Page 37 of Bring Them Home

“Tell her to find Mr. Archer.”

Her daughter was still very concerned about the missing teacher. Hearing her just made it sink in more how Amanda would soon break her heart. All she knew for sure was she had to be the one to tell her about her teacher before she heard it at some assembly with everyone else. “Please tell her we’ll talk when I get home and just have her wait at the front doors for her grandmother.”

“Will do. Talk soon.” Libby ended the call.

Amanda would run away if that would solve anything. But it wouldn’t, so she’d push forward.

Lots of people were walking past and into the lounge. She stepped inside to see the room was filling up. At this rate, it was soon going to be standing-room only.

Trent was speaking with a circle of teachers, and part of her wished to leave him to it and walk off with her daughter. But there was a larger picture to consider. This wasn’t about her or even Zoe right now. The next while was about finding out as much as they could about Paul Archer in the hopes it would lead them to his killer, as well as his missing wife and daughter.

EIGHTEEN

Amanda rode in the passenger seat while Trent drove them to Manassas for the autopsy. They were running behind but shouldn’t be too late if traffic continued to cooperate. Unfortunately, none of the teachers or staff had anything insightful to offer. Either into Paul’s murder or his family’s abduction. There were lots of tears and sentiments like that poor family. Paul’s sense of humor was also mentioned several times, and it made Amanda wish she’d met the man when he was alive.

Before leaving, Amanda made a point of speaking with Libby. Like the rest of them, Libby only had praise for Paul. Great teacher, great father, great man… One vanilla adjective to sum up a life.

“You all right over there? You’re quiet.” Trent turned to look at her.

“I’m fine, Trent.”

“You’re not, but that’s okay. No one would be in your place.”

“I let my daughter get a ride home with my mother, today of all days. I was right there at her school even.”

“You were working. We needed to talk to those teachers.”

“Though, little good that did us.” The words held far more heat than she intended. But she was pissed off at herself. Why did it feel like she was always letting her little girl down?

“We didn’t know that going in. Besides, Zoe knows your job is important.”

She swore Trent could read her mind sometimes. Zoe’s words resurfaced, Find Mr. Archer… “I still feel like utter shit.”

“That’s because you’re a good mom.”

“I’m not feeling like one at the moment.” She clamped her mouth shut when she heard how sulky she sounded.

“Which I could argue is proof that you are. Only the best moms suffer from self-doubt. It’s just a thing.”

She smiled and met his gaze. “A thing, huh?”

“Yep.”

She’d question how he could make that judgment, but she’d rather be comforted by his words. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Why? Because I’m not going to let you dump on yourself? If so, then, yes, I’m impossible. Self-chastisement is a waste of energy. Same as worry.”

She could certainly think of a better way to spend it. Like finding a killer and bringing a girl and her mother home. “I will give you that.”

“Good. Now let’s hope Rideout finds something that will shed more light on all of this.”

“And dare we wish he’ll give us the ultimate gift—something to lead us to the killer.”

“Oh, I love the complete one-eighty.”

She smirked and shook her head.

Half an hour later, Amanda and Trent were signed in and walking into the morgue. Rideout paused what he was doing and waved at them with marked enthusiasm. The reception stood out in such contrast to the dead body on the metal slab in front of him. He was ready to go, wearing a scrub suit, protective boots, and gloves. A face shield was on his head, lifted up and on standby.