Samantha Sanderson Without a Trace
Read Samantha Sanderson Without a Trace Online
Authors: Robin Caroll
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ZONDERKIDZ
Without a Trace
Copyright © 2016 by Robin Caroll Miller
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ePub Edition © January 2016: ISBN 978-0-310-74252-4
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Cover design: Kris Nelson
Interior design: Denise Froehlich
15 16 17 18 19 20 /DCI/ 20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
For Gracelyn . . .
Love you sweet girl,
Aunt Robin
CONTENTS
W
hy can't spring break hurry up and get here already?” Samantha “Sam” Sanderson whined to her bestie as she shut her locker in the breezeway of the seventh grade ramp of Joe T. Robinson Middle School.
The storm that had passed through just an hour or so ago had left the walkways wet, but the air cooler.
Makayla Anderson wrinkled her nose at Sam. “You're just excited because you get to go on a cruise for spring break.”
“Yeah, and leave the rest of us here to be jealous,” Lana Wilson said as she joined them at the lockers.
“I thought you were going camping with your parents for spring break.” Sam slung her backpack over her shoulder and stared at Lana. Her parents had divorced, gone through counseling, then recently remarried. They
were starting to do things as a family again, and Lana looked happier than Sam had ever seen her.
Lana shut her locker and stared at Sam. “Yeah, but camping here in the natural state isn't quite the same as going on a cruise and getting to swim with the dolphins. Hello? Did you not go through the same tornado warning I did?”
“She's got you there, Sam,” Makayla said. “Arkansas or the Caribbean . . . such a tough choice.”
Sam laughed. “Hey, it's the first real vacation we've had in years. Mom or Dad are always working, or something else comes up.” Sam's dad was a detective with the Little Rock Police Department and her mom was an award-winning investigative journalist.
“I know. We're only teasing.” Makayla nudged Sam. “I'd better run to the bus or I'll be stuck sitting with the sixth graders.”
“Me, too,” Lana said. “I heard some of the sixth graders were crying because of the weather and the safety procedures.”
“It was a little scary,” Makayla confessed.
“Oh, man. I forgot the flyers,” Sam said, rolling her eyes. “I told Ms. Pape I'd put them in the teachers' boxes before I left.”
“Call me later then.” Makayla smiled, then rushed off toward the circle of school buses, Lana with her. “Happy hump day!”
Sam hitched the backpack up on her shoulder and
headed back into the school newspaper classroom. Ms. Pape had already left, but the paper's editor, and Sam's nemesis, Aubrey Damas, was still in the room.
“What are you doing back here,
Samantha
?” Aubrey never failed to use Sam's full name, just because she knew Sam hated it.
Eighth grader Aubrey was Sam's editor and she went out of her way, attempting to make Sam miserable. It was as if Aubrey took it personally that Sam wanted to be the best journalist in the history of the school, then high school, then college, then be as award-winning as her mom. After all, she had her heart set on attending the University of Missouri, which was ranked as the number one journalism college by Princeton Review.
For the past three years, two students from Robinson High School had received full scholarships from Mizzou, and Sam aspired to do the sameâespecially since her parents had made it abundantly clear that hard work was the key to success. But getting on the high school paper was quite the task. As a general rule, they didn't allow freshmen on staff . . . except for the editor of the middle school's paper. That one freshman, they would allow on without question. Sam was determined to make editor next year.
But first, she had to make it past Aubrey Damas this year.
“Just getting the ad flyers to put in the teachers'
boxes.” Sam grabbed the stack off the edge of the big layout table. “What are you still doing here?”
“Not that it's any of your business,” Aubrey said, flipping her hair over her shoulder, “but I'm working on the new layout design.”
The paper had recently received a rather large donation, which the staff had voted to use to redesign the look of the paper.
Sam swallowed a sigh and forced a smile. “Would you like any help?” she offered.
Aubrey snorted. “From you? I don't think so.”
“Suit yourself.” Sam turned and headed to the office. She was determined not to let Aubrey get under her skin so much, even though Aubrey seemed to thrive on getting on Sam's last nerve.
The school secretary looked up as Sam entered the office. “What can I do for you, Sam?” Mrs. Darrington asked. A few gray hairs had escaped her bun and her glasses had slipped down the bridge of her nose. “We're about to close up here.”
Sam held up the flyers. “I just need to put these in the teachers' boxes for tomorrow.”
The secretary lumbered toward her. “What are they?”
Sam passed one to her. “It's the paper's notification of selling ads for upcoming editions. It has the specs and the prices and everything. Ms. Pape will make the announcement in the morning, but wanted the teachers to have the flyers to hand out to the students.”
Mrs. Darrington handed back the paper. “Go ahead then.”
Sam eased behind the counter, set her backpack on the desk, and moved to the message area, where all the teachers had their slots, and began sticking the binder-set stacks in each bin. Only two more weeks and three days of school, then she'd be on her first cruise ship. Boy, was she ever excited! Their only planned excursion was to swim with dolphins and Sam could hardly wait.
The door to the office squeaked open. Sam moved to look around the wall. A small, dark-haired woman stepped inside, her eyes wide and face flushed.
“I can't find my son,” a woman said, clearly on the verge of tears.
Mrs. Darrington shot to her feet. “Who is your son, ma'am?”
Sam shifted, staring at the lady.
“Tam Lee.”
“Tam wasn't in last period, Mrs. Lee,” Sam blurted out. She clamped her hand over her mouth as Mrs. Darrington pinned her with a glare.
“He wasn't?” Mrs. Lee asked Sam.
“You're positive he was at school today, Mrs. Lee?” Mrs. Darrington asked as she threw Sam a
keep-your-mouth-shut
look and sat back down behind her desk and accessed her computer.
Tam's mother focused on the secretary. “Yes. I
dropped him off myself this morning. Seven fifty on the dot.”
Sam leaned against the wall, forcing herself to be silent. Tam hadn't been in newspaper last period, that much was for sure. Sam had been at school since eight, and she hadn't seen Tam in the cafeteria where all students had to remain until the bell rang. It was
possible
she just didn't see himâshe'd been talking to Makayla and Felicia about the cruise and not paying attention to everyone else aroundâbut Tam usually spoke to her.
