A Son's Tale

And she could be facing a lifetime of it.

He’d never felt so helpless.

Watching his star pupil, watching the woman who’d become more than a pupil to him, Cal Whittier’s life altered course.

For the first time since he was seven years old he had a glimpse of understanding into the cruel actions—the reactions—of Rose Sanderson.

For the first time since he was seven years old, he felt an ounce of forgiveness.

CHAPTER NINE

SOMETIME IN THE EARLY afternoon on Saturday numbness set in. Morgan had finally agreed to lie down for a bit. But only on the couch. She’d tried her room, but hadn’t been able to stay put. She’d spent a few minutes in Sammie’s room, too, but being surrounded by his things, by the feel of him, only brought tears.

The couch had brought some physical relief to a body that was aching with tension and fatigue, but her mind still had not allowed her the bliss of unconsciousness. She’d doze, only to wake herself up immediately with attacks of fear. If she let go, left her vigil for one second, Sammie might give up, too. She had to send him strength every single second, to stay tuned in on the only level she could right now, a soul-deep level, a mother/child level. She had to help him hold on.

She’d kept her eyes closed, though, for the sake of anyone who might be looking in on her. Cal was still there, but he’d finally given in and fallen asleep in the reclining chair ad

jacent to the couch.

Detective Martin was in the other room doing whatever a detective did while waiting for word. The Tyler Police Department was still canvassing the neighborhood where Sammie had been seen last. They were still looking for the man her son had been seen talking to. They were setting up larger-scale searches of the area and already had dogs out.

She’d wanted to join them. Needed to be out there looking. Her job, she’d been told, was to stay home in case someone tried to contact her. They wanted her voice on the other end of the line. It was when Elaine Martin had mentioned that they might put Sammie on the line that she’d agreed to do as they’d ask and stay put.

At the moment, staying put was the hardest thing she’d ever done.

Hearing a rustle, Morgan opened her eyes to see Detective Martin in the archway from the dining room, her phone suspended in her hand. She’d said she was putting the ringer on silent when Morgan had agreed to lie down.

“They found the guy who was speaking with your son,” Elaine said. Morgan flew off the couch as the clank of the recliner lowering sounded. “He says Sammie was asking him directions to the bus depot,” the detective continued as Morgan followed her to the dining table. Cal was beside her in an instant, and Morgan’s heart pounded as she and her college professor exchanged glances.

“Do they like his story?” Cal asked.

“Yeah. The guy’s alibi checks out. He’s got no record. He plays basketball for UT,” Elaine Martin said, naming the well-known state university. “He said that Sammie recognized him.”

Morgan’s eyes filled with tears yet again, and she blinked them away impatiently. “That sounds like Sammie,” she said, pulling out a chair and placing herself in it. She had to stay calm. Focused now.

“We’ve got people at every bus stop in town and down at the station, too,” Detective Martin continued. “We’ve also pulled surveillance tapes. They’ve been on red alert down there since yesterday morning. We’ve passed around Sammie’s photo to every shift and posted it on the walls, too, but it’s possible that he slipped by unnoticed.”

“A ten-year-old kid boarding a bus alone would go unnoticed?” she asked, incredulous.

“It’s summer. The sad truth is that a lot more kids than you know are put on buses alone to travel between parents over the school break.”

“You think Sammie might have gone alone, then?” Cal asked. “He might have run away?”

“It’s possible.”

She’d ground him for life, Morgan thought. Right after she hugged him to death and slept for twenty-four hours. “Where would he get the money for a bus ticket?”

“Apparently your mother told Detective Warner this morning that she’d given Sammie money for new basketball shoes a few weeks ago. He’d been so excited about the shoes, it had never occurred to her that he’d use the money for something else. I guess she didn’t realize he was still wearing the shoes with the hole in the toe until she heard the description of him read at the press conference this morning.”

Thank God. Oh, thank God. Relief was heady. Making her dizzy. She’d be angry with her mother later. And Sammie, too. Right now she was just so thankful to have hope that she didn’t care about expensive shoes and gifts behind her back.

“She told Detective Warner, but no one else because she didn’t want your father to know,” Elaine Martin continued.

Morgan nodded, her lips trembling.

“You think Sammie would get on a bus by himself? And stay out all night?” the detective asked.

Morgan nodded again, fighting a fresh flood of tears. And Cal helped her out.