Dark Guardian (Black Hoods MC #3) - Avelyn Paige Page 0,12

This stadium is proof enough of that. If you could find a different state with more expansive football fields at the high school level, I’d be surprised.

A gray-haired woman stands outside of the main entrance of the school, nervously tapping her foot as I approach. Her eyes latch onto me almost immediately.

“Miss Halfpenny?” she inquires with a noticeable tremble in her voice. “I’m Ms. Pyle. We spoke on the phone earlier. I thought it would be best if I met you outside.”

“You can call me Grace.” I reach out to shake her hand, but she ignores it. Instead, she waves her petite one to the heavy metal doors and swipes the badge swinging from a lanyard on her chest against the reader. It beeps, and the lock clicks free. Opening the door, she beckons me inside.

“Follow me to my office. I just received the information you requested from their registration paperwork after we spoke.”

She leads me to the back of the main office, just off the entrance, where the brick facade continues inside of the school. The worn tile floor desperately needs a good scrubbing. Once in the office, I spy several offices and one large receiving area, which is empty. Toward the back of the main area lies a much larger office. When we enter it, I find a younger woman seated in a chair across from the desk.

“This is Miss Crabtree. She was here when Kevin and Natalie were enrolled.” Miss Crabtree smiles and extends her hand out to greet me with a limp shake. “Please, take a seat.”

Settling into the open seat next to Miss Crabtree, I open up my case file on my lap and retrieve the images I had found from the other two cases and my tape recorder. Both of the women eye it suspiciously.

“Is that necessary?” Miss Crabtree questions.

“In child investigations, I’m required by law to record all conversations with the children. If you both consent, I’d like to also record your observations should I need additional evidence to get a court order if I deem it necessary.”

“Of course,” the superintendent agrees. “Miss Crabtree?”

“I suppose that’s all right.”

Setting the recorder down on the desk in front of me, I click the record button. “Case number 204678. Natalie and Kevin Tucker. Interview with school staff.” I look up at the women. “I have two photographs I’d like to show you.” Handing over the two images to Miss Crabtree, I allow her a few seconds to study them. “Do you recognize these children?” A part of me hopes these aren’t the same kids, but the flash of recognition in her eyes douses that hope.

“She looks like the girl. A little younger, maybe, but she’s got the same dark hair and sad eyes.”

“And the boy?”

“I mean, he could be the same boy, but I’m not sure.” She peers at it closely, but shakes her head. “Are these the Tucker kids?”

It’s not implausible that Kevin had changed in the years since these photos were taken, but the resemblance of the girl means that, unfortunately, they’re more than likely the same two kids who’ve already been in the system. A shame, really. The hope that their lives had improved for the better since their last stint in foster care is heartbreaking.

“I was hoping I was wrong, but I believe they are. What can you tell me about the man who came with them on registration day?”

Pulling out a pad of paper and a pen from my briefcase, I place them both on top of the file on my lap.

“He was older,” she remarks. “I guess late forties? Big beard.” Her hands begin at her chin and move downward. “About to here, I think.”

I jot down her observations. “Is there anything else you can tell me about him?”

“He was very rude when I called him about the enrollment paperwork and their previous records. Even more so when he came into the office about the matter.”

“Could you go a little more into detail about that?”

“I believe he said, and I apologize for the language, ‘Since when the fuck do you have to have shot records for kids?’ He fought with me for several minutes before he said he’d bring me the paperwork later. He left after that.”

“And did he provide that paperwork?” Records like this could be crucial in retracing the steps of both kids. We’d have more avenues of information gathering to pursue, at least. The principal clears her throat, and we both shift to look in her direction.

“When