Reckless

Part 3

"Are you sure you found Sarah?" Evie Cantrell said as she sat down at her desk.

Tom looked at the picture in his hand. "Her parents positively identified the body earlier."

The woman shook her head sadly. "They're good people. I can't believe this is happening to them." The woman took off her glasses and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. "And Sarah was a good girl."

"How well did you know her?" Cassy asked.

"I watched her grow up. I was the principal at her elementary school. I took the job as the principal here at the high school this year. This was Sarah's first year here also."

"What can you tell us about her, about her friends and any others she hung around with?" Tom handed the woman the list Sarah's parents had provided. "Mr. and Mrs. Barbara said these were her closest friends."

The woman scrutinized the names on the list, nodding periodically. "Yes. This looks right." She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. "Most of these kids are involved in our Theatre Department. That was the group she associated with the most. Sarah had high hopes of becoming a professional actress someday. She had already won a major role in the school musical, as well as some minor Civic Theatre roles."

"We would like to speak with the kids on that list about Sarah, if we could."

The woman shook her head. "Not yet, please. These children don't know what's happened. They only know that Sarah disappeared. They think she's run off to Hollywood or New York. If they find out what happened to her. . ." the woman's voice trailed off.

"Mrs. Cantrell, I'm sorry, but we really need to speak with her friends to find out what happened," Cassy gently insisted.

"Could you give me until the end of the day. I would like to tell them what happened myself and I'd like to have the school counselor sit in with me in case there are any problems."

Cassy glanced at Tom, who nodded his agreement. "Okay," she answered. "We'll come back when school's out today. That would be. . .?"

"Three-thirty. Let's meet here in my office. Oh, and if you don't mind, I'm going to try calling their parents. I'm afraid that this will shake her friends up badly. They may need that extra support tonight." The woman stood and extended her hand. "I appreciate your consideration in this."

The two officers left the office. Walking down the long hallway to the exit, Tom took in the scenery. Homecoming posters were taped on every wall. Trophies and other awards were displayed proudly in glass cases. He remembered his own high school days, where his biggest crisis was getting up the nerve to ask Ginny Wheatley to the school dance. "We shouldn't have to be doing this," he whispered. "Kids shouldn't have to hear the things that these kids are going to hear today."

Cassy bit her lip. "I know. And Sarah should have never had to experience what happened to her."

Tom said nothing in reply. He didn't have to. Cassy already knew that her partner was as determined as she was to find this murderer.

"So what did you find out?" Harry Lipschitz said to the detective team as they entered the bullpen.

"That Sarah Barbara was a nice girl. . .at least that's what the adults who knew her think." Tom answered as he plopped down in his chair.

Cassy crossed to her desk and sat, feeling very tired. Harry looked at the two skeptically. "So you have no leads?"

"None," Cassy responded. "We're going back to the school later to talk with her friends, but other than that, nothing else has panned out."

"What about the photographer?"

"Gwen Moore?" Tom clarified. "She was very straightforward with us. Doesn't appear to be holding back anything. She says that Sarah never came to her after the first meeting."

Harry shook his head, frowning. "Nah. . .I don’t buy it. I've worked a lot of cases like this during my days in New York. My experience is that the first place a kid who's star struck goes when she has the chance is to the person who can give her a big break. If the Barbaras are right, Sarah thought that someone was this photographer."

Tom shook his head. "Well that's wonderful, Skipper, but we don't have a shred of evidence to support the theory."

Harry dipped his head down and glared at Tom over the top of the rim of his glasses. "Then find that evidence, Sergeant." Harry turned abruptly and entered his office, closing the door behind him.

Tom looked at Cassy with a slight hint of shock in his eyes. "What's got into him."

Cassy shrugged. "Guess we're not the only ones who are upset about what happened to that girl."

"Guess not." Tom leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk. "So shall we attempt to prove our illustrious leader's theory and look into Ms. Moore's background?"

Cassy glanced at her watch. "We have a couple of hours to kill. Why not? He just might be right."

Tom dreaded knocking on the office door. Cassy knew this was the last place in the city he wanted to be. However, if they wanted information on Gwen Moore, especially information that couldn't be found anywhere else, this was the only place to go.

"You do it," he muttered to his partner.

The petite blond looked up at her ex-husband and gave him her best look of innocence. "What's wrong, Thomas?"

"You know. . ."

"What? Are you scared?"

Tom glanced at the name on the office door and swallowed deeply. "In a word. . .yes."

Cassy grinned and opened the door, whispering as she did, "You big chicken."

She entered the room, hearing Tom shuffle in behind her. "Marnie, Tom needs some help from you."

The rotund woman looked up and made immediate eye contact with Tom. He spotted an instant look of passion. . .no, sex . . .in her eyes. "Oh?" she answered in her most lewd tone.

Tom shot a cross look at his partner and then corrected, "*We* need some information, Marnie."

"Oh," the woman replied flatly. "What type of information are you needing?"

"Information we can't get anywhere else," Cassy answered.

"You know, I may have to start charging for this kind of assistance," the woman directed her gaze at Tom and winked. "I'm sure we could negotiate a proper fee."

Tom averted his eyes, pretending like he didn't understand her reference and looked at his partner. "We need information on a Gwen Moore. She's a photographer here in town."

"I doubt that," the woman replied factually.

Tom crinkled his forehead in confusion. "Yes she is. . .we were at her studio earlier today."

"I know," Marnie answered. "She may own the studio, but I doubt she's the photographer."

"How did you. . .?" Tom started to ask.

Marnie cut him off. "Know?" she completed. "I always know where you are, Tom." Cassy couldn't help but giggle at the look of utter horror on her partner's face. Marnie continued, ignoring the detective. "I ran Gwen Moore through the computer earlier. She owns the studio, but she has a photographer on staff. In fact, this guy has been with her for over three months now."

"How did you. . .?" Tom stumbled again.

"Know?" Marnie completed for a second time. "State employment records."

"So do you have a name for this photographer?" Cassy asked the woman.

"Martin Ayres," she answered succinctly.

"Well, Thomas, what do you say about us questioning Mr. Ayres? Perhaps he knows something that his employer doesn't," Cassy suggested.

"Uh. . .yeah. Good idea." Tom turned for the door, wanting nothing more than to get away from the odd woman at the desk.

"Oh, Thomas?" Marnie said to the cop as he exited the room. "Remember, I always know."

Cassy broke out in laughter for a second time as Tom rushed out of the room in a panic.

End Part 3