by Robin Caroll
Sam was able to identify the school’s printer easily enough and send the picture to print. She handed the phone back to Mrs. Lee, then pulled the picture from the printer. Her heart skipped a beat as Tam smiled up at her. Had he been safe during the bad storm?
She laid the picture on the counter and shifted to stand against the wall on the other side of the counter. Maybe if she stayed out of Mrs. Trees’ direct line of sight, the principal wouldn’t make her leave or wait somewhere else.
“We’ve sent the security officers out to look over the campus,” Mrs. Trees offered.
The office door opened, and a Pulaski County sheriff’s deputy in a brown uniform filled the space. He was tall, taller than Sam’s dad, but a bit heavier. He spoke out of the corner of his mouth from under a droopy moustache. “Someone needs to fill out a missing person’s report?” he asked with a voice as thick as his black hair.
Mrs. Lee nodded. “My son. He’s missing.” She went back to wringing her hands.
“I see.” The deputy set his clipboard on the counter.
Dad extended his hand. “Detective Charles Sanderson, LRPD.”
“Deputy Orson Jameson.” The deputy shook his hand. “Your son?”
“No. I just happened to be here when Mrs. Lee couldn’t find her son.”
Sam pinched her lips together and tried to blend into the wall beside the counter. Please don’t ask us to leave.
“I see.” The deputy looked at Mrs. Lee. “Tell me what happened.” He lifted his pen over his notebook.
“I dropped Tam off at ten before eight this morning. I’m positive about the time because I checked the clock in my car when I saw the gate wasn’t unlocked yet.” Mrs. Lee threw the principal a hard look. “The gate is supposed to be open at seven forty-five, but it’s hardly ever unlocked on time.”
“Now, that’s not—” Mrs. Trees started.
“We’ll get to you in a moment,” the deputy interrupted. He nodded at Tam’s mom. “Please, continue. You dropped him off. Did you see where he went, what he did, who he was with? Tell me everything you remember.” His tone was much softer when he talked to Tam’s mom. Sam liked that.
Mrs. Lee mashed her lips together for a moment. “He got out of the car and walked toward the gate area. There were several other kids sitting on the stairs and bunched around the table there.”
“Did he join any of the other kids?” The deputy still held his pen above the notebook.
Mrs. Lee shook her head. “He leaned against the wall, on the side opposite the gate.” She looked at Deputy Jameson. “He was alone and gave me a wave as I drove off.”
“Did you recognize any of the other kids you saw there?”
“No. I couldn’t even tell you how many boys or girls there were.”
“That’s okay,” he said with a smile, his tone very gentle. “What was he wearing today?”
Without pausing, Mrs. Lee replied. “Jeans and his gray t-shirt with SENATORS in gold. He wears black sneakers.”
Dad handed Deputy Jameson the picture Sam had printed. “Here’s a recent photograph of Tam.”
“Thanks.” The deputy looked at the picture, then slipped it into his notebook before smiling at Mrs. Lee again. “After he leaned against the wall and waved, what happened?”
She shrugged. “I drove off, just like I always do. I went to work, then came to pick him up like every day. Except he wasn’t here. He’s gone.” Tears filled her eyes.
Sam blinked herself. Tam was a good guy, certainly not one who would make his mom worry like this. Where could he be?
“Have you tried calling his cell phone?” the deputy asked.
Mrs. Lee shook her head. “He leaves his phone at home on the charger. It’s one of his dad’s rules—no cell phone at school.”
The security guards came into the office, filling the already-crowded entryway. “No sign of anyone,” Officer Burns told Mrs. Trees. “Only kids out there are the ones who are supposed to be, and are with their coaches.”
“Tam was absent from every class today?” Deputy Jameson asked.
Mrs. Darrington nodded. “I’ve checked the online attendance. The teachers update in the system daily, so the records are accurate. Tam was marked absent in every single class.”
Deputy Jameson turned toward Mrs. Trees. “I noticed cameras when I came in. Do you have any pointing at the gate area?”
Mrs. Trees shook her head. “Not yet. We’ve ordered two more cameras, but they haven’t come in.”
