Samantha Sanderson Without a Trace (15 page)

“What's wrong?” Sam's mother asked as she hung her purse on the peg.

“I just got a call from Captain York,” Dad started.

Sam chewed the inside of her bottom lip. Dad's captain could be quite nasty. His son, who went to school with Sam, wasn't much better, only he was more of a whiner than nasty.

“About?” Mom's voice didn't waver as she wove her arm around his waist and fell into step with him walking down the hall.

“About a certain someone posting an article that tells the world Tam staged his own disappearance, which encourages other kids to do the same thing. News reporters have been hounding the sheriff's office ever since, and because the reporter was my
daughter, they called my boss, telling him to talk to me about her.”

Mom led Dad into the kitchen where she pulled two bottles of water out of the fridge and handed one to Sam. “Well, they shouldn't have done that.”

“But they did.” He turned to Sam. “Why would you do that?”

“Whoa, honey. Did you read the article your daughter wrote?” Sam's mother asked, setting down her water and pulling her cell phone from her pocket.

“Um, no.” Dad glanced at Sam, not looking nearly as angry as before.

“I'm so proud of her.” Sam's mother handed him the cell phone.

Dad scrolled, reading, then handed the phone back to Sam's mother. “It's well written, Sam.”

Mom shook her head. “Charles! Yes, it's well written, but it's also good reporting.”

“That's not the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

Sam stayed silent. Her parents didn't argue, but they sure had some lively debates. Sam had learned that during these times, it was best for her to adhere to the old saying: do not speak unless spoken to.

“The point is she revealed that the whole thing was planned. A setup, if you will. That a kid orchestrated his own disappearance.”

Mom shrugged, using her hands for more emphasis.
“She reported the facts as they are right now. She didn't reveal anything she shouldn't have, nor anything she gave her word she wouldn't mention. She protected her sources to the public. That's good, clean reporting, Charles.” She popped her hands on her hips. “I'm so proud.”

“Of course you are,” he mumbled.

But it was loud enough that Sam's mother heard it. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just that you are looking at it from a reporter's perspective. I have to look at it from a cop's.” He groaned.

Mom softened her tone. “What did your captain say?”

“You mean after he chewed me up one side and down the other? Telling me how tired he was of having my daughter disrupt an investigation—”

“Dad, I didn't disrupt anything,” Sam forgot her vow to remain silent. “They still wouldn't have a clue that Tam did this all for a project if I hadn't written the article about secret meetings. Jared wouldn't have said anything to anyone, and the sheriff's office wouldn't have any idea where Tam had gone. At least now they know where he went from school and that he went willingly and wasn't abducted.” She stopped talking because she ran out of breath as though she'd just finished the cheer team's long program.

“But you don't know for a fact that Tam did all this for a project,” he argued.

“Yes, yes I do.” Sam stood up straight. “I know Tam Lee. I know what kind of person he is. He would allow this to happen so he could show kids how important safety and awareness of their surroundings is. He would do this to prove the point that awareness classes needed to be mandatory to help kids protect themselves.”

“So where is he now? Putting his parents through so much . . . that doesn't sound like a kid you should be defending, Sam.”

“Dad, I know it sounds like he's uncaring, but I
do
know what kind of person Tam is, and some of the things he said to Jared confirm he never intended this to go on so long. His plan was to be home by ten Wednesday night.”

“It's now Friday, pumpkin. Why did he leave his friend's? Where did he go?”

“That's what we don't know, Dad, but I can tell you, it's something beyond his control.”

“How can you be so sure?” he asked.

“Because I know him. Trust me, Daddy, something's happened. Tam didn't plan on being gone so long, and if he could contact his parents and straighten it out, he would. I know it.” She reached out and grabbed his hand. “Please don't write off what I'm saying because I'm a kid. I know Tam.”

Sam's father looked at her mother, then back at Sam. “Okay. Captain York said I should do whatever
was necessary to help the sheriff's office find the missing boy and restore a semblance of order in the community.”

