report cards and standardized test results, all of which tend to be above average, as I said. I think Danny’s old school worried more about what they didn’t know about Danny than what they were able to document.”
I thanked Mrs. Travis for her time and walked into the hallway. I had the overwhelming urge to peek into Danny’s classroom, just to make sure he was okay. I started to turn back to ask the secretary for permission then decided just to find my way.
The teachers’ names hung on the wall above their classroom numbers in the hallway. I walked down one hall without finding Mr. Mathews’ name. In the next, his door was second on the right. It was closed.
I sidled closer until I could see inside through the three-inch-wide window beginning a foot above the door handle.
Danny’s desk was in the third row, between two other boys. Danny was reading a book, as was the rest of the class. He looked …
absorbed. I guessed that was the best we could hope for on his first day.
Inside the room, a man moved past the door. I jerked away from the door and speed walked around the corner, hoping no one had spotted me. I didn’t know if a twelve-year-old would appreciate his “mother” looking in on him or not. I was quite sure he wouldn’t appreciate having his teacher whip open the classroom door and catch me in the act.
In the school parking lot, I used my cell phone to call Ray.
“Hey, Darlin’. How’d it go with the principal?”
“Okay. She said Danny’s old teachers suspected him of stealing from his classmates.”
“I heard when I picked up his file.”
“What else did you hear that you neglected to tell me, Ray?”
“I heard he was a good student, and his father was attentive.”
“Did you hear that the school wasn’t sure his father could read?”
“No.”
“Maybe he’s a thief because his prospects are limited.”
“That’s no excuse.”
“What’s the penalty for stealing a Cadillac Escalade?”
“He’s been charged with grand larceny in the fourth degree. That’s a Class E felony. For first offenders, the maximum sentence is four years in a state prison.”
I watched as a woman pulled into the space next to mine and hustled into the school carrying a tray of cupcakes. Would that be me one day? “Is his father a first offender?”
“He’s been in prison for armed robbery, when he was seventeen. He served nine years.”
“So he’s prone to violence.”
“His partner in crime pulled the gun. Even the bank clerk testified that Danny’s father seemed surprised.”
I felt some relief. “Is prison where his neck got sliced?”
“Yes.”
“Stealing cars seems like a step down from armed robbery.”
“Auto theft is a multimillion dollar business, Jolene. It’s the most expensive property crime in the U.S. More than a million cars are stolen every year, dismantled in chop shops and the stolen parts sold. Nationwide, only a little over ten percent of those thefts are cleared by arrest.”
Like he was telling me something I didn’t already know. “But why is Danny’s father stealing cars here in Wachobe? Most of New York’s auto thefts occur in the New York City area.”
“We think he planned to put the Escalade in a semi bound for the city.”
But instead, he got caught sitting behind the driver’s wheel, and now he faced more time in prison. Would Danny want to visit him there, too? If his father let him, Ray would have to take him to visit. The county jail already gave me the creeps. I couldn’t take a state prison. But surely Danny had to have other relatives.
“Principal Travis also told me Danny’s mother died when he was two, or at least, that’s what his father implied to his kindergarten teacher.”
“I can try asking his father again. He’s smart enough to take his right to remain silent seriously.”
Just our luck that criminals are getting smarter. “Doesn’t he have any other relatives?”
“Not that I’ve heard.”
“Mrs. Travis said the birth certificate listed the same Newark address for both of Danny’s parents. Do you think they might have family still living there?”
“Newark?”
I detected more than a hint of interest in Ray’s voice. “Yes, Newark. What about it?”
“The Escalade was reported stolen by a woman who gave a home address in Newark.”
“What was her name?”
“Hold on a minute.”
I heard Ray’s fingers clicking on the keyboard. “Her name’s James. Jessica James.”
Now we were getting lucky. Any chance she was related to Danny’s mother, Jennifer James?
When I mentioned it to Ray, he hung up on me so fast that