flier again. “She’s only nine years old, and she walks home alone, in the city?”
“No, she actually walks with two older girls. But they somehow got separated yesterday.”
Sister Abigail’s eyes narrowed. “These girls, how old are they and what do they look like?”
I quickly checked the information Todd had briefed me on this morning. Fifth graders Josie and Bridget walked Kailey to and from school for the past year. “They’re ten and eleven. Both brown haired. One’s got long hair and the other short. Typical little girls, I think. Why?”
“If one of them has a backpack with a boy band on it–I can’t remember the name, something about a direction–then I do know those two girls. In fact, I ran them out of the vacant lot behind the church yesterday after lunch.” The nun clucked her tongue, shaking her head. “I thought they should have been in school, but they said they had an early dismissal. I let them know the lot was no place for them to be playing. We have our share of hooligans around here. But your little one,” she gestured to the flier, “wasn’t with them.”
My pulse kick-started. “When you say after lunch, do you remember what time exactly?” The police were right. The two girls lied.
“It was before one o’clock,” Sister Abigail said. “I’m diabetic, so I have to keep to my schedule. And I’d just finished my lunch and washed the dishes. The window over the sink overlooks the lot, you see. That’s when I noticed them.”
Josie and Bridget had told everyone they’d taken their normal route. The church was not on that route or anywhere near it. The girls’ lie meant the police didn’t have the correct information about Kailey’s disappearance.
My jaw ached from the force of my clenched teeth. “Thank you so much, Sister Abigail. I don’t think we have the full story from those two. I need to call the police right away. If you remember any more or come across anyone who’s seen Kailey, please call the number on the flier.”
Sister Abigail promised she would, and I hurried out of the church, barely able to think straight. What were those girls thinking? The answer was obvious: they’d disobeyed their parents about the route they were to take home from school and were covering their butts. Typical children who couldn’t fathom problems beyond their own.
I punched in Todd’s number and hoped he’d let me go with him to talk to the girls. Probably not, but I’d ask anyway.
“Find anything?” He wasted no time.
“Josie and Bridget lied about the route they took home. A nun ran them out of the church’s vacant lot yesterday. Before one o’clock.”
“Goddamnit. So our timeline and location of her disappearance is off. I’m going to have those girls’ heads.”
I felt the same, but I had enough experience dealing with kids to know that was the wrong approach. “You can’t be a bull in a china shop. They’re scared and probably feel guilty. Let them know this is about helping Kailey. Be nice, not a bully.”
“Kailey doesn’t have time for me to be nice.”
“Why don’t you let me go with you to talk to them? I’ve worked with a lot of kids and–”
“Nope. This is as close to the investigation as you get. Thanks for the tip, and please keep searching if you have the time.”
He ended the call.
I hoped Josie and Bridget were still in school when I arrived this afternoon.
7
I searched for another hour before heading back to my apartment in Northern Liberties. None of the volunteers found any more information on Kailey. A dull ache had taken up residence in my head. I kept thinking of Kailey’s mother, of her vacant eyes, of the shock freezing her expression into a mask of disbelief. As much as I hurt, what about Jenna Richardson?
The sight of my building brought a sliver of solace from the storm I’d ventured into. As a historical junkie, modern apartments with cheap building materials don’t impress me. I needed some character in
“No, she actually walks with two older girls. But they somehow got separated yesterday.”
Sister Abigail’s eyes narrowed. “These girls, how old are they and what do they look like?”
I quickly checked the information Todd had briefed me on this morning. Fifth graders Josie and Bridget walked Kailey to and from school for the past year. “They’re ten and eleven. Both brown haired. One’s got long hair and the other short. Typical little girls, I think. Why?”
“If one of them has a backpack with a boy band on it–I can’t remember the name, something about a direction–then I do know those two girls. In fact, I ran them out of the vacant lot behind the church yesterday after lunch.” The nun clucked her tongue, shaking her head. “I thought they should have been in school, but they said they had an early dismissal. I let them know the lot was no place for them to be playing. We have our share of hooligans around here. But your little one,” she gestured to the flier, “wasn’t with them.”
My pulse kick-started. “When you say after lunch, do you remember what time exactly?” The police were right. The two girls lied.
“It was before one o’clock,” Sister Abigail said. “I’m diabetic, so I have to keep to my schedule. And I’d just finished my lunch and washed the dishes. The window over the sink overlooks the lot, you see. That’s when I noticed them.”
Josie and Bridget had told everyone they’d taken their normal route. The church was not on that route or anywhere near it. The girls’ lie meant the police didn’t have the correct information about Kailey’s disappearance.
My jaw ached from the force of my clenched teeth. “Thank you so much, Sister Abigail. I don’t think we have the full story from those two. I need to call the police right away. If you remember any more or come across anyone who’s seen Kailey, please call the number on the flier.”
Sister Abigail promised she would, and I hurried out of the church, barely able to think straight. What were those girls thinking? The answer was obvious: they’d disobeyed their parents about the route they were to take home from school and were covering their butts. Typical children who couldn’t fathom problems beyond their own.
I punched in Todd’s number and hoped he’d let me go with him to talk to the girls. Probably not, but I’d ask anyway.
“Find anything?” He wasted no time.
“Josie and Bridget lied about the route they took home. A nun ran them out of the church’s vacant lot yesterday. Before one o’clock.”
“Goddamnit. So our timeline and location of her disappearance is off. I’m going to have those girls’ heads.”
I felt the same, but I had enough experience dealing with kids to know that was the wrong approach. “You can’t be a bull in a china shop. They’re scared and probably feel guilty. Let them know this is about helping Kailey. Be nice, not a bully.”
“Kailey doesn’t have time for me to be nice.”
“Why don’t you let me go with you to talk to them? I’ve worked with a lot of kids and–”
“Nope. This is as close to the investigation as you get. Thanks for the tip, and please keep searching if you have the time.”
He ended the call.
I hoped Josie and Bridget were still in school when I arrived this afternoon.
7
I searched for another hour before heading back to my apartment in Northern Liberties. None of the volunteers found any more information on Kailey. A dull ache had taken up residence in my head. I kept thinking of Kailey’s mother, of her vacant eyes, of the shock freezing her expression into a mask of disbelief. As much as I hurt, what about Jenna Richardson?
The sight of my building brought a sliver of solace from the storm I’d ventured into. As a historical junkie, modern apartments with cheap building materials don’t impress me. I needed some character in
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