“You mean, you get to help in the investigation?” Sam's body jumped with excitement. This was perfect!

“Sam, calm down.” Dad's voice went stern.

She stared at the kitchen floor, hoping she looked contrite because she certainly didn't feel that way.

“Now, as I said, Captain York wants the situation handled and soon. I'm to help as needed, but, and here's where I need you to pay close attention, Sam . . .”

She lifted her head and met his stare.

“I'm not to step on the sheriff deputies' toes. This is their case.”

“But they aren't doing such a great job, Dad.”

“Sam.”

She nodded. “Okay. Yes, sir.”

“The deputies have called Jared's parents. They were heading over to speak with them and look over the house when Captain York called. I imagine they're there now.” He let out a long sigh. “I think the supportive thing for me to do would be to go over there and offer my assistance.”

Sam widened her eyes. “Can I go with you?”

He cocked his head to the side. “I know you did not just ask me that.”

Hey, it was worth a try, right? “I know, Dad. I had to ask though.”

He ran a hand over her head, much like he used to do when she was much younger. “I know, pumpkin. But what I do need is for you to be by your phone. If there's something there that I see or hear that maybe you might be able to explain, I'm going to call. Okay?”

For once, she'd be assisting the police instead of fighting them. Could be interesting. “Of course.”

He kissed her forehead, right at her hairline. “I'll get going.” He looked at Sam's mom. “Walk me out?”

“Of course.” She took his hand as they left the kitchen.

Her parents' affection sometimes made her want to gag, but for the most part, she was happy that her parents were loving with one another. They debated with drive, but they also showed their love with just as much energy and dedication.

Sam quickly sent a text to Makayla and filled her in on everything that had happened. Her phone rang almost immediately.

“Hey, Mac. I can't talk long. Need to keep the line open once Dad gets to Jared's house.”

“Sam, have you seen the school's blog?”

She'd been so busy . . . “No, why?”

“
Ohmygummybears
, girl. It's blowing up.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just people posting about how they're worried about Tam even more now and some are talking about how we, as a society, put too much emphasis on
academic competition and excellence. Oh, and that sparked a lot of posts on the argument of school versus homeschooling, to which you know my mother paid attention.”

Sam groaned. Mrs. Ansley had made noise this year, for some strange reason, about how it might be a good idea to homeschool Makayla and her little sister. Makayla had managed to squelch the notion for many months, but it was always there, lurking in the Ansley home, just like a monster from a bad dream. Sam would be miserable if Makayla wasn't at school with her every day.

“There've been over six hundred comments, Sam.”

“That's insane.” Even the bomb threat at the local theater hadn't gotten that many hits.

“Tell me about it. Parents and students alike are posting. Most of the kids are posting kudos to Tam, which is fueling the parents' comments about how this is such a bad example and how Tam is leading kids astray.”

“Oh, that's ridiculous.”

“I know, I know. I'm just telling you what the comments consensus is right now.”

The door to the garage closed and Chewy ran to the front window, barking as Dad's truck eased down the driveway.

“I've got to go. Keep me posted,” Sam told Makayla before hanging up.

“Well, that was fun,” Sam's mother told her as she came back inside.

“I'm sorry, Mom, but thanks for sticking up for me.”

“No worries, my girl. It's easy to defend when you're on the right side.” She smiled. “How about a snack? Dad doesn't seem to think he'll be gone too terribly long, so I don't want to eat something heavy now and ruin dinner.”

Sam nodded. “Popcorn?”

Her mom smiled. Hot popcorn with lots of melted butter was Sam's mother's weakness. “I'll get it started.”

While they worked in the kitchen, Sam told her mother about Makayla's call.

Her mother smiled. “I'm truly so, so proud of you, Sam. Getting people thinking and talking, that's what reporting is all about.”

“But some of their comments aren't really in support of the right stuff, Mom.”

