“Thanks for letting us know,” said the employee. “I’ll let Miss Leticia know.”
“What happened to Miss Liz?”
“Liz?” Providence blurted and Dakota glanced over at her.
“She resigned,” said the staffer.
Dread filled his chest. “What’s Liz’s last name?”
“Give me one second.” The staffer put him on hold.
Providence was staring at him. “No, please, no,” she whispered.
“Sorry about that,” said the employee. “I couldn’t remember and had to ask. It’s Maddox. Liz Maddox.”
Dakota felt like the air had gotten sucked from his lungs.
“Oh, my God,” Providence said. “Oh, my God.”
“Did Liz say where she was going?” Dakota asked.
“Not that I know of. Let me ask the director. She’s right here.” Dakota wanted to put his fist through a fucking wall. “No, Liz didn’t say. She called in last week and quit. No notice or anything. We’re gonna miss her. She was great with the kids. We used to joke that she could get them to follow her anywhere.”
Hell, no. Don’t say that.
Dakota thanked her and hung up, his mind racing, yet none of his thoughts were coherent.
He stared at Providence for several seconds, unable to speak. Lizzie had wormed her way into Sammy’s life in order to gain her trust. This woman wasnotan innocent spouse. Liz Maddox was every bit as guilty as Randy…and every bit as dangerous.
A shadow darkened Providence’s eyes. “She worked there to target Sammy.”
“Sammy told me disturbing things Lizzie had said to her. At the time, they made no sense, but they do now.”
“She was the one crafting those blackmail letters,” Providence said. “We need to warn Miranda.”
“I’ve got to tell Sammy. If she saw Liz, she’d run over to her.”
They found Miranda working at the dining room table. “You two don’t look so good.”
There was no way to soften the news. “Sammy’s daycare teacher, Miss Liz, was Randy’s wife, Lizzie Maddox.”
Miranda’s eyes widened. “Well, that’s terrifying. Sammy was quite fond of her. Are you telling her?”
“We’ve got to,” Dakota replied. “I can’t risk her getting anywhere near Sammy and—” A sharp pain lanced his heart. He refused to finish that sentence.
Sammy plodded into the room dragging Blankie. The feeling of dread returned, but he forced a smile. “Hey, punkin. Sleep okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
After a quiet breakfast, father and daughter went upstairs. As he helped her into her clothes, he was relieved she didn’t ask about going to school. “Samantha, I need to talk to you, honey.” He sat in the chair, the one that was too small for his large frame. “Your teacher, Miss Liz, left your school.”
Sammy’s expression fell. “I’m sad.”
“Honey, she’s not a good person and she can’t be around children.”
“Nuh-uh, Daddy. She’s nice,” Sammy protested.
“She’s just pretending to be nice, Samantha. I found out she’s done some very bad things. If you see her, you have to tell me or Providence or Mrs. Morris right away, okay?”
