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I didn’t think they would ever find out who tried taking my daughter. And at this point, I didn’t think they were trying hard enough.
I said nothing to Kokou about it.
The next morning, with her driving, we dropped Kennedy off at school with Nova Shuman watching over her for the day while Kokou drove me toward the station. She was no impressed that I hadn’t told her about the call from the detective.
“I don’t have to tell you everything.” I informed her. “This was before you got here.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little weird that after they went for the teacher, they want to speak with you?”
“Why should it be weird? This woman had dealings with my child!”
“I’m not going to argue with you.” Kokou snapped. “You’re giving me a fucking migraine.”
At the station I unbuckled my seatbelt, climbed from the vehicle, and jogged up the front steps and into the building. The anger raging through me pulsed behind my eyes in the form of a tension headache and I just wanted to scream.
Still, I stopped at the front desk to ask for Detective Alexander, then followed the instructions to the man’s office. When I was seated in front of his desk, I took no effort to hide the fact I’d rather be anywhere else but there.
I needed him to see that I wasn’t in the need for any bullshit.
“I wanted to inform you that we found your daughter’s missing teacher.” Detective Alexander told me, his eyes glued to my face.
“What does that have to do with me?” I crossed my legs and laced my fingers on my lap. “My issue is an attempted kidnapper, not a teacher.”
“You feel nothing to know she’s dead?”
“What did you expect me to feel?” I sighed in a bored tone. “She taught my daughter for a bout a year—I know nothing about her other than that.”
He tilted his head. “You don’t find it suspicious that someone tried kidnapping your daughter then her teacher winds up dead?”
“That’s your job.” I stressed. “You be suspicious. My job is to protect my daughter and make sure she’s fine.”
“She was found with signs of torture.” He continued. “As if someone was trying to get information from her. What do you say to that?”
I blinked at him.
“Nothing?”
“Wait.” I uncrossed my legs and leaned forward to meet his gaze. “You invited me down here, to accuse me of torturing a person I barely know and killing her—why?”
“I don’t know.” Detective Alexander eased back as if he had the upper hand. “Maybe you thought if you put her through a little pain, she’d all of a sudden remember who the person was who walked into the school for your kid.”
I closed my eyes and massaged my temples. The rage was worse, and the migraine had gotten so bad, I was beginning to see double.
“You’re wasting my time. If you have anything else to say to me, say it to my lawyer.” I stood and turned for the door then stopped. “On second thought, I don’t want to waste money for a lawyer for this bullshit. I didn’t kill anyone which means now, you’re going to have to get off your ass and do the work my tax dollars are paying you for. See how that works?”
“What are you accusing me of?”
“Nothing—yet.”
When I stepped through the door, I slammed it hard behind me. The other cops around the space turned to stare but I didn’t give a damn. The air outside the station didn’t help the pain I was in or the anger. It was a dry heat by that time of the day—the kind I hated the worse and all I wanted to do was go home and dive into the pool.
But first I had to deal with the awkward silence on the ride back to the house between myself and Kokou. I didn’t like it. The few times we were in the vehicle together, we talked about things. Mostly, I would be asking questions and her trying to answer them in as few words as possible.
“What happened in there?” Kokou wanted to know.
“He wanted to know if I tortured and murdered Sherine Cross.” I muttered irritably.
“Say what, now?”
