Page 22 of The Sleeping Girls

“Detective Reeves, I’m Baxter Drummond, Mitch’s father. My wife said you’re here about a missing girl.”

“Yes, Kelsey Tiller. She goes to school with your son. Her parents are frantic.”

His shoulders straightened. “How do you think my son can help you?”

“I’m just gathering information at the moment. Interviewing students at the school to see if Kelsey might have been upset about something, or if they saw someone bothering her.”

He gave a clipped nod, then guided her into a formal living room. Sleek modern furniture and a baby grand piano gave the impression of sophistication.

A minute later, the teenage boy appeared with his mother. His hair looked mussed as if he’d just crawled from bed and he wore workout shorts and a black UGA hoodie.

“Mitch, this is Detective Ellie Reeves,” Mr. Drummond said. “This morning a girl at your school disappeared. It’s been all over the news.”

Mitch’s brows pinched together in confusion. “I know. The Amber Alert popped up on my phone.”

“Did you know Kelsey Tiller?” Ellie asked.

Mitch twisted his mouth to the side as if debating how to respond.

“Mitch?” his mother said. “Did you know her?”

“I… uh, know who she is. But she doesn’t hang out in my crowd.”

“And what crowd is that?” Ellie asked, fighting annoyance. She knew exactly how high school cliques worked. And that he was lying.

“My son is the star quarterback,” Mr. Drummond interjected as if that explained everything.

Ellie bit her tongue to keep from commenting. “I see. But you knew Kelsey, didn’t you, Mitch?” Ellie pressed.

The parents exchanged concerned looks and Mitch’s eyes cut to the floor.

“Not really,” he muttered.

Ellie crossed her arms. “That’s interesting. Because one of Kelsey’s neighbors claim they saw a boy sneak into Kelsey’s bedroom window a couple of times. And I was told Kelsey liked you, Mitch.”

Mrs. Drummond frowned and Mr. Drummond stepped in front of his son, his hand lifted in a gesture for his son to remain quiet. “Don’t say anything else, Mitch. Not until I call my lawyer.”

“Is that what you want, Mitch? Don’t you want to help us find Kelsey?” Ellie asked.

Mitch started to speak, but his father cut him off. “Not yet, son.”

Ellie silently cursed. “Then call your attorney,” Ellie said. “I’ll wait here until he arrives. Every minute Kelsey is missing is another minute she could be in danger.”

TWENTY-TWO

The fact that Mitch’s father immediately requested an attorney raised suspicions in Ellie’s mind. He ushered his son and wife into his study for a private chat, leaving Ellie in the living room wondering what the hell was going on.

She texted Deputy Landrum to ask him to run a background on the family, specifically to dig around and see if Mitch had been in trouble with the law before. Of course, if he had, his father could have arranged to have any charges erased from his record. He struck her asthatkind of man.

While she waited, she surveyed the room. Abstract paintings and a collection of glass figurines added to the sophistication of the room. Built-in bookcases flanked the marble fireplace, where she noted books, a collection of Van Gogh’s painted eggs, along with several framed photographs of Mitch in football gear and Mitch receiving athletic awards including MVP for last year’s season.

Her phone buzzed. Deputy Landrum. Hoping he had news, she pressed Connect.

“Ellie, this may be nothing, but I found something interesting on Kelsey’s computer.”

Her pulse jumped. “Go on.”

“Her social media is filled with photos of her and the girls you mentioned along with numerous ones of the band and their performances. She also posted pics of her piano recital last year along with the tag line #Juilliard Here I Come!”

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