Page 24 of Delivering David

“Not at all. I had a great case manager who found a therapeutic foster home for me just as I entered high school. There was only one other girl there and I could stay until I graduated unless I screwed up and there was no way I was going to do that. Your turn is coming up on the right.”

“Sorry.” Kristopher quickly turned onto the street and followed his phone’s GPS to their destination. It led to a lone house with a long driveway with a small parking lot in front. The last houses they passed were a good half a mile back and he noted a covered bus stop at the foot of one driveway with benches. This one-story building was simple in design and looked well maintained. “This is a shelter?” he asked, pulling into one of the spaces. “It almost looks like a church.”

“It was a Quaker meeting house for years,” she said as he turned off the engine and pocketed his phone. The congregation outgrew the house, and they gave it, gave it, mind you, not sold–to All Families.”

“The agency absorbed by Tennessee Cares,” Kristopher recalled as Grant pulled in beside them. They exited their cars, and he followed them to the back of the house. The backyard was fenced and had swings, a slide and an old-fashioned jungle gym. Flower beds empty except for the remaining green of Lenten Roses graced the area. It was neat and welcoming as if someone cared about the children whose lives brought them here and wanted to give them a nice place to play.

At the end of the sidewalk, Suzanne rapped on the door. It was opened immediately by a tall, well-built woman with a mass of silver hair. “Suzanne,” she greeted, opening the door wider. “Grant Miller. And you must be Suzanne’s friend, Kristopher. Please come in. I have fresh coffee.”

“Kristopher, this is my friend, Sofia Langley,” Suzanne introduced as they stepped inside. “Sofia, this is Sgt. Kristopher Brower, recently retired from the US Army and whose helping me out with a situation.”

Sofia’s wide smile dimmed as she closed and locked the door. “You’re talking about Mercy Phillips, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Suzanne said sadly. “Can you tell us anything?”

Sofia gestured and they followed her to the kitchen table. After she’d served them, she said, “I’ll bet you want to jump to the chase. Mercy is really dead?”

“I’m afraid so, Sofia,” Miller told her. “I know you’ve already talked to one of my men about the Campbell girls, but can you tell us anything about the Taylors’ last days here?”

“Only that the Campbells seemed on edge,” Sofia said, her gray eyes narrowing. “Especially after the Clark sisters left so abruptly. Their case manager never did return my calls, but Perry Thompson, the shelter director told me he’d take care of things, including letting the CEO know, but he never got back to me.”

“What about Christmas Eve when Mercy came by?” Suzanne asked.

“There was something going on, that’s for sure,” Sofia declared. “I was getting off just as Mercy got here with presents for the Campbell girls, and they were, as my grandma used to say as ‘nervous as a pair of long-tailed cats in a room full of rocking chairs.’ When I left, it was just them and the Taylors, God rest their souls. If they have them.”

Suzanne exchanged glances with the men. “You know they’re dead?” she asked.

“Saw it on the news,” Sofia said. “I don’t want to be hateful, but they could be awfully mean to the kids. Always criticizing them if they put their elbows on the table or slurped their milk. Dumb stuff.”

“Kids in a shelter don’t need to be scolded,” Miller agreed. “They’re scared enough as it is.”

“Exactly!” Sofia declared. “The Taylors came in when Tennessee Cares absorbed it from All Families at the first of the year. Big phony smiles and ‘we’re gonna really make this place special for kids’ kind of crap. As if it wasn’t special already. Before they came, kids almost never ran from here. Since the first of the year, we’ve had four kids take off, and that’s not counting the Clark sisters, poor kids.”

“When the Clark sisters were ‘taken out’, was there paperwork?” Suzanne asked.

“The Taylors filled out the shelter’s discharge paperwork and kept a copy of Henry Tate, the Clarks’ state case manager’s report,” Sofia said, “but I still think something was going on. Something bad.”

“And you think the Taylors were behind it.” Miller clipped off his words. “That they were up to something.”

“I do,” Sofia said. “The Taylors came on duty in the late afternoon and would stay overnight five nights a week and sit up in a small apartment so they could keep an eye on things. Perfect chance for mischief, you know?”

Kristopher raised his eyes from studying the contents of his cup. “What did the Clark sisters’ case manager supposedly tell the Taylors about moving them?”

Sophia scowled. “Henry Tate? That skunk. He acted like he cared, but you could see he didn’t. This was just a job. He told the Taylors their druggie parents had learned where they were and were coming after them, so he had to take them out fast. But I don’t believe it for a minute. For one thing, he didn’t put in the discharge papers where he took the Clarks. It should state it there.”

“What do you believe, Ms. Langley?” Kristopher leaned forward and rested his arms on the table.

Anger sparkled in the woman’s eyes, but her voice was firm. “That someone took both sets of girls, and the Taylors were behind it. Now they’re dead and so is Mercy. It’s nothing short of a miracle that the Campbell girls were the only ones here the night they vanished. All the other case managers managed to find temporary foster homes for the rest of the kids because of the holidays. Who knows what might have happened to them if they’d been here?”

“Sofia, I don’t want to scare you, but you need stay away from here,” Miller warned and there was no mistaking the urgency in his voice. “Tell whoever you need to, whatever you have to, but I would lock the doors and leave.”

“Good heavens.” Sofia’s voice rose. “You think I’m in danger?”

“I wouldn’t hang around long enough to find out,” Miller warned. “And warn your son as well. We don’t want either him or you to be targeted by whoever is behind this.”

“Sofia’s son Alex works atDaisy’s,” Suzanne explained to Kristopher. “He’s on my caseload for adults who need help finding employment.

Sofia nodded. “I’ve made copies of Henry Tate’s report and the ones the Taylors filled out when the Campbell girls vanished. I don’t give a damn about confidentiality at this point. I just want both sets of girls found safe and alive. Maybe it was intuition, but Mercy never provided us with their mother’s contact information.”

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