“That makes me feel better. So, why are you calling?”
“It’s Miles. He’s still insisting that he saw an old lady with white hair in the trees the day Elsie disappeared. I know he likes to embellish and outright make things up for attention. But this feels different. Usually, he tells a story and then he’s on to the next tall tale. He won’t let go of this one.”
“Maybe it would be worth it to have a police officer talk to him again,” said Lydia.
“The reason I called this morning is that his mother is volunteering today, so she could sit with Miles while he’s questioned.”
“It might be good if I came along, too, since he trusts me.” Lydia knew Miles well enough that she thought she might be able to discern if he was telling the truth, a half-truth, or just making the whole thing up.
“That sounds good. If you can come when the class is on their outside break or at the library, you can use the classroom.”
“We’ll get over there as fast as we can.” After showering and changing into the clothes she’d bought the night before, she stepped into the kitchen where River sat at the table sipping coffee, Frankie at his feet.
“River, I have another straw that we can grasp at.”
* * *
River looked up from his coffee. Lydia seemed to have regained some of her natural determination. “I’m willing to try anything at this point. I just heard from Eva that Prentiss Grafton’s alibi checks out.”
“Oh.” Disappointment colored Lydia’s features. “Then what I am about to tell you may be our only hope. That was my co-teacher on the phone. Miles, a boy who’s in Elsie’s class, keeps insisting that he saw an old woman in the trees the day Elsie was taken. He tends to make stuff up, but Angel says this feels different. Usually, if he’s challenged about a tall tale he’s told, he’ll back down.”
“I remember you mentioning that. Let’s go over there and question the child.” Without any strong leads, he’d been thinking of circling back to Sloane. Though an in-person interview would be best, the rehab was a three hour drive away. Talking to Miles might turn up the lead they needed. One of the things he’d learned about investigations was that when they stalled out, it was often worth it to revisit old evidence to try to see it with fresh eyes.
They both grabbed a protein bar and headed out the door with Frankie. They got into his patrol car. His personal car with the broken window was parked on the street. He’d have to get it into a window replacement place before he used it again.
He drove across town and parked in front of the school where Lydia taught. A group of children were playing outside.
“I’ll call Angel to let her know we’re here so she can have Miles and his mom go to the classroom where we’ll have some privacy. The other kids will be in the library for forty-five minutes.”
He deployed Frankie. The Lab’s charm often worked well to build trust and break the ice when it came to asking questions of someone. It should work especially well with a four-year-old boy.
As they walked the halls, several teachers and a child came up to give Lydia a hug and ask her if there was any news of Elsie.
Lydia managed an answer, though her voice held a degree of strain and her features hardened as she spoke. The questions were coming from a place of genuine concern but repeating over and over that Elsie was still missing was clearly a struggle for her.
Lydia led River and Frankie to the empty classroom where a boy with brown curly hair sat with his mom. The room itself was decorated with children’s art and educational posters in bright primary colors. Though River had only known Lydia since Elsie had been taken, the positive atmosphere of the room seemed to hint at who she had been before this tragedy. He pictured her at the beginning of the school year decorating the room for her kids.
Miles’s eyes brightened when he saw Frankie. He got up from his chair. “Can I pet your dog?”
Frankie wagged her tail.
Works every time.
Miles stroked Frankie’s head. “Her fur is so soft. Why does she have this vest on?”
Lydia got down to Miles’s level. “Frankie is a police dog.”
River got on his knees as well. “She’s my partner, Miles. I’m a police officer.”
Miles’s mother piped up. “Why don’t you come and sit back down, honey? Mrs. Caldwell and this nice policeman would like to ask you some questions.”
Miles did a half twirl before sitting in his child-sized chair. “Is this about Elsie?”
“Yes.” When River sat in one of the child-sized chairs, his knees nearly hit his chin. Frankie moved so she was in between River and Miles.
Miles stared at the table then stroked the dog’s back. “I miss Elsie. She was my painting buddy.”
“We all miss her.” Lydia’s voice swelled with emotion.
