The Innocent

“Did you ever take the class on field trips or outings of any kind?”

“Not yet. The school year has barely gotten under way.” She frowned, glancing at Abby. “I don’t understand where all these questions are leading.”

“I’m trying to establish when and where Emily and Sara Beth may have come into contact with some of the same people, other than at school,” Sam explained.

Vickie made a helpless gesture with her hand. “They live in a small town. They come into contact with the same people all the time. Everyone does. Besides, shouldn’t you be asking their parents these questions?”

“Oh, I will,” Sam said. “You can count on that. But in the meantime, I’m sure you want to do everything you can to find both Emily and Sara Beth.”

The subtle inference that she might desire otherwise took both Abby and Vickie aback. But where Abby managed to keep her expression neutral, Vickie’s face turned quite pale. “I would do anything for those children,” she said passionately, almost angrily. “Anything.”

Sam nodded. “Good. Then just a few more questions…”

As he continued, Abby’s gaze traveled over the apartment. The living room was neat and compact, like Vickie herself, but the furnishings were eclectic—contemporary bookcases intermixed with antique tables and fringed lampshades—suggesting a more complex personality.

On the end table beside Abby were several framed photographs. One was of an older couple who, judging by the resemblance, were Vickie’s parents or grandparents, and another photo had captured a teenage Vickie in the arms of a handsome young man. She and the boy looked to be about sixteen or seventeen in the picture and very much in love. The backdrop was a wooden building with a crescent moon cut out near the roof.

Something about the picture touched a glimmer of recognition in Abby. A fleeting memory that was gone before it had ever clearly formed. She frowned at the photo—

“Sergeant Cross? Anything you want to add?”

She turned to find Sam’s curious gaze on her. “No, I think we’ve taken enough of Miss Wilder’s time this evening.” Abby stood. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

Vickie walked them to the door. “I meant what I said. I would do anything for those children. For any of my students. The thought of someone hurting them—” She broke off, her eyes filling with tears behind her glasses.

“I understand that you indicated after Emily’s abduction you would be willing to take a polygraph,” Sam said at the door. He turned back to face her. “Are you still willing?”

She had a tissue to her eyes, and she took a moment to dab away the tears before answering. When she glanced up at Sam, her gaze was still very bright. “Does this mean you consider me a suspect?”

“Everyone in this town is a suspect, Miss Wilder. Would you still be willing to take a polygraph?” he pressed.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “But I think it would be in my best interest to consult with an attorney first.”

“THIS IS THE FIRST TIME she mentioned anything about an attorney,” Abby said as they drove back to the sheriff’s station. The whole interview had left her oddly disturbed. After Emily’s disappearance, Abby had been so certain they could write off Vickie Wilder as a suspect. The woman had been shattered by the abduction.