“When was the last time she spoke to Tamara’s mom?”
“She said that she had a falling-out with her daughter and that they haven’t spoken in a couple months. She didn’t like the new man in her life and refused to talk to her until she dumped him.”
Pulling in a breath, I let it out slowly. “I don’t have a good feeling about this,” I state, and Mrs. Thompson nods.
“Me either, but there is always hope, my dear.” Yes, and for Tamara, I will hope.
“I’m going to go sit with Tamara and wait for everyone to get here.”
“Good. I’m going to put in a call to the social worker and let her know what’s going on. Thankfully, Mrs. Albergastey is on the approved pickup list, so Tamara won’t be spending any time in child protection.” Yes, thank god for that. I would never want that for her, and if it came down to it, I would find a way to get her placed with me.
Leaving Mrs. Thompson on the phone in her office, I head out and, sitting next to Tamara, take her hand in mine. “Your grandmother is on the way,” I tell her quietly. Her head turns my way, and her eyes lock with mine.
“She’s coming?” she asks, seeming surprised. I nod.
“Yes, she should be here soon, along with Levi, the guy I was with in the park. He’s a police officer, and he’s going to come talk to you.”
“Is he your boyfriend?”
“Yes, he’s my boyfriend.”
“Is he nice?” she asks, searching my face, and I smile gently, giving her fingers a squeeze.
“He’s very nice, one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”
“You deserve to have someone nice,” she says, dropping her eyes from mine, so I squeeze her fingers again, needing her to look at me when I say what I’m about to say.
“Everyone deserves to have someone nice honey, everyone,” I state, and she swallows, looking away. I don’t understand why most women nowadays don’t think they are worthy of having someone who treats them right, someone who respects them and cares for them.
Hearing the front door of the school open, I watch through the glass as Levi comes in with Wesley. They both flash their badges at the security guard at the door. Standing, I step into the hall, and Levi’s worried eyes lock on mine.
“That didn’t take you long,” I state, since it’s only been about ten minutes since we spoke.
“We don’t have time to waste. You said her mom’s been missing for two days?”
“Yeah, that’s what she said. She’s right in here. We’re waiting for her grandmother to arrive,” I inform him as he stands close—so close that I can feel the tips of his fingers brush over mine. “Hi, Wesley.” I smile, and he dips his chin toward me.
“Fawn. I wish these were better circumstances.”
“Me, too,” I agree, noticing then that he and Levi have on almost the same uniform of dark jeans, boots, and dark shirts with their blue NYPD jackets, which are hiding the fact they are both carrying. “I’ll introduce you to Tamara, then we will go in and talk to Mrs. Thompson, the principal,” I say over my shoulder as I lead them both into the office.
As soon as we step inside, I get close to Tamara and rest my hand reassuringly on her shoulder. “Tamara, this is Levi and Wesley. Guys, this is Tamara.” I ask Sammy, “Can you do me a favor and just let Mrs. Thompson know that we are all here?” She nods, looking between the two men who seem to be taking up all the space in the office, then she gets up and heads for Mrs. Thompson’s door.
“She said to go on in,” Sammy says, and I take Tamara’s hand in mine. The guys follow us into the office.
“Gentlemen.” Mrs. Thompson stands and introduces herself to both Wesley and Levi, then she looks at Tamara. “Your grandmother is on the way. Would you like to wait for her to arrive before telling the officers what you know?” she asks, and Tamara looks at me.
“It’s okay, honey, if you want to wait, we can wait,” I say gently, and she shakes her head no.
“I . . . I can tell them what I know now,” she says, and I nod at her, then lead her over to the couch in the corner of the office and take a seat next to her.
“Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart,” Levi says after grabbing a chair from in front of Mrs. Thompson’s desk and pulling it over to take a seat. Wesley does the same, only he pulls out a pad of paper and a pen.
“My mom didn’t come home from work two days ago,” she says, and I watch her hands ball into fists. “She’s normally home when I get up for school, but she wasn’t on Tuesday.”
“Has she ever done that before?” Wesley asks, and her jaw tightens.
“Yes, but only once or twice.” She swallows, then adds, “But she always tells our neighbor if she’s going to be out, and she will come over and check on me and make sure I’m up to go to school.” Wesley nods.
“When was the last time you saw her?” Levi asks gently.
“Monday night at around eleven, when she was getting ready to leave for work.”
“Where does she work?” Wesley asks, and Tamara drops her eyes to her lap.
“Mr. D’s in Queens,” she whispers, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders.
“Did someone pick her up for work?” Levi asks. Tamara nods, keeping her eyes cast down.
“Yes, her boyfriend, Juan, picked her up from the apartment.”
“Have you seen or spoken to him since then?” Levi asks. Tamara lifts her eyes, and her chin wobbles.
“I . . . I called him today when no one was here to pick me up, but he said him and my mom weren’t together anymore and not to bother him again.” Oh my god. My eyes meet Levi’s rage-filled ones for a brief second, right before a knock on the office door drags my attention from him.
“Tamara, honey,” a woman says as she comes into the room. She looks so much like Tamara that I know immediately she must be her grandmother.
“Grandma.” Tamara rushes toward the older woman, burying her face against her chest while wrapping her arms around her. “I didn’t think you would really come.”
“Of course I’d come, you know that, honey. All you have to do is call, and I will always be there for you,” she says, and Tamara pulls back to look at her.
“Mom’s missing,” she says, beginning to cry.
“I know, I wish you would have called me sooner,” Tamara’s grandmother scolds her softly, holding her tighter.
“You and Mom were fighting, I . . . I didn’t think you would care,” Tamara says, pulling back to look at her.
“Of course I care, child.” She shakes her head at her, then pulls her back in for another hug, and I see the tears in her eyes as she does.
“Mrs. Albergastey, this is Officer Levi Fremont and Officer Wesley Jameson. They are with the NYPD. Tamara has been filling them in on what’s happened,” Mrs. Thompson says, and Mrs. Albergastey looks at both men, who are now standing.
“Please tell me you will find my daughter.”