Chapter Twenty-One

T he next school day couldn’t arrive soon enough. With it, the sunny skies disappeared and were replaced by a gentle patter of rain and a hint of more. Gray spread across the sky and humidity thickened the air, making Olivia’s clothes stick to her. She’d hardly slept at all the night before, preparing her mind to corner Alana Fleming at the school. She and Brock decided that now would be the time to announce to the world who they were, maybe not to Mila at the cafe or anyone else, but to Alana, who hadn’t even known them. They could speak more freely with her if they identified themselves, and they needed answers. Too much pointed back to the school. She had been given an envelope on a Saturday afternoon, before rushing out of there like she hadn’t wanted to be seen. She had been speaking Dutch in a quiet room before sneaking the same man out of the school, also not wanting him to be seen. And Alasdair Crosby owned a shipping company that shipped to the Netherlands. Maybe his getting upset over Mila’s tattoo was stupid, something trivial, but for right now, there was too much smoke for there not to be any fire.

Olivia pulled into the school parking lot, not bothering to hide her car. Relying on the element of surprise, Olivia got out of the car with purpose and Brock came up beside her. “Are you ready for this?”

“Born ready.”

She and Brock took their time, crossing the parking lot in long strides until they climbed the steps to the school. Brock pulled the door open and Olivia strode into the large building. They checked in quickly with the principal, who was flabbergasted, but directed them where they needed to go.

Voices of students huddling around their lockers met her ears, but she pushed past them, heading toward the classroom where she and Brock had overheard her secret conversation with the Dutch-speaking man Monday night. Olivia peered into the classroom, delighted to see Alana standing at her desk, working on putting some things away. Other than her, the classroom was empty.

Olivia rapped on the door with the back of her knuckles. “Ms. Fleming?”

Alana looked up, a smile crested her face. “Hello”?” She put down the folder she had been arranging. “Can I help you?”

“Yes.” Olivia stepped into the room, Brock close at her heels. She flashed her badge. “I’m Special Agent Olivia Knight, this is Special Agent Brock Tanner. We’re with the FBI. We need to have a word with you.”

Alana dropped her smile, the pleasantness draining from her expression, leaving only politeness. “What can I do for you? ”

Olivia made sure to soak in every detail that she could. Human behavior and its giveaways. Alana remained composed but underneath that composure was a hint of expectancy. No surprise showed in her eyes, so was she living with the expectation that maybe someday, it would come to this? Maybe a glimmer of nervousness was added in there, as well. “The FBI, huh? That’s some pretty big stuff.” She tried for humor. It fell flat. “What’s this about?”

“May I close the door?” Olivia gestured to the classroom door. She knew firsthand how easy it was to overhear a conversation from outside the classroom.

Alana shrugged. “Sure.” She came around the side of her desk and walked toward the door, swinging it closed and sealing off the din of the students in the other room. Only when they were alone did she turn to face Olivia and Brock, shifting her weight onto one leg. “What is it?”

Her words came out clipped, as if she was ready to quickly answer and hurry them on their way. Olivia noted how she made sure she was between them and her way out, not the other way around. She had positioned herself to be closer to the door. Her smile turned polite, and she struggled to keep her voice upbeat.

Brock didn’t wait. “Do you know an Alasdair Crosby?”

Alana’s face could have been a statue for how expressionless it remained. “Yeah, I do. He owns a shipping company that operates out of Charleston, why?” She didn’t miss a beat in redirecting her questions to them. Olivia didn’t take the bait. They were the ones asking questions.

“How do you know him?”

Her lip came up in an ugly sneer that ruined the otherwise beautiful face. “You’re in Cape Fremont. Everyone knows everyone, especially the richest man in town.”

Brock took a step toward her, crowding into her space a bit. “Could it be that you know him a little better than that?”

While Brock worked his angle, Olivia observed even the tiniest detail about Alana’s behavior and expressions. Her anger threatened to resurface when she noticed the shell necklace hanging around Alana’s neck. It was almost like she was rubbing it in their faces when they still could do nothing about it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Alana rolled her eyes. “I know of him, not know him, personally. Sure we’ve bumped into each other in town now and again, but we haven’t ever said anything other than the usual polite ‘hi, bye, excuse me.’” Olivia was convinced she was either evading or outright lying. Well, if she was going to deny knowing Alasdair, then Olivia would gladly throw another curveball at her.

“Okay.” She nodded to Alana’s neck. “Where did you get that necklace?”

Guilt took over the innocent facade. It wasn’t the subtle flicker of alarm in her eyes or the flaring of her nostrils that gave it away. It was that an innocent person would be thoroughly confused and wonder what the necklace had to do with anything. Judging by the way that Alana’s fingers flew up to the necklace to touch it while keeping her eyes pinned on Olivia and Brock, she knew exactly why Olivia asked.

