Page 48

FORTY-SEVEN

KIDS LEARN & PLAY

Ellie left the ERT to finish searching and carried Barbara’s computer and planning books to her Jeep. The sleet had paused, but the air still felt damp and held a lingering chill. The bare pawpaw trees looked bleak against the misty gray of the dark clouds, and tree branches swayed beneath the weight of the snow that hadn’t yet melted.

The image of those girls in the ice taunted her as she phoned the number for the director of the school. “I understand the school is not open on Saturdays but we’re looking for one of your employees, Barbara Thacker.”

“Oh, my, I heard that on the news. You still haven’t found her?”

“I’m afraid not. And I could use your help. Can you contact some of the staff who knew Ms. Thacker and meet me at the school to answer some questions?”

“Of course. I’ll make some calls and see you there in an hour if that works for you.”

“Absolutely.”

Ellie relayed her plans to Derrick and decided to drop him at the station.

They were both lost in thought as she drove them back to town. Anxious to speak to Barbara’s coworkers, she headed to the school.

Except for four cars and an old pick-up that had seen better days, the parking lot was empty. Snow covered the outdoor playground and paper snowflakes covered the windows.

Ellie climbed out, tugging her coat around her as she walked up to the entrance. A middle-aged woman in slacks and a sweater greeted her and introduced herself as the director. “We’ve all gathered in our conference room.”

“Thanks for meeting me.” She followed the woman down a short hall, past an office labeled Break Room then to a room next to it housed with round tables, a coffee station and chalkboard.

Colorful kids’ artwork lined the walls and signs pointed in different directions, labeling the different areas and classrooms. Next, she led Ellie to a room labeled Director and they went inside.

Four women ranging from their twenties to forties were seated at the table, their expressions worried.

The director introduced Ellie and settled into a seat at the head of the table.

“I’m sorry to bring you in on a weekend,” Ellie said. “But we’re looking for your coworker, Barbara Thacker, and I have reason to believe she may be in danger.” Or in trouble, although Ellie didn’t want to show her hand yet.

“Oh, my goodness. I saw you on the news,” the receptionist said. “What’s going on?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Ellie said. “I understand she works here. Do you know where she is?”

The receptionist fidgeted. “No, she called three days ago and said she had a family emergency and needed some time off.”

Ellie raised a brow. “What kind of family emergency?”

“She didn’t say. I didn’t even know she had any family. Well except for her ex.”

“Did she say where she was going?” Ellie asked.

“No. But sometimes she spent her holidays volunteering at the women’s shelter.”

She sounded like a caring person. “What about children of her own?” Ellie asked.

“She didn’t have any. She called the children here her family,” the receptionist answered. “Why do you think she’s in danger?”

“Because she might know something about the little girls we found dead at Emerald Falls.”

“You mean as a witness?” one of the other women cut in.

“That’s possible,” Ellie hedged.

The fact that there were children’s beds and toys in the house still disturbed Ellie. “Did Barbara ever babysit or provide childcare for others? Perhaps some of the kids here?”

“Not that I know of,” the director said. The other women shook their heads in agreement.

“Did she seem upset or worried about anything recently?” Ellie asked.

A young redhead named Tessa fidgeted. “She kind of got depressed around this time of year.”

Ellie raised a brow. “Any specific reason?”

“Years ago, Barbara gave birth to a stillborn baby. She doesn’t like to talk about it but I think that anniversary is this time of year.”

Ellie’s heart gave a tug.

The director spoke up, “I suggested she see a counselor or join a support group, but she said she had her own group, friends who understood what she’d been through.” A sad look flickered in her eyes. “One day I saw her crying when she got off the phone. She said it was harder and harder to meet them each year and watch their children grow up.”

Yet she worked with children every day.

“Did she consider adoption?”

Tessa shrugged. “I suggested it, but I don’t know if she ever followed through.”

Ellie shifted. “Do you know the names or contact information for any of her friends?”

Tessa shook her head. “If I did, I’d have already called them to check on her.”

Ellie detected concern in Tessa’s tone and laid her card on the table. “If you hear from her or think of anything that might help, please give me a call.”

She stood and left the room, then headed toward the entrance. But as she reached the door, the janitor stopped her.

“Be careful there, that floor’s slippery.”

“Thanks,” Ellie said as she glanced at the man. He was probably thirty, young for a man working as a custodian, with choppy brown hair, a scruffy face and eyes a little too close together. A darkness permeated them that told her he’d had a rough life and she spotted a long scar on his right forearm.

“Hey, you that detective from the TV, aren’t you?” he asked.

Ellie nodded and noted his nametag read Jeb. “Did you know Barbara Thacker?”

His eyes cut back to the mop in his hands. “Yeah, I mean she worked here. Real good with the kids. Kept her classroom the cleanest of anyone here.”

Ellie smiled at his comment. “Did you ever notice her acting strangely? Like she was nervous about something?”

His bushy eyebrows formed a unibrow as he squinted at her. “Naw. Although she seemed fidgety and jumpy. Kept checking her phone and looking around as she went to her car.”

Ellie made a mental note to have Derrick examine her phone records.

“Did you ask her about it?”

He made a sarcastic sound. “Listen, lady, I’m the custodian around here. Nobody talks to me.” He glanced back down the hall. “Now I gotta get back to work. Gotta clean the gym floors when the kids ain’t here.”

Ellie nodded and hurried back outside to her Jeep.

Daylight was already fading and with the shorter winter days, the skies were so dark it felt like nighttime.

Frustration knotted her stomach. Another day that had gone by with no answers as to the girls’ names or who killed them.

Barbara’s computer and planning book lay on her seat, mocking her. Wind beat at the Jeep as she started the engine and headed back toward Crooked Creek. She phoned Derrick then relayed her conversation with Barbara’s coworkers.

“I’ll take a look at Barbara’s phone records,” Derrick agreed.

“Check Barbara’s computer and planning book for any mention of her friends outside work. Maybe they know where Barb is.”

And her connection to the twins.