A Son's Tale
“I’m not at liberty to say any more at this time.”
“Has someone found Claire?”
“No. And I really cannot disclose anything else at this time.”
“But you’ll let me know if you find the missing evidence?”
“Yes, Mr. Whittier. You can rest assured, I’ll be in touch.”
Cal hung up with a bad feeling in his gut. He hadn’t liked the sound of that last promise.
And he was going to make damned certain that his father didn’t catch wind of any of this.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MORGAN HAD A HARD time dropping Sammie off at school on Monday morning.
“You understand that you’re going to be under constant surveillance for the rest of summer school, right?” she asked as she turned the corner to approach Rouse Elementary.
“I know.”
“It was either that or be suspended. It’s only because you’ve never been in real trouble before—other than the acting-out in class last semester—and because you’re a good student, and because of Julie speaking up for you, that you’re even allowed to go back to summer school.” She had to get through to him. To impress upon him the seriousness of what he’d done.
“I know.” He looked her straight in the eye, his gaze so open and so childlike-sweet she almost choked up again.
“These are the consequences you pay for breaking the rules, Sammie.”
“I know.” He nodded again, looking down and back up again. “I swear, Mom, I’m going to follow the rules and I’m not going to run away again.”
Pulling up in front of the school she studied her son for a long moment. She wanted to believe him, but she had no idea if he was telling her the truth.
“I didn’t think about the police part.” He repeated what he’d told her when he’d come home to her on Saturday. “I didn’t think you’d call them. And I didn’t think about you being so worried. I just wanted to show you that I’m grown up.”
His eyes were wide and moist, like he was fighting tears. A little boy trying so hard to be a man.
“And don’t you see, Sammie, a grown-up would have thought of all those things—the police and the way everyone would worry. That’s why you have me. To think about the things that wouldn’t occur to you.”
She reached over and hugged him as best she could with the console between them. He kissed her cheek, just like every other morning that they parted ways.
“Remember we have our first meeting with Amanda Rohn tonight.” The counselor had come as a recommendation from Detective Martin.
“I know,” Sammie said again. “But we don’t need her. I just stayed out one night. I was coming home by myself. We didn’t need the cops.”
He’d told her all of that before, too. And it was his lack of understanding of the seriousness of his actions that scared her more than anything at this point. It was the mixture of mature thoughts with the innocence of childhood. Like the time he’d seen something on the news and thought that she could call the president of the United States and offer a solution.
Hopefully the counselor would be able to help her get through to him.
“Don’t worry, Mom, nothing bad’s going to happen,” Sammie said, and slid out of the car, slamming the door behind him before trotting off to the closest entrance. His backpack swung behind him, almost bigger than his torso.
Maybe Sammie was right and she had nothing to worry about. Maybe she should just trust him like he kept saying. Or maybe her son was planning his next adventure.
She prayed that it was the former.
* * *
MORGAN DIDN’T EVEN get both feet on the ground at the university before people were calling out to her, congratulating her on her son’s safe return.
Being older than most of her fellow students meant that while Morgan was friendly with them, none of them were really friends. She didn’t hang out or go to bars or coffeehouses. She went to class and home to Sammie.