“What time would you expect Emma in the mornings?”
“By 7:30. She’s almost always in the room before Claire is.”
“Did you see Emma today?”
“No. I guess I didn’t think too much about it. She has allergies in the fall and had missed a day the prior week because she was sick.”
“Did Claire arrive at her usual time?”
“I think so. I mean, I’m pretty busy with the kids. I don’t really watch the clock.”
“Do you ever leave your room prior to Claire’s arrival?”
“Not once kids arrive. I could never leave them alone.” She said it fast, decisively. Almost too much so, thought A.L. “Let’s take another look at the sign-in sheet. Now, you said that you would not have been able to leave the room after children started to arrive. The sign-in sheet in your room indicates that the first child arrived at 6:42 a.m.” He pointed to the first line.
“Yes. Landon is always my first kid.”
“And between 6:42 and 7:30, six more children arrived.”
Kara nodded.
“Do you specifically recall being in the room when each of these children arrived?” A.L. asked.
“Yes,” Kara said. “Has someone said that I wasn’t?”
“No,” A.L. said. “We’re just trying to get a full understanding. Do you recall if Claire Potter was in the room when any of those six children arrived?”
“I don’t think so. Maybe for the last one. I don’t know.”
Now she was sounding frustrated. “Okay, no problem,” he said. “Kara, this morning, did you at any time, before or after Claire’s arrival, walk to the front of the building and talk briefly to Emma’s grandmother, Elaine Broadstreet? Did she hand off Emma to you?”
Something flickered in her dark eyes. More frustration? Anger? “I figured that’s what she was saying, based on Alice’s questions. But that never happened. I never saw her or Emma.”
Whatever emotions were reeling through her, her voice was steady. Confident.
“What kind of relationship do you have with Elaine Broadstreet?”
“I don’t really know her. I have responsibility for a bunch of kids. I don’t have time to chat with a lot of people.”
“What were you doing tonight when Alice Quest contacted you?”
“Getting ready to go to the gym. That’s where I go most days of the week after work.”
“Anybody else at your house right now?”
Kara shook her head. “My husband works twelve-hour days, 7:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. at the hospital. He’s a nurse in the Emergency Department.”
“He should be getting home soon, then?”
She shook her head. “He’s lucky to get out by 8:00 once he finishes charting. Then there’s a group of them that go out after work and toss back a few beers. It’s a pretty stressful job. He doesn’t generally get home until 10:00 or 11:00.”
A.L. had seen the inside of more than a few emergency rooms when he’d been a young cop. Lots of interesting characters ended up there. “What’s your husband’s name?”
“Sam. Sam Wiese.”
“Do you have any children?” A.L. asked.
“No. We’ve only been married for two years,” Kara added, maybe a little defensively.
A.L. personally thought people ought to wait a good long time before popping out babies. He and his ex had barely known each other’s favorite breakfast cereal when Traci was born. “Okay. Thank you for coming back today. We’re committed to pursuing every possible lead. In that regard, we’re going to want to search both your car and your house.”
“Really?” she asked. Now he clearly heard the irritation. But she quickly recovered and added, in a more neutral tone, “I’ll do what needs to be done. I want you to find Emma.”
“We will,” A.L. said. His phone buzzed and he glanced at the incoming text. It was Tess. Saw the Amber Alert. Are you working on this?
Yes, he texted back.
No one better.
He appreciated the confidence. Didn’t generally burn up too many brain cells worrying about whether he was the best. But right now he hoped like hell that he was good enough. Emma Whitman needed somebody in her corner.
* * *
Rena and Leah Whitman stood in the hallway, waiting for Elaine Broadstreet to enter. She came in the door so fast that it didn’t close behind her. The wind caught it and Rena saw the officer positioned outside the door reach over to shut it. Her stomach flipped. Somewhere out there in the wind was a five-year-old.
Mrs. Broadstreet was somewhere between sixty and sixty-five. Her hair was a pretty silver and cut short. She wore minimal makeup and no jewelry. Her blue pantsuit might have come from any department store but it fit her still-trim figure well enough.
Elaine Broadstreet’s eyes immediately went to her daughter. “Have you found her?”
Leah shook her head.
“Oh, God.” Elaine extended her arms, as if she meant to hug her daughter. But when Leah didn’t step forward into the embrace, Elaine awkwardly pulled her arms back and pressed her fingers to her lips.
“This is Detective Morgan,” Leah said.
Elaine lowered her hands, turned toward Rena. “What are you doing to find my granddaughter?”
“We’re going to do everything we can,” Rena said. “And you can help us by making sure that we’ve got the very best understanding of what’s happened thus far today. Can we step in here for a few questions?” she asked, motioning toward the empty kitchen area.
Mrs. Broadstreet didn’t answer but she and Leah followed Rena into the small room. There were no chairs so they stood.
“Can you walk us through your early morning, Mrs. Broadstreet?”
“What?” Her tone was now exasperated. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Sometimes even small details are very helpful,” Rena said.
“Well, I got up about 6:00. I showered, got dressed, and drove to my daughter’s house to pick up Emma. There, I never even got out of the car, Troy had her out of the house so fast.”
“What time was that?” Rena asked.
“I remember looking at the clock on the dashboard as I pulled away from Leah’s house. It was 7:08.”
“Then what?”
“Then I drove here.”