The people of Baywood were very caring. Midwest nice. None of that helped explain a missing five-year-old. “Thanks again,” he said.
She walked out and he made a few quick calls on his cell. When he was assured that there was an officer who could take care of searching both the car and the apartment, he went to find Rena. She was still sitting in the classroom.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I don’t think we’re going to find anything in her apartment or car. Because there’s nothing there. We’re barking up the wrong tree,” Rena added.
“So, she simply had the bad luck to have a case of the ill-timed shits.”
Rena closed her eyes and leaned her head back. “Better her than us.”
“Indeed. Look, I’m going to request criminal background checks on all four teachers, Alice, the cook, Leah and Troy Whitman, and Elaine Broadstreet.”
“They’re the main players,” Rena said. “Who do you want to talk to next?”
“Let’s get contact information from Alice on all staff and all parents. Right now I’m interested in talking to the six parents who signed into Kara Wiese’s room between 6:30 and 7:30. I want to make sure that her story that she was in the room checks out.”
When they made their request, Alice said it would take her about fifteen minutes to pull the information. She said she’d have first and last names and cell numbers and home phones, if different. She might also have places of employment if they’d provided that. However, the integrity of her data depended on whether the parents had kept their information up to date.
While they were waiting, Rena’s cell phone buzzed. She glanced at it. “We have confirmation that Elaine Broadstreet’s vehicle was on Paradise, then Main, then Second Street just as she said. There’s no cameras on the corner of Second Street and Oak Avenue so we lost her there. But they pick her up again when she’s back on Second Street. Child who matches Emma’s description in a rear car seat on the way, and seat is empty when she’s back on Second Street.”
“Seems as if she might be telling the truth,” A.L. said.
“At least about getting her to the building.”
“Can I see the front office sign-in sheet again?”
Rena handed him the plastic evidence bag. “I estimated Alice’s arrival time as somewhere between 7:16 and 7:20. First signature on this form is 7:52 and second is 10:50.”
“And Alice says she signed the form but that was only after you prompted her with a question about it,” A.L. said.
“Yes. And said that of course she’d have written a time if there was a blank for the time but couldn’t remember what time she’d written.”
“We need to talk to these parents tonight,” A.L. said.
“Okay. That’s eight calls, then, that we need to make.”
Alice poked her head out of her office and handed them two sheets of the information they’d requested. “I made a copy for each of you.”
“Thank you,” Rena said.
“Alice, I have a question about the sign-in sheet that is posted by the office,” A.L. said. He showed her the plastic bag. “It’s dated with today’s date. Who wrote that?”
“Kara. She always gets the sheet ready. Does it first thing when she comes in the door.”
“Has she always had that responsibility?”
“I guess. Besides me, she’s always the first one in. She started getting the sheet ready and I guess it sort of became part of her job. At night, whoever is the last one in the building, which is usually me, is responsible for removing the sheet and putting it in my in-box.”
“Okay, thank you.”
He walked back to Classroom 1 and Rena followed.
A.L. held up the sign-in sheet. “Kara did not tell me about getting this sheet ready. Said that the first thing she did was make coffee.”
“Again, like Elaine not mentioning she signed in, perhaps it’s so routine that it doesn’t bear mentioning.”
“Maybe. Let’s split up the parents of kids in Kara Wiese’s class. I’ll take the first three, you take numbers four through six,” he said. “Then we’ll regroup before we call the two parents from the office sign-in sheet.” They set up on opposite sides of the large space.
A.L. dialed his first number. It rang twice.
“Hello.”
It was a woman. A.L. checked the name on his sheet. “Sarah Hewin?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“This is Detective McKittridge with the Baywood Police Department. I need to ask you a few questions about the Lakeside Learning Center.”
“Of course,” she said.
He wasn’t surprised that she didn’t ask why. The news would have spread quickly through the whole of Baywood, but lightning-fast through the parent group.
“Your child’s teachers are Kara Wiese and Claire Potter, correct?”
“Yes.”
“I have a sign-in sheet in front of me that indicates that you dropped Landon off at 6:42 this morning. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Was there a teacher in the room at the time?”
“Of course. Kara Wiese was there.”
“Okay, thank you. Just one more question. How did you know what time to write down?”
“Uh... I guess I looked at the clock on the wall.”
“Okay, thank you.”
His remaining two calls went about the same. Each verified that the time written on the sheet was correct and that Kara Wiese had been in the room. The only difference was how they knew the correct time. One had checked his phone and the other admitted that she’d guessed based on the time her car clock showed when she pulled into the parking lot.
He finished at about the same time Rena got through her calls. “Anything?” he asked.
“I was only able to reach two of the three. Left a message for the other one. But nothing odd with the two that I spoke with. The first one verified that Kara Wiese was the teacher in the room and the second one said that both Kara Wiese and Claire Potter were in the room.”
“What time did the parent sign in?” A.L. asked.
“7:27.”
“That makes some sense if the second teacher starts at 7:30. She might have been a few minutes early.”
“But well after Emma was dropped off,” Rena said.
A.L. looked at the classroom sign-in sheet again. “Right. The one you didn’t reach is the one who signed in closest to when Elaine Broadstreet supposedly saw Kara in the lobby.”