“Is there a teacher on duty in that area at seven forty-five?” Deputy Jameson asked.
“Not a teacher, but one of the security guards is in the cafeteria after the gate is opened, while the other is in the circle to watch children crossing the bus line.”
“What time was the gate unlocked this morning?”
Mrs. Trees looked at Officer Burns. “What time did you unlock the gate?”
He was a massive man, bigger than some of the Razorback football players that Sam had seen at the last game Dad had taken her to. Sam wasn’t a big fan of the security guard, though. He could be downright rude to kids if they weren’t in certain cliques. Sam’s group wasn’t included in his favorites.
Officer Burns shrugged. “Usual time, I suppose. Seven forty-five.”
Mrs. Lee shook her head. “No, I looked at my clock when I dropped Tam off. It was seven fifty and the gate was still locked.”
Mrs. Trees glared at Officer Burns. “Were you late again?”
He nodded, but dropped his gaze to the floor. “I guess I was a little late.”
“How late?” Deputy Jameson asked.
“Just a few minutes.” He lifted his gaze and crossed his arms over his chest.
“You were already five minutes late when I dropped off Tam,” Mrs. Lee said, her voice shaking.
“I usually am on time, but today, traffic was bad and I—”
“There’ve been a lot of times when the gate hasn’t been unlocked on time,” Mrs. Lee said. “I’ve called the office several times to complain.”
Officer Burns cut a hard stare at Tam’s mom.
“I’ve called about the same thing myself,” Dad reinforced.
“At any rate, apparently the gate was unlocked late today,” Mrs. Trees said, throwing Sam’s father a hard look.
“I’m trying to determine a timeline,” the deputy explained. He looked back at Officer Burns. “As close to accurate as you can be, what time do you think you unlocked the gate?”
The security officer’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “I was maybe ten minutes or so late.”
“Ten to fifteen minutes?” Deputy Jameson pressed.
“Maybe that.” The security officer nodded, pulling out his bandana and dabbing at his now sweaty forehead, even though it was cool enough in the office. “And kids can’t leave once they come through.”
“Okay.” The deputy straightened. “So we’re looking at a very short timeframe here. Between seven fifty and five after eight, that’s when Tam Lee went missing. Fifteen minutes at most.”
Sam swallowed. That was a really short time. She tried to remember when she’d been dropped off. It’d been straight up eight, and kids were just going into the cafeteria. Makayla’s bus had already dropped her off, so Sam had to run to be able to walk in with Mac. Did she see Tam then? She didn’t think so, but wasn’t sure. She honestly couldn’t remember.
“Do you know if your son would deliberately not go to the designated area?” Deputy Jameson asked.
Mrs. Lee shook her head. “Tam wouldn’t do that. He’s a rule follower.”
The deputy looked at Mrs. Trees and raised a single eyebrow.
“Tam is an honor student here and has never been in trouble,” the principal confirmed.
“Has he ever skipped school before?” Deputy Jameson asked.
“No,” Mrs. Lee answered before Mrs. Trees could.
Mrs. Darrington typed on her computer. “He’s not had an unexcused absence all year.” She tapped s
ome more. “Or even the two years before this.”
“I see.” The deputy scribbled on his notebook, then tapped his chin with the pen. “Mrs. Lee, does your son dabble in drugs or alcohol?”
She gasped. “No, of course not.”
Sam pinched her lips together. Drugs or alcohol . . . Tam? No way.
“He just has to ask, Mrs. Lee. He’s not accusing Tam of anything,” Sam’s dad said in his soothing tone.
“I understand.” But Tam’s mom sounded a little shakier than before.
“What about your son’s relationships at home?” the deputy continued.
“What about them?” Mrs. Lee locked stares with Deputy Jameson.
“How do you and your son get along? Does his father live in the home?”
“Yes, Tam lives with me and my husband.” She shrugged. “We get along like a normal family, I suppose.” But she sounded a little unsure, even to Sam.
“How about last night and today even?” Deputy Jameson leaned a little closer to Mrs. Lee. “Did either of you have a disagreement with your son? Ground him? Make him angry?”
