photo and showed it to Brenna. “This is the girl.”
A sweet face surrounded by a tumble of black curls smiled at Brenna from a typical school photo.
“Her name’s Carolyn Langston,” Lila Menendez said. “Her father’s about ready to tear the town apart.”
Brenna opened the door wider. “Come on in.”
The officers walked to the middle of the room and stared at Carrie. “You’re her, all right,” Boone said. He pressed a button on a device on his shoulder. “Located the girl. She’s at...” He waited for Brenna to give him her exact address and repeated it.
“How’d she end up here, Brenna?” he asked.
She briefly explained how she’d found Carrie on her porch. “Can we talk outside?” she asked the officer.
“Sure.” Boone spoke to his partner. “Lila, you stay here with the kid. Make sure she doesn’t go anywhere.”
The young police officer crouched beside Carrie. In a soft voice she said, “Are you okay, honey?”
Carrie nodded and Brenna led Boone to the end of the porch, where their voices wouldn’t carry to the interior of the house. “I think this kid’s in trouble,” Brenna said. “I’m suspecting some kind of abuse.”
“Did you see any injuries?”
“No, but she’s very unhappy. She doesn’t want to go home.”
“Well, Brenna, that describes a bunch of teenagers. Even me a few years ago.”
“That may be, but this girl’s reaching out for help. I think you need to notify someone in authority.”
“I’ll talk to the chief about it. But right now I’ve just got to return this kid to her father. He’s probably on his way over here to pick her up. He seemed plenty worried to me.”
Yeah, and I wonder why. Was the father afraid the kid would tell on him? “You won’t let her go if you think something’s not right, will you, Boone?”
“I’ll check it out, Brenna.” He pointed to the street, where a blue pickup was screeching to a halt behind the cruiser. “There’s the dad now. I’ll explain things to him, tell him the kid came here of her own accord. We don’t want him holding you responsible.”
“I don’t care about that,” Brenna said. “I’m just concerned about Carrie.”
The driver’s door swung open and a man in a beige jumpsuit stepped to the asphalt.
“Hey, I know that guy,” Brenna said. She stared at the man of few words, Mike the mechanic, as he strode purposely up the walk to her door.
CHAPTER TWO
“WHERE’S MY DAUGHTER?” The words shot from Mike’s mouth like blasts from a pistol. He headed straight for the front porch, looking neither right nor left.
Boone stepped in front of him and put his hand on Mike’s chest. “Hold on a minute, buddy. Let’s all calm down.”
Mike evaded the officer with a defiant maneuver. “Calm down? Are you kidding? Is Carrie in this house or not?”
“Yes, she’s in there. And she’s fine.”
He released a pent-up breath, and his shoulders relaxed slightly. “Okay.” Then he glanced around, seeming to take in the darkness that had settled over Brenna’s shrubs, the unfamiliarity of his surroundings and, finally, Brenna. “I know you,” he said. “You’re the silver Mazda.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Actually, the silver Mazda is my car. I’m your daughter’s home ec teacher.”
Confusion battled with panic in Mike’s face. “What’s Carrie doing here? Did you bring her?”
“Brenna had nothing to do with Carrie showing up at her house,” Boone said. “That was your daughter’s decision. Brenna has just been talking to her. She didn’t know until we got here that a missing-child report had been filed.”
Mike glared at her. “And it didn’t occur to you to call me?”
Struggling to control her temper, Brenna said, “First of all, I don’t even really know you. Second of all, a teenage girl is capable of calling her parents herself—if she feels confident doing so.”
His mouth opened and then closed again. Apparently he hadn’t come up with a way to respond to the implied criticism. “All right,” he said after a moment. “I’ll just get my daughter and leave.”
Brenna kept her features blank, though inside she was seething.
Mike took another step toward the porch. “I’ll talk to her about what happened. She won’t bother you again.”
“That’s
