A Soldier's Promise

“Besides the center being a meeting place for teens, we’re going to offer special classes,” Brenna said. “Drama, music, other courses that have been eliminated due to budget cuts.”

“Classes?” the girl asked. “Over and above having classes in school?”

Okay, maybe that sounded lame, but Brenna knew several students who would take advantage of enrichment courses. “There will be activities, too,” she explained to Carrie. “Movies, dances, games, a whole range of choices.”

Carrie didn’t comment on the center, but halfway through the cheesy casserole, Brenna saw the girl smile for the first time.

“This is really good,” the girl said. “Thanks for fixing it.”

“You’re welcome. We make this in class, you know. About midway through the semester.”

“That’ll be cool.”

Brenna carried her plate to the sink and looked over her backyard. The sun was setting, turning the trees on the other side of the river to gold. “It’s late,” she said. “Maybe you’d better call your father and tell him to pick you up.”

“He’s not worried about me.”

“Well, regardless, you can’t walk home in the dark. It’s a long way to the mill.”

“I’ll be okay. I take care of myself.”

Brenna took her seat on the other side of the table and stared at Carrie for a moment. The girl looked down and forked her leftover noodles around the plate. “Is there something you’d like to tell me, Carrie?” Brenna asked, hoping the girl wasn’t harboring a big secret, the kind that had led to heartbreaking decisions once before. She swallowed, knowing she could have opened the door to something she didn’t really want to hear. “Is everything all right at home?”

Brenna held her breath. Please just let this be a case of a new kid in town who’s experiencing some loneliness.

Carrie mumbled into her lap. “It’s that obvious?”

Oh, boy. “Is someone treating you badly?” Brenna asked.

Carrie swallowed hard. She didn’t answer the question.

Brenna leaned over the table but resisted the instinct to place her hand over the girl’s. “Has someone hurt you, Carrie?”

Still no answer. Carrie didn’t look up.

“Because if so, there are people who can help. But you need to tell someone...”

She never finished giving advice because movement in front of her house caught her eye. Through her open door she saw a police cruiser pull to the curb. Carrie gasped and stood up.

“This is about you, isn’t it?” Brenna said.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I didn’t mean to be any trouble. I’ll just go out the back...”

“No, you won’t. You’re coming with me.”

Like a prisoner being led to the gallows, Carrie walked ahead of Brenna to the living room. She sat in a chair out of sight of the front door. Brenna opened the screen to police officers she knew well. “Hi, Boone, Lila. What’s going on?”

“We’ve had a missing-kid report, Bren,” Boone said. “She’s one of your students and we’re following every lead.” He took out a photo and showed it to Brenna. “This is the girl.”

A sweet face surrounded by a tumble of black curls smiled at Brenna from a typical school photo.

“Her name’s Carolyn Langston,” Lila Menendez said. “Her father’s about ready to tear the town apart.”

Brenna opened the door wider. “Come on in.”

The officers walked to the middle of the room and stared at Carrie. “You’re her, all right,” Boone said. He pressed a button on a device on his shoulder. “Located the girl. She’s at...” He waited for Brenna to give him her exact address and repeated it.

“How’d she end up here, Brenna?” he asked.

She briefly explained how she’d found Carrie on her porch. “Can we talk outside?” she asked the officer.

“Sure.” Boone spoke to his partner. “Lila, you stay here with the kid. Make sure she doesn’t go anywhere.”

The young police officer crouched beside Carrie. In a soft voice she said, “Are you okay, honey?”

Carrie nodded and Brenna led Boone to the end of the porch, where their voices wouldn’t carry to the interior of the house. “I think this kid’s in trouble,” Brenna said. “I’m suspecting some kind of abuse.”

“Did you see any injuries?”

“No, but she’s very unhappy. She doesn’t want to go home.”

“Well, Brenna, that describes a bunch of teenagers. Even me a few years ago.”

“That may be, but this girl’s reaching out for help. I think you need to notify someone in authority.”

“I’ll talk to the chief about it. But right now I’ve just got to return this kid to her father. He’s probably on his way over here to pick her up. He seemed plenty worried to me.”

Yeah, and I wonder why. Was the father afraid the kid would tell on him? “You won’t let her go if you think something’s not right, will you, Boone?”

“I’ll check it out, Brenna.” He pointed to the street, where a blue pickup was screeching to a halt behind the cruiser. “There’s the dad now. I’ll explain things to him, tell him the kid came here of her own accord. We don’t want him holding you responsible.”

“I don’t care about that,” Brenna said. “I’m just concerned about Carrie.”

The driver’s door swung open and a man in a beige jumpsuit stepped to the asphalt.

“Hey, I know that guy,” Brenna said. She stared at the man of few words, Mike the mechanic, as he strode purposely up the walk to her door.

CHAPTER TWO

“WHERE’S MY DAUGHTER?” The words shot from Mike’s mouth like blasts from a pistol. He headed straight for the front porch, looking neither right nor left.

Boone stepped in front of him and put his hand on Mike’s chest. “Hold on a minute, buddy. Let’s all calm down.”

Mike evaded the officer with a defiant maneuver. “Calm down? Are you kidding? Is Carrie in this house or not?”

“Yes, she’s in there. And she’s fine.”

He released a pent-up breath, and his shoulders relaxed slightly. “Okay.” Then he glanced around, seeming to take in the darkness that had settled over Brenna’s shrubs, the unfamiliarity of his surroundings and, finally, Brenna. “I know you,” he said. “You’re the silver Mazda.”