Samantha Sanderson Without a Trace (7 page)

“Of course not.” He'd always been really nice to Sam, but he didn't exactly seek her out like this very often.

He sat down, then pushed the chair back a little bit. “Have you heard anything new about Tam?”

She had, but it was all unofficial at this point, and she was pretty sure she'd get in hot water if she told everybody about the note before the deputy could do anything with it. “They haven't said anything that you've heard, have they?” Sam despised someone answering her question with a question, but sometimes . . . well, sometimes it was just the best way to reply. “I'm really worried about him.”

“Me, too. I saw you taking up the index cards. Do you know what they're specifically looking for?”

Every warning bell echoed in Sam's head. “How do you know they were looking for something specific?” Even she didn't know that.

“Uh. Well. The way they were . . . uh . . . asking. And . . . uh, talking.” Marcus blushed a little.

“You should probably tell me what you're trying to hide, because you aren't doing such a great job.”

His cheeks turned pinker. “Look, it's probably nothing . . .”

What was it with people? “Marcus!” she hissed, fighting against screaming out loud at him. Frustration swiped at her chest like BabyKitty sharpening her claws.

“Okay, okay. It's just that Tam was supposed to meet a friend of ours yesterday morning but she was late meeting him, so now . . . well, she's worried that maybe he went to look for her and something happened to him.”

Sam was pretty sure her heart just skipped a beat. “Where was he supposed to meet her?”

Marcus looked at his feet. “Around the side of the school.”

“For what?”

He snagged her gaze and slowly gave a single shoulder shrug. “He's been helping her with pre-AP Algebra. Like tutoring.”

Yeah, Sam could so see Tam helping someone with math—he was good at it and he was sweet enough to help anyone who asked. But . . . “Around the side of the building? Before school?”
That
she couldn't quite see Tam doing. As his mom had told the deputy, Tam was too much of a rule follower.

Marcus shook his head. “From what she told me, they usually studied together during activity period in the library.”

That made sense. “Why were they meeting in a different place and time than usual?”

“I don't know.”

“Did you ask her?” Sam curled her hands into tight balls. How could people expect to learn something and not ask any questions? That drove her up the wall.

He shook his head again. “She's really freaked out about him being missing.”

Duh! “Aren't we all?” Sam swallowed back the sarcasm.

“Yeah, but she's scared because they told her the police want to talk to her and have called her mom to come up. She's terrified they're going to haul her downtown or something. I told her that was crazy.” He gave Sam a weak smile. “That is crazy, isn't it? I mean, I know your dad's a cop and all, so I thought maybe you might have an idea what the protocol is.”

“Your friend is Darby French?”

Marcus nodded. “How'd you know?”

Again, time to answer a question with a question. “How do you know Darby?”

“We have history together.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “You don't think they'll make her go to the police station or something, do you? I mean, they wouldn't do that to kids, right?”

“I don't know. This is the sheriff's case, not the city police like where my dad works.” Sam let out a long breath. “I posted the article yesterday afternoon about Tam missing. Didn't Darby see that? Or didn't she wonder when he wasn't at school? Why didn't she come forward?” Sam didn't know the girl, but her story sounded a little fishy.

“I asked her why she didn't tell anyone she was supposed to meet Tam in the morning, especially when everyone said he'd gone missing before school.”

“What'd she say?” Sam pinched her lips together and breathed slowly through her nose.

“She said that she couldn't tell anybody why she was late. When she got here, the tardy bell had already rung. She had to get an unexcused pass, and worried Tam would be upset with her for not making their meeting. But when she got to their math class and he wasn't there, she figured he was sick or had a doctor's appointment or something since he was rarely absent.”

Very true. Sam couldn't recall one day he'd missed this year.

“Darby said she didn't know anything was wrong
until she read your article online yesterday afternoon. She freaked because she thinks maybe Tam got worried when she didn't show and went looking for her or something and then something happened to him.” Marcus glanced over his shoulder toward Mrs. Shine for a minute, then back at Sam. “That's silly, right?”

Sam didn't know, but she could see that Tam could have gone looking for her. If he thought she'd be there and she didn't show, he would have gotten worried. Yeah, Tam was like that. “Where would he have gone to look for her? Wouldn't the logical place be the cafeteria, to see if she forgot or something?” That's what she would do.

“I don't know. It doesn't make any sense.” Marcus shook his head. “But now she's freaking out.”

“I don't know why she didn't say anything to anybody last night when she found out he was missing. That's important information.” Could be important to the case. “I'm not sure, but I think that's like tampering with a police investigation or something.” She was pretty sure she'd heard her father say something like that before.

Marcus's eyes widened. “That's what she's really freaking out about, but she says she can't tell anybody why she was so late for school. She told me that she was sworn to secrecy.”

“What does that mean?” Sam didn't like this, not one bit. It sounded like Darby knew something more. What kind of person was she?

“I don't know. She said her parents were going to be furious.”

“Students, save your work and log off the computers. The bell's about to ring,” Mrs. Shine announced.

“Look, if you see Darby later today, try to get her to tell you why she was late.” Sam shut down the computer.

“I doubt I'll see her. She was called out of class to the office last period. I'm sure because her parents were here.”

Sam frowned. “Well, I saw that the deputy's car was gone before I came into EAST, so if the police are going to question her, they're doing it somewhere besides school.” How disappointing. How was she supposed to figure out what was going on?

“Man, just what she was scared of.” He stood and pushed his chair under the table. “It's gonna be okay, right?”

“I don't know, Marcus.” She had to figure out a way to find out what Darby told the police. “If she doesn't come back to school, maybe you should call her and see how it went.” She didn't add—
And get the information about why they were meeting and why she was late and why she couldn't tell anyone
but she thought it.