She hesitated. “Well, he wanted to go spend the night with a friend last night but we said no.” She looked at Sam’s dad. “It was a school night and that’s against our rules.”
Sam’s dad nodded. He had the same rule, unless there were special circumstances.
“Was he angry you wouldn’t let him go?” the deputy asked.
“A little, I suppose.” Mrs. Lee wrung her hands again.
“So it’s possible he ran away.” The way the deputy said it was more of a statement than a question.
Tam wouldn’t run away. He was too mature for that. Sam sucked in air, which drew Deputy Jameson’s attention. “And you are?”
“My daughter,” Dad said at the same time Sam replied with, “Sam Sanderson.”
“Do you know Tam?” the deputy asked her.
She nodded. “He’s on the newspaper staff with me, but he wasn’t in class today.”
“Did you see him at all today?”
She shook her head. “Not that I can remember.”
“Deputy,” Mrs. Lee interrupted, “just because my son was disappointed that he didn’t get his way doesn’t mean he ran away. Tam’s never run away from home and he wouldn’t start now.”
The deputy seemed to ignore her statement and moved on. “Who was the friend he wanted to visit?”
“Luke Jensen.”
Sam gasped again. Luke Jensen . . . he was . . . well, he was the cutest boy at Robinson Middle School. At least as far as Sam was concerned.
The deputy shot her a hard stare, then glanced at her dad. “I think I’ve got it from here, Detective.”
Oh, no! She’d gotten them the boot.
Her dad stood and pressed a hand on Mrs. Lee’s shoulder. “If we can do anything for you, just let us know.” He nodded at the deputy and Mrs. Trees. “Come on, Sam.”
Now how was she going to find out what they were doing to find Tam?
“Sam?” Dad used that no-room-for-arguments tone he often reserved especially for her.
She let out a breath and moved alongside her father. “I’m sure Tam’s okay, Mrs. Lee,” she said before following Dad out of the office.
Boy, she sure hoped she was right.
CHAPTER THREE
Thanks for staying, Dad. I know Mrs. Lee’s really worried,” Sam said as she and her father climbed into his truck.
He didn’t respond until he’d started the engine, put on his seatbelt, and backed out of the parking space. “Sam, if you know anything about where Tam might be, you should tell me.”
“Dad, I don’t. I promise.” She was a little hurt he implied she might. Then again, she had kept things from him in the past. But not about something like this.
“I’m guessing you’ll ignore me if I advise you not to go about investigating Tam’s disappearance on your own, right?”
“Tam’s my friend, Dad. I’m worried about him.” That was the honest truth, and friends would try and figure out where he was, to make sure he was okay.
“I know, pumpkin. I just want you to be safe, and stay out of the sheriff’s way. Law enforcement doesn’t play around when a child is missing.”
“Will the FBI get called in?”
He chuckled. “Not unless a ransom demand is received.” He cut his eyes over to her. “Is Tam’s family extremely wealthy?”
She shrugged. “I dunno.” He didn’t seem to have more than anybody else at school.
“Is his father or his mom in a position of power at work?”
Sam shrugged again. “I don’t think his mom works and his dad is a brain or heart doctor or something.” She chewed her bottom lip, thinking. “Do you think he might have been kidnapped?”
“I very seriously doubt it.”
“Then where is he, Dad?” Nothing made sense. “Tam isn’t the type to ditch school or to run away. He’s smart and he’s funny. He’s an honor student, on the newspaper, and in EAST, just not my class.” Environmental And Spatial Technology, EAST, was a class that focused on student-driven service projects by using teamwork and cutting-edge technology, including GPS/GIS mapping tools, architectural and CAD design software, 3D animation suites, virtual reality development, and more.
“You don’t really know how people are, Sam. You don’t know what someone’s home life is like. There are a lot of things people don’t share. Especially at your age.”
“What’s that mean?”
He sighed as he turned into their driveway. “Just that if there’s something going on, many times kids in middle school won’t talk about their family issues with friends, much less teachers or counselors.”
