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“Good idea. Do you want my phone number and Cam’s?” I witnessed the accident, and he was driving the truck at the time.”

“Yeah. That’d be a good idea.” He jerked his head in the direction of the office. “I’ll get your info before you go.”

Ten minutes later, they were heading back to Ogden. Cam glanced at Jo. “Why would the guy who hit me drive the truck all the way to a repair shop in Naperville? Why not just abandon it on a street in a bad part of Aurora. Let the scavengers have it for parts.”

“Probably because the police would notice that it was abandoned, they’d check police reports of accidents and realize it was likely the truck that hit you. By taking it to a repair shop, the perpetrator made sure it was off the street. They had no intention of picking it up. Probably figured the police wouldn’t check a repair shop so far away from Ogden, so the truck would just sit in a bay. Or on the lot, safely hidden until the accident was forgotten.”

Jo saw Cam glance at his phone, then slide it into his pocket. “We okay on time for picking up Fiona?”she asked.

“Yeah, we should get to her school about fifteen minutes before the kids are dismissed.”

“Perfect,” Jo said. “That gives us time to talk to the principal.”

* * *

When they pulled into the school parking lot, there was a long line of cars on the street, curling around a curve in the road and disappearing from sight. Jo studied it, fascinated. “Does your mom wait in that line every day?”she asked.

“I guess so. That’s how the pickup works. If it’s raining or cold, the kids wait inside until they see their car.” He glanced at her. “I’ll tell the principal to have Fiona meet us outside her office.”

“Good idea. I don’t want her outside on her own.”

After parking her car, Jo and Cam walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. A uniformed security guard pushed a button and spoke into an intercom. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Fiona Pierce’s father,” Cam said, bending to the speaker. “I need to talk to the principal.”

The guard studied him for a long moment. “Can I see some ID?”

Cam pulled out his wallet and held up his driver’s license. The guard looked from the license to Cam, back to the license. “Okay, come on it.”

He unlocked the door and pulled it open wide enough for them to walk inside, then locked it behind them. Jo was happy to see his attention to detail and how seriously they took precautions. “Down the hall to the right. You’ll see the office,” he said.

Jo walked beside Cam until they reached the office with the “Principal” sign on it. Opening the door, they walked in and found a woman sitting at a desk in an outer office. “Can I help you?”she asked.

“I’m Cameron Pierce, Fiona Pierce’s father,” Cam said. “This is Jo Hatch. We need to speak with the principal.”

“Regarding?”the woman asked.

“My daughter Fiona,” Cam said. “She’s in first grade.”

The receptionist nodded, stood up and stepped into the inner office. Moments later, she opened the door and waved them inside.

The principal -- Janice Morrison, according to the sign on her desk -- was a middle-aged blond. She smiled at Cam and Jo and said, “Please have a seat and tell me how I can help you.”

After sitting down, Cam said, “This is Jo Hatch. She’s my bodyguard.” Morrison flinched and looked more carefully at Jo.

“Is there a problem?”she asked.

“Yes,” Jo said. “Cam was in a hit-and-run accident four days ago. He was clearly targeted -- the truck that hit him was waiting for him. He or she drove into the intersection, sped up as he approached Cam’s truck and took off after the impact.”

Morrison switched her gaze to Cam. “Were you injured, Mr.Pierce?”she asked.

“Concussion,” Cam said. “Still recovering.”

“Because of the attack on Cam,” Jo said smoothly, “We’re concerned about Fiona’s safety, as well. We wanted to alert you to the problem so you can take the proper precautions.”

“Willow School has very good security,” Morrison said, her gaze switching from Cam to Jo and back to Cam. “You saw the guard at the front door. All the doors in the school remain locked at all times, and no one gets into the school without an ID and a valid reason for being here.

“When there are children on the playground, there are two teachers out there with them. Children who are being picked up wait inside or near the front door until their parents’ cars pull up to the curb. And when children live close enough to walk home, we require that a parent or guardian come to the school, pick them up and escort them home.”