“Oh, this old thing? They sell them in all the tourist shops.” She lowered her hands and cupped them, raising her left one up like she was demonstrating a treasure chest. “You get the necklace and it comes with an oyster that you can open with a pearl inside. You collect the pearl inside. Each color is supposed to represent something different. Good luck, love, wealth, you know. Once you crack the oyster and retrieve the pearl, you put it in the necklace and wear it.”

A likely story that a random pearl necklace with varied colors happened to share the same orange color as the one in the picture with Melissa.

“So you got it from a gift shop?” Brock’s tone made it obvious that he didn’t believe her.

“Yeah.” Alana bit back with annoyance. “Where else would I have gotten it?” Anger brewed on her face and she twitched as if a fly had landed on her nose. “You know what? I don’t have anything to say to you.”

She wasn’t talking, but her behavior gave more away than whatever she might have said. Her nervousness had melted into anger, a common mistake for anyone being interrogated as it hinted at an underlying fear that she had been caught. Olivia wasn’t ready to let her go. Before Alana lawyered up, before she had a chance to claim her rights to remain silent, she had to bullet point her with a question.

“Ellie Cline. What happened to her?”

Her question stopped Alana in her tracks, hand frozen over the doorknob that led to the outside of her classroom. Her muscles stiffened, and she took her time turning back to face Olivia and Brock. Her stone facade was back and she refused to let any emotion show on her face. Her voice was hard, shooting angry words back at Olivia. “I don’t know. If I knew, I’d have told the authorities.”

Sure she would have. Unless, perhaps, she was the mastermind behind all of this.

“You were close with her, right?”

“I’m close with many of my students.”

“How about Melissa Downs?”

“Who?”

Brock supplied a picture, and Alana frowned as she studied it.

“I don’t know this girl. She’s obviously way too young to have been in any of my classes.”

“But surely you’d have seen her around the school, right?” Olivia pressed. “And wouldn’t it have been a concern when she stopped showing up?”

“Agents, if you’re going to accuse me of something, just come out and say it,” Alana replied. “Otherwise I have a class to get ready for.”

Her body jolted forward when a crack appeared in the door. The door hit her, pushing her forward a bit. “Oof.” Annoyance permeated her tone as she looked behind her .

Mae’s worried face appeared in the crack the door made. Alana stepped away from the door so she could swing it open wider.

“That door was closed…” Alana dripped some passive-aggressive sweetness into her tone.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Fleming! And I’m sorry I bumped you, but this is important.”

The tension thickened in the air. Alana narrowed a glare at Olivia and Brock as if to inform them just how unwelcome they were for this moment, but answered Mae. “What is it?”

“Susanna Webster didn’t show up to school today.”

Olivia felt the world tilt and the color drained from her face. No. No. Absolutely not.

Mae’s attention wavered from Alana to Olivia and Brock. Recognition showed up in bright colors on her face but instantly was replaced by confusion. Probably wondering what Olivia and Brock were doing here at the school.

Alana didn’t budge, save to move forward and set a hand on Mae’s shoulder. “What?”

Mae had the attention of all three adults in the room, probably holding Olivia’s more than anyone’s. She sniffed, words tumbling from her mouth. “I tried to call her on her phone, but she isn’t answering, and none of the texts I’ve sent her are showing as being read.”

Alana’s nonchalant shrug drove Olivia to see red. How could she be so unconcerned with a missing student when teens were known to go missing from this town? “Maybe she’s out surfing?”

Surfing? In this weather? Olivia shot a glance out of the window where the drizzle from earlier was only increasing into a full-blown thunderstorm. Lightning flickered a white light through the sky, and a rumble quickly followed it.

“No. It’s storming.” Mae confirmed her suspicions. “Susanna never surfs when it’s storming. She doesn’t want to get struck by lightning. ”

But she wasn’t at school. And she wasn’t answering her phone. Olivia slowly turned her head to collide with Brock’s gaze. Absolute horror dawned on her face as Brock met her with the same. Olivia fought to keep it together rather than coming undone on this teacher who didn’t seem to give a single care. About Ellie, about Susanna, about anyone. If she wasn’t the mastermind behind the missing teens or the teacher that Brock had suspected of being an influence in these kids’ lives, Olivia wasn’t sure who was.

Alana was back, with more sarcastic remarks. She turned to face them and nodded her head toward Mae. “There. Susanna has apparently gone missing while you two are in here wasting time, talking to me. Clearly, I couldn’t have done it. I’ve been here all morning, ask them.” She nodded her head to the hallway and, in essence, her students.

“What’s going on?” Mae’s quaking voice asked. “Why are they here?”

They didn’t owe her an answer, and Olivia barely heard her quiet question above the roaring blood pressure in her ears. She wasn’t about to waste any more time, or even any more breath with this woman. Brock stepped toward the door, taking the lead, and pointing at Alana. “Don’t go anywhere. We’ll be back.”

He pushed past her, uttering an excuse me to Mae. Olivia shot one more warning glare in Alana’s direction before she slipped from the classroom to find the missing ray of sunshine she and Brock had come to know and love. Susanna couldn’t be missing. But if they acted quickly, maybe they still had a chance at finding her.