“I need you to answer out loud, Violet, you understand?”
Again Violet nods and I slide my arm around her shoulders. “Yes,” she says and then, “Yes, we went there.”
“Was it just the two of you?”
“And Jordyn. Jordyn came, too.” I look at Officer Grady in alarm but he coolly jots down what Violet is saying. There was no sign of Jordyn at the train yard. Was she hurt, too? Was she taken?
“Do you know where Jordyn went?” he asks and I’m relieved he at least asked the question. “She wasn’t there when we found you and Cora.”
Violet gnaws at her lower lip. “I don’t know. She was there with us and then she wasn’t.”
“You and Jordyn were spending the night at the Landry house?”
“Yes.”
“How did you get to the train yard?”
“We walked,” Violet says and then peeks sheepishly up at me. She knows she’s supposed to ask me before she ever goes anywhere. I’ve learned the hard way with Max and am trying to set firm rules with Violet. My fingers itch to look at my phone to see if Max has checked in but I don’t want to interrupt now that Violet’s talking.
“The train yard is how far from Cora’s house? A mile and a half or two?” Officer Grady asks. Violet shrugs and he moves on. “What time did you leave?”
“Around midnight,” she says without hesitation.
“Midnight?” I ask, unable to stop myself. “Why in the world would you three be roaming around town in the middle of the night?” I feel Violet go rigid next to me.
Officer Grady reaches over and pats Violet’s knee. “Hold tight, will you, Violet? I’m going to talk to your mom out in the hall for a sec. You’re doing great.” Officer Grady stands and I slide out of my spot next to Violet and follow him into the hallway.
Once out of earshot Officer Grady turns on me. “The agreement was I ask the questions and you listen, right? How am I going to find out what happened if you keep interrupting?” A red flush creeps up his fleshy neck and I realize he’s right. I need to shut up. He’s trying to get all the information he can so he can catch the bastard and I’m stuck on Violet sneaking out in the middle of the night.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’ll be quiet.”
“You know what would be even better?” he asks. “If you would let me finish interviewing her without you in the room. Kids talk more if the parents aren’t listening in.”
Again I know he’s right. “Fine. I’ll wait out here but you’ll come and get me right away if she asks for me, right?”
“Sure thing,” he agrees, steps back into the room and closes the door before I can change my mind.
I try to listen through the doorway but all I can hear is the low murmur of voices. I give up and check my phone for messages from Max. Nothing. I send Max a text telling him that his sister is in the hospital and he needs to call right now. Just as I hit Send I recognize Cora Landry’s parents walking down the long corridor. I rush to catch up with them. “Mara,” I call.
I can’t remember her husband’s name, just know that he manages a place that sells farm equipment. Mara’s eyes are red and swollen from crying and her blond hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail. Like me, she appears to have dressed in a hurry. Normally polished and put together, this morning she wears an oversize sweatshirt, paint-speckled yoga pants and a pair of moccasins. “Mara,” I say, her name catching in my throat. “I can’t believe this happened! How’s Cora doing?”
She presses a tissue to her red-tipped nose with shaky fingers. “She was stabbed. In the face and here.” With shaky fingers she indicates a spot just below her ribs. Mara’s face crumples and she leans into her husband.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, swallowing back my own tears. “Was Cora able to say what happened?”
Mara’s husband shakes his head. “No. She wasn’t in any condition to talk to the police. But the witness said she saw a car with three people inside just before she found Cora.”
“This is my husband, Jim,” Mara says, remembering her manners even in her distraught state. “This is Beth, Violet’s mom.”
I’m embarrassed that I don’t know the Landrys better. My shift at the gas station usually ends at five and Violet spends nearly every day after school