Her mom laughed. “Silly girl, that's what discussions are all about—people presenting their own opinions about topics. No two people are the same, so opinions vary. That leads to good conversations, which causes people to think. That's the best goal of any reporter I know.”

Sam nodded as the microwave beeped.

“Oh, the awards and accolades are nice, don't get me wrong, but it's pretty awesome when someone tells you that something you've written made them see things
in a different light.” Mom pulled the popcorn bag from the microwave and replaced it with a cup of butter. She turned it on and dumped the popcorn into the big ceramic bowl they'd decorated together at a local
paint your own
shop. “That's truly rewarding.”

The microwave beeped again and Mom poured the melted butter over the popcorn and reached for the salt shaker.

“I guess I never really thought about it like that.” Sam grabbed two new water bottles from the fridge.

“Getting a scoop is awesome, and responsible reporting is vital because your reputation is what's on the line, but when you can get people to think and talk and truly consider looking at something from a new angle . . . that, my girl, is the mark of a star reporter.” She leaned over and hugged Sam. “Like I said, I'm just so proud.”

Sam laughed and grabbed a handful of popcorn. She dropped a piece, and Chewy was there to snatch it up before the five second rule could be debated.

“That dog acts like she hasn't eaten in days,” Mom said.

“I know. I think she has to make up for not eating a lot when it's storming. She hardly ate a thing Wednesday night.”

“Well, with the tornado sirens going off, I'm sure it hurts her ears.” Mom tossed the dog a piece of popcorn.

“Mom!”

Sam's mother laughed. “Poor BabyKitty. She wouldn't even come out from under the couch the whole time the sirens wailed.”

“It was a bit scary. I was a little upset to be at school and not home with you.”

“I wasn't too happy when we lost power and Internet. Thank goodness I'd saved my piece before the power blipped, and then I didn't think the Internet would ever come back on.”

“Speaking of the storm, we're supposed to have some rain tonight. Why don't you take Chewy out and toss the ball or Frisbee around for a few minutes? Just keep your phone in your pocket in case Dad calls.”

Sam grabbed another handful of popcorn and snatched up her water bottle. “You just want to keep me out of your popcorn.”

Her mother's laughter followed her into the backyard. Chewy ran around, barking at the leaves on the trees and the squirrels running high above her head.

Sam spied the darkening clouds. As she had on Wednesday, she wondered where Tam was, and could only pray he was protected from the weather.

At least they were closer to finding him now than they'd been on Wednesday.

She hoped.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I
fell into a burning ring—

Sam dug her phone out of her pocket. That was Dad's special ringtone, since he was such a Johnny Cash freak. “Dad?” She slipped back into the house.

Her mom met her at the door.

“Hi, pumpkin. Listen, it's the strangest thing, but Tam's parents just called the sheriff's office and reported Tam had called them.”

Sam's throat almost closed. “What? He called them? How? Where is he? Where's he been? What—”

“I don't know all of that. The call was apparently a very bad connection and they got disconnected before he could tell them where he was. We've called the news stations to get the word out that anybody who hears from Tam should please call the sheriff's office immediately. I'm asking you to post the same on your
school's blog.” There was a pause and rustling sound before Dad continued. “I understand there's a lot of activity on the blog. Maybe your post will help get the word out.”

“I'll do it right now, Dad.”

“Thanks, Sam. I'll call you if I hear anything.” The connection broke.

Sam told her mom what Dad had said as she walked to her bedroom to her MacBook. She quickly typed up a blog post and sent it up. She held her bottom lip between her teeth. “I hope it'll be enough. I hope he can call someone else.”

Her mom sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed Sam's hand. “Let's pray.” She waited until Sam had bowed her head and closed her eyes, then her words filled the air. “Lord, we ask that You watch over Your son, Tam, just as You've been watching over him since before he was even born. We ask that You bring comfort to his parents, who got to speak to him. We ask that You guide this situation to Your will. In Jesus' precious name we pray, Amen.”