Storm Lines by Jessica L. Webb

Author:Jessica L. Webb [Webb, Jessica L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781635556278
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2020-06-20T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Marley pressed the phone more closely to her ear and tried to block out the sound of conversation around her. Annoyance crept up the back of her neck as she strained to hear.

“I’m sorry,” Marley said. “It’s a busy office.”

The elementary school principal on the other end of the line, Priya Anand, laughed. “My office is regularly filled with crying four-year-olds, so I have some idea what you’re dealing with.”

Marley had spent the morning tracking down the principal of St. Agatha’s school in Windsor, Ontario. Not an easy feat given it was three hours away and school was out for the summer. But she’d connected through the school district’s main office, faxed the appropriate paperwork to confirm, and was thrilled when the principal called her back within a few hours, rather than the days the mildly grumpy office administrator had warned her about.

“I appreciate you taking the time to connect with me today. I know you’re on your summer vacation.”

“It’s not a problem,” Priya said. “The paperwork said you wanted to talk about a former student, Aimee West?”

“Yes. What can you tell me about her?”

“Not a whole lot, I’m afraid,” Priya said. “She was a student with us from November until mid-April, when her father said he was moving to Hamilton for work.”

“Did you meet Randolph West?”

“Only once, when he came in to register his daughter.”

“And what kind of student was Aimee? I know she had a good connection to Miss K?”

Priya laughed. “Yes, Eva Karagalis. She really took Aimee under her wing, knowing it’s hard to start at a school partway through. Aimee was hesitant when she started with us, very careful, and very quiet. But it didn’t take much effort to see she was a bright star. As Miss K said, once Aimee started talking, you were never going to get the genie back in the bottle. She encouraged it, though. Aimee thrived when her curiosity was fed and she was given an opportunity to use her voice.”

Marley stared at the jot notes she was taking, trying to process what she was hearing. “Aimee talked while she was at St. Agatha’s?”

“Yes,” Priya said, seeming confused. Then she seemed to hesitate. “You sound surprised, Constable Marlowe.”

“Aimee hasn’t spoken since April,” Marley said, trying to keep her intonation professional and factual.

“I see.”

“There was no indication of trauma or illness or mutism when Aimee attended your school?”

“No, nothing like that.”

Marley cleared her throat, needing to shift gears. “Is there anything else you can think of that you might want to tell me about Aimee or her father?”

Priya took a moment with the question. “We have a pretty high-needs population around here, a lot of families dealing with poverty, new Canadians, families in transit. Other than Aimee’s obvious intelligence and love of school, her story didn’t seem that different, I’m afraid.”

“That’s okay, you’ve been very helpful today.”

“Did you want to speak to Miss K? She could tell you more about Aimee’s day-to-day.”

“I have everything I need right now, but if you

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