Page 52 of Her Dying Secret

“We don’t think she was a teacher,” said Gretchen. “Maybe on the cafeteria or custodial staff? It’s our understanding that April got her the job.”

Hope started tapping away at the laptop again, murmuring as she searched the employee database. “I’ll check, but that just can’t be. I suppose it’s possible that April talked to me about hiring her—she still would have had to go through the application process, getting clearances and all that—but given all that’s happened the last few days, I’m sure seeing her face would have jogged those memories. I?—”

She broke off, shock blanketing her features.

Her voice was shaky when she continued. “You’re right. She worked in the cafeteria. Maybe I don’t remember because that was almost four years ago, and Mira Summers only worked here for roughly five months. The exact same time frame that Rosie was enrolled here.”

THIRTY-EIGHT

Hope turned the laptop screen toward them so they could see the photo of Mira that had been taken for her staff ID. She looked thinner and paler. Dark circles smudged the skin beneath her eyes. Her smile seemed stiff, but did anyone give a genuine smile for any type of ID photo?

Behind Josie and Gretchen, the door swung open. They turned to see a teenage girl wearing sweats stride in, a backpack slung over one shoulder. She carried a soccer ball under one arm and a set of keys in her hand. Her blonde hair sat atop her head in a messy bun. She pulled up short when she noticed that Hope had guests, but quickly managed a smile for them. Her features were a near-perfect facsimile of Hope’s face. “Shit,” she said. “I mean, you didn’t hear that. Excuse me. I didn’t know anyone was in here.”

Hope laughed but there was a bit of uneasiness to it. She still looked as though she might be sick. “It’s fine. Detectives, this is my daughter, Teryn Bailey.”

Josie felt a prickle along the back of her neck. Teryn. Her name was so similar to one of the people Josie had been on the ill-fated retreat with last year. She couldn’t help but bristle at the reminder of her own failure, especially while she was working a case in which she’d had physical contact with the suspect and had gotten her ass kicked so badly, she couldn’t arrest him. Of course, if Turner had been inside the house…She choked out a hello for Teryn and quickly pushed all of those thoughts and memories back inside her mental vault.

Teryn gave a stiff wave in response and went to her mother’s desk, handing the keys over. “I filled the tank. I’ll be—” Her words died as she caught sight of Mira Summers’s photo.

Hope didn’t seem to notice. She took the keys. “Thank you. I’ll be working for another hour after I finish here. You’ll be on the field, practicing, I know. I wish you’d put some of that focus toward your Spanish homework.”

Teryn smiled weakly, tearing her eyes from Mira’s photo and taking a closer look at Josie and Gretchen. Her gaze zeroed in on the pistol visible on Josie’s waist. “Mom, please,” she said, but there was no fight in her voice. To Josie, she said, “Are you here about April?”

“Teryn,” said Hope, a note of warning in her voice.

“I’m just curious, Mom. Everyone knows she was murdered. Everyone knows that creepy guy on the news took her. Did you catch him yet?”

“Not yet,” Gretchen answered.

“Teryn,” Hope said, this time as a reprimand.

The teenager was undeterred. She pointed at the computer screen. “That’s the lady who was just abducted by April’s killer, isn’t it?”

Hope gestured toward the door. “Really, Teryn, that’s enough. This is a topic for adults only. Now, please, go. We’ll talk later.”

Fury flashed across Teryn’s features, but she didn’t argue with her mother. With one last glance at Mira’s photo, Teryn said, “Yeah, sorry. Nice to meet you.”

The door clicked closed behind her. Hope sighed. “I’m sorry about that. She’s sixteen and to put it bluntly, extremely nosy. Well, I suppose she always has been. Lately she’s been obsessed with true crime, which I’m not sure is appropriate for her age. On the other hand, she’s old enough to learn that there are those out there who harm innocent people.”

Josie said, “Was she a student here when she was younger?”

“Yes. We go from kindergarten through fourth grade on one side of the building and then fifth and sixth grade on the other. After that, the kids are sent to a nearby middle school for seventh and eighth grades.”

“While April was a teacher?” asked Gretchen.

“Oh yes. April was Teryn’s fourth grade teacher, but they knew each other outside of school as well since April’s mother and I are friends. Teryn adored April. Even when she was no longer in April’s class, she would find excuses to be near her. She was quite devastated when April left for her new job even though she’d moved out of April’s class by then. Teryn helped a lot with the search for April, especially with the social media aspect. These kids are so savvy now with technology.” Hope’s eyes misted over. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m on a tangent. I’m just…this is such a shock. I still don’t understand how April got caught up in all this.”

Gretchen used her pen to point at the laptop. “Can you tell us the circumstances under which Mira left?”

“Do you mean whether she was fired or left on her own?” Hope said, turning the laptop back toward her and skimming Mira’s file. “She resigned from her position.”

In the span of a few hours, they’d gone from not knowing what connected April Carlson, Mira Summers, and Seth Lee, to finding out that April and Mira had been half-sisters; Mira and Seth had been a couple; Mira had had a daughter—and Josie was certain the birth certificate would confirm that Seth was the father—and that Mira, with April’s help, had enrolled Rosie at Hillcrest and also gotten a job here. Then, five months later, both Mira and Rosie stopped showing up at school.

It was a treasure trove of information and yet, it still didn’t tell them what the hell happened that ultimately led to the police finding Mira and April stabbed inside Mira’s car three years later.

“Are there any staff who might have worked with Mira while she was here?” asked Josie.

Hope looked puzzled but answered, “I don’t know. The cafeteria supervisor for sure. I can ask around, but it will have to wait until tomorrow as everyone’s gone for the day. Does it matter? Now that you know that the child they’ve been talking about on the news belongs to Mira Summers and that—that killer? That’s what you were trying to find out, right? The identity of the little girl? There will be an Amber Alert now?”

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