“Like what kinds of stuff going on, Dad?”
Dad turned off the engine and turned to face her. “Like trouble at home. Arguments between parents. Any kind of domestic disturbances. Kids arguing with their parents. Being hit.” He shrugged. “Especially boys.”
“You think Tam deals with any of that stuff?” She couldn’t imagine that being the case. Tam was too sweet, and his mom seemed way too nice, but if what Dad implied was true, who really knew?
“I’m not saying he does, but I’m not ruling out that he doesn’t. I’m just saying that in my professional experience, kids your age can surprise you. Don’t think you know someone just because you’re friends at school.” He opened the driver’s side door of the truck and stepped to the driveway.
Sam did the same, grabbing her backpack from the backseat and slinging it over her shoulder. She needed to talk to Makayla. Maybe Mac had seen or heard something about Tam.
“Mom texted me that she was running to the post office, then is picking up dinner on her way home,” Dad called out as Sam reached down to pet her dog Chewy, that greeted her at the front door.
“Did you miss me, Chewy?” The black and brown German hunt terrier jumped up and down.
Sam laughed and skipped with her dog to the kitchen door. She noticed over half the food bowl was still full. “Did the storms scare you, huh?” She rubbed between the dog’s ears. Chewy didn’t like storms. She really didn’t like the tornado sirens that go off either. Whenever storms were in the area, the dog would hardly eat.
Sam patted the dog’s head a final time, let Chewy outside, then headed to her bedroom. She dropped her backpack on the floor and fell across her bed. The ceiling fan spun on low, just enough to move the cool air from the vent in the ceiling around the room and keep the temperature comfortable.
Was Tam comfortable wherever he was?
BabyKitty, the white kitten she’d recently rescued, uncurled from her position at the foot of Sam’s bed. She stretched and yawned, then “kneaded” the fleece blanket she thought was hers, and curled back up and closed her eyes.
Sam sat up, smiling and shaking her head at the cat, then dug her phone out of her pocket. She leaned over and ran her fingers through the cat’s thick, white fur as she quickly dialed Makayla’s cell number.
&nbs
p; “Hey, girl. Took you long enough to call,” Mac said. Her voice always cheered up Sam, no matter what, because Mac was so happy and upbeat all the time. Even when her mom was on her case or she was exhausted from karate practice, she was still so cheerful. Today was no exception, even though Sam had a lot of serious stuff on her mind. “I thought maybe you’d gotten in trouble and I wouldn’t be able to go home with you tomorrow.”
“Tam Lee is missing!” Sam blurted out.
“Missing? What? Tell me.”
Sam filled Makayla in on everything that had happened and all that was said, then almost out of breath, added, “I don’t remember seeing him this morning at all in the cafeteria or outside the gate. Do you?”
“Hmmm. I don’t think so. I don’t remember. He usually goes out of his way to say hello to you if he sees you, and that’s usually how I see him.”
“I know.” Sam wormed across her bed until she leaned against the pillows and headboard. She kicked her shoes to the floor. “I can’t imagine where he could be.” She thought about the storm. Had Tam been okay? Had he been inside where he was protected from all the rain and hail and wind?
“Me either, but I don’t know him as well as you do.”
Sam thought about what her dad had told her. “Well, maybe I don’t know him all that well. I mean, he’s nice and we chat in Newspaper and if we see each other in the hall, but I don’t really know him, know him.”
“I guess. Hey, maybe he’s home now.”
“That’d be good. Let me call and see.” Sam had all the newspaper staff phone numbers, cell and home. It was the paper’s policy. She pulled out the list with all the numbers.
“While you’re doing that, I’ll do some poking around online and see if I can see anything mentioning him on social media. If he ran away or something, he probably posted something somewhere to let his friends know how to contact him.” Unless he didn’t want his parents to see. “Or he told someone he’d private message them.”
Mac was not only ninja smart with computers, she was scary brilliant when it came to thinking of the obvious.
“I’ll call you back.” Sam dialed Tam’s cell number.
The call was answered on the first ring. “Hi, this is Tam. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back.”