And There He Kept Her (Ben Packard #1)(33)

Susan never seemed to be having a good time. She always wanted to be alone. She went on long walks and was often seen talking to herself. She might sit down for a board game, but then played with an overbearing intensity, as if real money stood to be won or lost.

“Coming here as a kid was a break from the intensity of home,” Susan said. “Dad could pretend his drinking was social, and Mom put on a happy face lest anyone see how miserable she was. You guys were the closest things I had to siblings. Or friends.”

She clicked the helmet strap under her chin. “Moving here with Tom didn’t have anything to do with the years spent at Grandpa’s cabin. I knew the area; we researched the economy, analyzed the cost of living. It was a very practical decision.”

Packard said hmmm. “I did the opposite. Someone I was close to was killed. He was a cop, too. I was flailing back in the Cities, and when I saw the job posting with the sheriff’s department, I jumped at it like it was a life preserver.”

“So moving here to be a cop didn’t have anything to do with finding Nick?”

Packard shrugged. “It’s been over twenty years since Nick disappeared. I don’t know what can be found out at this point. I came here because it was a familiar place. And because there was a job. I’m not sure those were the best reasons.”

“You’re regretting it.”

“I don’t know if ‘regret’ is the right word. I’ve been wondering if I can be happy here.”

Susan put on her sunglasses and spun her bike away from the wall. “Don’t expect Sandy Lake to wrap its arms around you and make it easy. It’s not summer vacation. It takes hard work to make a life in a small town. You’ll figure it out.” She threw her leg over the bar, mounted the pedals in one smooth move, and rode away without another word.

Packard smiled and shook his head. If he was looking for comfort or a warm hug, he’d gone to the wrong person.

She was right, though. He’d figure it out. One way or another.





Chapter Eleven


Back at the station, Packard pinned Susan’s flyer to the hallway bulletin board. In reception, Kelly was talking into a Bluetooth headset screwed into her ear. She held up a piece of paper and flapped it at him. “All right, I gotta go, Mom. Packard is here… I said I would… Mom, he’s giving me a look like he’s going to make me answer this phone from inside a jail cell if you don’t stop talking right now… Okay, goodbye.”

“Maybe I should lock your mom up so you can get some work done.”

“You know what? You could do that and she’d still think we should get married. She’s crazy about you. She thinks it would be good for me to have an authoritative man in my life.”

“You’re old enough to be my mother, and you push me around like a schoolboy. I don’t think it would work out between us.” He took the piece of paper she was holding.

“Those are the names and numbers that called Jesse’s phone. Principal Overby was a big help in cross-referencing the numbers with the school’s database. Unfortunately, none of us could find anything for the number that sent the text message. It’s probably another burner.”

“I knew it wasn’t going to be that easy.”

“I recognize some of the last names on this list,” Kelly said. “I keep thinking these are going to be my friends’ kids, but these are probably their grandkids for god’s sake.”

“Kelly, you have grandkids about to start high school. Of course these aren’t the kids of your peers,” Packard said.

“I know. I forget how old I am sometimes,” Kelly said. She pushed back the feathered wings of her hair and stuck out her chin to tighten the loose skin around her neck. “When the mirror says late thirties, it’s easy to get confused.”

Packard folded the list of names and headed for the door. “You’re telling me you have a mirror that can see forty years into the past?”

“FORTY?”

***

The students were between classes by the time Packard got back to the school. He sat in the SUV and watched them move in clumps through the glass breezeway toward the gymnasium. He listened to dispatch on the radio request someone to check on a stalled vehicle on Highway 18. A minute later, dispatch sent another car to an address west of town. “Occupant is Mrs. Alice Enderall. She’s eighty-four, lives alone. Her daughter says she hasn’t been able to reach her on the phone for the last couple of days.”

Packard waited until the breezeway emptied before making his way back to the administration office. He had a seat again in Principal Overby’s office. It smelled like microwaved tomato sauce and hot plastic. He pulled out the list of names Kelly had pulled together. “I have fifteen names here. I know some of the last names but I don’t know who these people are for sure. Except one. I see Darrel Johnson.”

Principal Overby rolled her eyes. “Big surprise,” she said.

“I’m pretty sure he’s on probation. I want to lean on him first and see where that gets us.”

He read through the rest of the list, and Principal Overby wrote a couple of names on the pad in front of her, saying nothing until he finished. “I hate to assume the worst, but if we are, then I’ll say I’m most surprised to hear Virginia Stevens is on that list. She’s a very good student.”