“Yeah, I guess I'll have to do that.”

The bell rang. Sam squeezed Marcus's upper arm. “It'll all work out, Marcus.”

“I hope so.”

“See you in last period,” Sam said as she grabbed her folder and smiled at Mrs. Shine before heading to her locker.

“Hey, Sam,” Grace Brannon greeted her in the breezeway of the seventh grade ramp.

“Hi, Grace.”

“What's the latest on Tam?”

Sam supposed everyone assumed she knew all the latest information because she posted the news articles on the school's blog, which reminded her that she needed to update the site during seventh period with notes regarding the assembly. “They haven't said anything new that I know of.” Sam quickly switched out her folders and notebooks.

“It's sad. I checked Tam's Twitter account this morning and it's so strange not to see a recent post from him. He usually makes some type of
have a great day
comment every morning on his accounts.”

“Yeah, I know.” But Sam's mind was going in a different direction. Maybe, just maybe, Tam was friends with J.T. on Facebook or Twitter. Since Makyala wasn't interested in searching the student database for somebody, this could be a way for her to look. Even if it was creeping.

“I heard they're pretty sure he ran away from home.” Grace shut her locker and faced Sam. “I wouldn't ever suspect him of that, but I guess it's true that you really don't know people.”

Sam shut her locker as well. “I don't believe he ran away. That's just not Tam. He's too . . . too . . . responsible to run away. Everything he does serves a good purpose. I just can't accept him running away because his dad told him no.”

“Then why are the police treating it like that?”

“I don't really know. Dad says there are usually things the police know that aren't public knowledge.” Oh, how many times had he told Sam that?

“I suppose.” Grace started to take a step away, then turned back to Sam. “Are you praying for him?”

That stopped Sam cold. Grace had mentioned before that her family wasn't Christian, but Sam hadn't stopped mentioning church or inviting Grace to some of her youth group events. They'd had a couple of conversations regarding faith and God. “Yes. Yes, I am praying for him. That he's safe and will be home soon.”

“You aren't asking God why Tam's missing?”

Sam shook her head. “No. Why he's missing isn't as important right now as him being safe and coming home soon.”

Grace nodded, then turned away and disappeared into the throng of other kids.

She should probably go after her and explain a little more, but the bell rang, and Sam ran inside her class, whispering a prayer for God to show her ways to share her faith.

CHAPTER EIGHT

S
am popped her knuckles and leaned back against her headboard. She tugged the laptop on top of her throw pillow on her lap. “I still can't believe you refused to help me.”

“I didn't refuse to help,” Makayla replied from the desk in Sam's room. “I refused to hack into the school's database for you, which is a smart move.”

“You wouldn't have had to hack. You're a counselor's aide, so you have access to Mrs. Creegle's computer.”

“Sam! That's wrong.”

Grinning, Sam shook her head. “Okay, okay. But since you wouldn't look for me, I have to stalk Tam's social media pages. It's all your fault I'm becoming a creeper.”

“Like you aren't creepy enough already.” Mac laughed, causing BabyKitty to open her eyes and stare
at her. The cat's tail twitched in disapproval of her nap being disturbed.

“Don't tell your mom I'm a creeper, or she'll never let you sleep over again.” Sam opened her Facebook page and typed Tam's name in the search box.

“I think she secretly hopes your dad being a cop will make me, I don't know, want to be a lawyer.”

Sam broke her focus from Tam's profile picture to look at her bestie. “She's still riding that bus? Wanting you to be a lawyer?”

“Sadly, yes.” Makayla shook her head. “I don't know why, either. I've never been combative, argumentative, or wanted to debate.”

“Well, I don't know about not being argumentative,” Sam teased.

Makayla narrowed her eyes and made duck lips.

Sam laughed. “Have you told your mom that you don't want to be a lawyer?”

“Not exactly.” Makayla stopped smiling and shook her head.

“What does that mean? You either have or you haven't.”

“It's not that simple.” Makayla twisted in the desk's chair and tucked her feet under her. “I've hinted that it takes so much time and money to become a lawyer, and most of them starting out these days just don't make the income they once did.”

“What does she say to that?”

“She just says that such things are worth it in the long run.”

Sam leaned the back of her head against the pillow. “Why don't you just flat out tell her you don't want to become a lawyer?”

“Because then she'll ask me what I do want to be, and I just don't know.” Makayla shifted, tucking her feet under the other side of the chair.

“We're not even thirteen. We don't have to know what we want to be when we grow up,” Sam said.

“You do. You've always known.”

So true. “But that's because I grew up hearing Mom's stories and seeing her articles. She let me sit in her lap as she wrote when I was a toddler. Of course I want to be a journalist. I was raised with an excitement for trying to uncover the truth, for exposing what needed to be. It's a part of who I am.”

“You're lucky. You're so sure of yourself and what you want to do.” Makayla used that wistful voice she sometimes used when she talked about a break in a computer code creation or something along that path that went way over Sam's head. “It's helpful to know so you can make a plan. You have one, right?”

“I do, but I'm a freak, you know that.” Sam stuck out her tongue. “And you love me anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're lucky I do, or you'd be in big trouble.” Makayla's smile returned.

“Okay, time to become super creeper.” Sam popped her knuckles again.

“Stop doing that. It's gross.”

“You're just jealous you can't crack your knuckles.” Sam laughed as she clicked on the link for Tam's friends, then started scrolling for anybody whose name started with a J.

“I wouldn't want to. Haven't you heard it'll make your knuckles bigger and give you arthritis when you're older?”

Sam stopped scrolling through Tam's Facebook friends. “You're kidding, right? That's an old myth.”

Makayla shook her head. “My mother says that's why my grandmother has such horrible arthritis.”