Because of a Girl by Janice Kay Johnson Page A

“Didn’t that CPS worker show up?”
    â€œYes, but it turned out she didn’t even know the police were involved yet.”
    â€œShe didn’t think you’d done anything wrong, did she?” In a typical swing of the teenage pendulum, Emily sounded mad that anyone would accuse her mother of wrongdoing.
    Meg managed a smile of sorts. “No, I don’t think she did. We had a pleasant conversation, and I agreed to consult her when Sabra’s home again.”
    â€œOh.” Emily chewed on her lower lip. “I keep trying her phone, but it isn’t even on . Her phone is always on!”
    â€œDid you check Facebook?”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œEmail?”
    Her daughter gave her the look . “Who uses email?”
    Meg had only a business Facebook page. What did she know? “Can she send something completely private just to you on any social media site?”
    â€œWell, yeah, but...” Emily whirled and raced for the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll check again now.”
    The doorbell rang.
    Meg’s heart took an unpleasant lurch. The doorbell had come to mean bad news. Friends called—they didn’t just show up. Even Emily’s friends called first.
    A thunder of footsteps heralded Emily’s return from the kitchen, but Meg beat her to the door. Seeing the unmarked police SUV in her driveway out the window, she knew. It had to be him .
    Scared to death, she flung open the door.
    Detective Moore looked surprised at what he saw on her face, and he couldn’t have missed seeing Emily, too, hovering behind Meg.
    â€œI don’t know anything new,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to alarm you.”
    She let out her breath with a wheeze—or was it a whimper?—and grabbed the door frame for support. “Oh, God. I thought—”
    â€œI’m sorry.” He sounded like he meant it. “Uh...may I come in?”
    â€œOh. Yes, of course.” Meg retreated, Emily doing the same but sticking close. If she’d still been a toddler, she would have grabbed hold of her mommy’s leg and been sneaking peeks at this stranger.
    â€œEmily.” He nodded at her daughter and followed them into the living room. There, he gave off the vibe that he was a little uncomfortable. Was it because he had hoped to tell her something he didn’t want Emily to hear?
    This time, when Meg offered him a cup of coffee, he accepted.
    â€œSugar? Cream?”
    â€œJust black.”
    â€œEmily, would you mind pouring a couple of cups?” she asked. “There’s a pot on. You know how I like mine.”
    A flash of rebellion showed, but the teenager shrugged and left the living room.
    â€œPlease, sit,” Meg said.
    â€œAh...” He glanced warily at the sofa and moved toward an armchair. She chose her usual rocker.
    â€œDid you hear from CPS?” he asked in a low voice.
    That was what he didn’t want Emily to hear?
    â€œYes, and a social worker came by this morning.”
    â€œIt go okay?”
    Was he really interested or just trying to maneuver onto her good side now?
    Deciding to take his question at face value, she said, “Yes, the woman seemed nice and, unless I misinterpreted her, didn’t believe I’d done anything wrong taking Sabra in. We did agree to talk once Sabra is home.”
    â€œGood.” His broad shoulders relaxed. “The principal came on a little strong, I thought.”
    Was he supposed to tell her things like that? Or, once again, was he trying to—
    Meg made herself stop. Spinning in circles, trying to decide what everyone’s true agenda was, could make her crazy. And it wasn’t like her.
    â€œI guess you could tell I was mad,” she admitted.
    A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “You’re right. I could.”
    Emily appeared, a suspicious gaze aimed at the detective. “Um...here,” she said, less