Hidden - Laura Griffin Page 0,32
out. I interviewed her, and it was a great fit.”
“You mentioned she didn’t have a phone at first? But then later she did?”
“I gave her one the first week. She couldn’t afford a plan, but I had to be able to get hold of her, so I got her a cheap one. She didn’t use it much, though. It was one of the reasons I hired her. Some of my colleagues have au pairs, and all they do is park the kids in front of a screen and sit on their phones all day. It’s really atrocious.”
“What about interests? Hobbies? I’m trying to get a picture.”
She smiled. “Well, she was very pretty. I’m surprised she didn’t have a guy in her life. And she was creative and energetic. Jillian adored her. She was very engaging.”
“What about education?”
She shook her head. “No college. She said her parents couldn’t afford it.”
“And are they here in town?” Bailey already knew they weren’t, but she wanted to see what Celeste said about it.
“She didn’t talk about her family much. I got the impression they were estranged.”
“Do you know where they live?”
“I don’t know. St. Louis, maybe? She said something once when we were talking about baseball.”
“Baseball?”
“She was over on a Saturday, and she wanted to watch a game. I remember, it was the Cardinals playing at Wrigley Field.” She gave a wobbly smile. “My late husband was a Cubs fan.”
“Okay, so . . . do you know what brought Dana to Austin?”
“No. But she seemed to love it here.” She looked around at the sidewalks streaming with people. “What’s not to love, right? It’s sunny all the time. Friendly. It used to be safe, too, but not anymore. Just last week one of our TAs was robbed at a gas station. She was standing right there gassing up her car, and boom, someone reached right into her car and grabbed her purse off the seat. She’s lucky she wasn’t shot.”
Bailey had written a brief on the incident, but she didn’t say anything.
“The whole thing was caught on video, but has anyone made an arrest? No. The police are too busy handing out traffic tickets.” She looked at Bailey. “Do I sound bitter? Maybe I am.”
“The city’s changed a lot.”
She took a deep breath. “But back to Dana. She loved crafts. She and Jillian painted all the time together. You should see our fridge—it’s covered with artwork. Oh, and she worked at the art museum down on the lake. Villa Paloma.”
Bailey’s ears perked up. “When did she work there?”
“Tuesdays and Thursdays after school. Come to think of it, they’d be a good source for you. She was friends with some of the other teachers there.”
“She taught art lessons?”
“That’s right. They have an after-school program for underprivileged kids. And they do camps in the summer, too. She was over there a lot.”
A heavy gong sounded, and Celeste looked over her shoulder at the clock tower.
“My class starts soon. I wish I had more time.” She dug a business card from her tote bag and handed it over. “Feel free to email me, if you have any more questions. Oh, and you said you needed a picture. I found this.” She handed over a small snapshot of Dana on a grassy lawn with a white cat in her lap. She had thick, wavy brown hair and a wide smile. Her arm was draped around someone outside the shot.
“That was taken in our backyard. Jill was in it, too, but I cropped her out, obviously.”
“Thank you. I can get this back to you.”
“Keep it. It’s a copy.”
She stood up and shouldered her leather bag. “Like I said, I almost didn’t come today. But then I read your piece about trail safety, and I appreciate what you’re trying to do. Women need to be aware.” She shook her head. “I told Dana over and over that she should jog later in the day when there’re more people around, but she didn’t listen.” She gazed out at the grassy lawn. “When I moved here ten years ago, it felt like such a small town. Now it’s like Houston or Dallas.” She looked at Bailey. “But I guess that’s everywhere, isn’t it? No place is safe.”
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
JACOB SLID INTO a no-parking zone and hooked his APD hang tag on the mirror.
I’d kill for one of these things.
He thought of Bailey in his truck last night. He’d been thinking about her all day—which was nothing new, really. He’d been thinking about her since