Nathan motioned to an officer. Then, he walked down the path and pulled out his notebook before stopping to talk to two teachers. With a young cop on her heels—the same one who’d escorted her and Rafe to the police station earlier in the week—Janie made her way out the front door and headed for Rafe’s SUV.
“This is turning into quite a case,” Janie said.
He nodded.
“You like working for Detective Williamson?”
“He’s a good cop.”
She could tell the young officer believed those words, too. “What’s your name?”
“Brandon Long.”
“How long have you been an officer?”
“I graduated from the academy three months ago.”
Brand-new, and not that much younger than Rafe.
“So far, you enjoy it?”
“It’s what I always wanted to do. When I was little, I used to watch Adam Twelve reruns with my mom. I liked that Reed and Malloy helped people.”
As if to prove his words, he opened Rafe’s passenger-side door with a key Janie had not seen Rafe pass to him.
She climbed in as he said, “It’s a job that makes a difference.”
Funny, Janie’d heard of the show but never watched it. Based on her experience, cops only did what they had to do: stop fights, give tickets, take runaways home without caring why the twelve-year-old had run away.
At least, that’s what she’d always believed. But Janie was starting to change her mind about cops. She didn’t believe for a minute that Brandon Long would hesitate before protecting her. He might come across as a bit too serious, scanning the area as if he expected a Rambo wannabe to drop from the sky, but he had heart.
Just as Rafe did.
Around her, the campus looked lost and lonely. It was supposed to ring with the sound of young voices of kids who were vibrant with life and ready to take on the world. Instead, it was as if someone had, with one giant sweep, robbed the glorious place of all color.
For the second time today, Janie felt the urge to draw something other than an animal. And again, she wanted to draw a place, this place. Using black, white and gray.
“I’ll bet your mom is proud of you.”
He leaned against the SUV, glancing left and right, his hand staying near his gun holster. “She would be, ma’am, if she were still alive. She died last year of cancer.”
Janie’s mom had died of cancer, too, but Janie had been very young. Her only memories of her mother were of a laughing woman who used to sweep Janie into the air and laugh while they twirled together.
“Sorry to hear that.”
He simply nodded, watching as two figures approached them—Rafe and Nathan.
Rafe stopped speaking before he reached the SUV, so Janie didn’t get to hear what he and Detective Williamson had been discussing. Maybe discussing was the wrong word. It was more like Rafe was ordering and Williamson was agreeing.
“I’ll have everything ready first thing in the morning,” was Williamson’s parting line.