“Was Amanda in class last night?”
“Yes, she never misses. She’s taking advantage of a dual-enrollment program that allows high-school seniors to take college courses for credit.”
Amanda Skinley was a bright girl, born deaf, who rarely made waves and basically avoided the criminal path her brother had taken. Still, she might know something.
“In class last night, did anyone ask about Derek? Did Amanda ask about him?”
“Amanda didn’t say anything, but she rarely contributes much. She depends on her interpreters. She did seem out of sorts yesterday, though.”
“Go on.”
“Truthfully, until after class, when I opened his art book, there wasn’t much to tell. We had our break, right at seven-thirty. Class dismissed at nine. I went to the student union to go over their art books and comment on their progress.”
“Something you did after every class?” he asked.
“No, Patricia and I usually do it together in her office. Last night was the first time I went through the books by myself.”
“And up to Wednesday night, Derek was turning in only what you expected.”
“Yes. I don’t know why I kept reading. His words made me feel like I wasn’t safe, like I needed to hide, like someone was watching me.”
Rafe knew what it was that had prompted her to continue: morbid curiosity. It was the same pull that urged civilians to slow down when they drove by an accident. Derek’s life had been a train wreck, and right now, unless Rafe missed his guess, Janie was more or less one more victim tied to the track.
They made it five miles before Rafe got a call from Nathan canceling their meeting and rescheduling it for tomorrow. Seemed Nathan was dealing with a multivehicle collision on Interstate Ten where a tractor-trailer had spilled enough cocaine to imitate a snowstorm.
After hanging up, Rafe hit the steering wheel. Not very professional, but a heck of a lot tamer than what he really wanted to do. “I need something concrete to tell Brittney’s parents,” he muttered as he pulled into a convenience-store parking lot and turned the car around.
Janie just stared out the window. Rafe couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but after Nathan’s cancellation, she had visibly relaxed. “The fact that we’re not meeting Nathan today,” Rafe reminded her, “doesn’t mean that Derek or his art book is going away. It’s a delay, not a cancellation.”
“I’m well aware of that.” Janie gave him a haughty look. “It’s just that everything’s happening so fast. I need some time to think.”
Some of his annoyance lessened. He knew he was being unreasonable. Missing persons cases did that to him. And, truly, Rafe understood what she was feeling. It was like a horrible roller-coaster ride, one you’d not meant to get on and one that had no end in sight. The police world was like that. You had to solve a case in twenty-four hours or the odds of solving it decreased by more than half.
A good officer held on to that roller-coaster car and rode it until the tracks collapsed and the park closed.
A great officer knew that at some point you had to exit the roller coaster, step back, watch what others were doing on the ride and then, in just a matter of moments, get back on.
Janie seemed more like the Ferris-wheel kind of girl. The roller coaster? Not so much. She’d probably want to paint the cars.