That got her attention. The glasses were removed, set on the desk. “Are you with HPD?”
“No.”
Before he could announce that he was with the governor’s task force, she nodded as though it didn’t matter. A badge apparently got your needs met. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad.
She hit a button on her phone, then spoke softly. A few minutes later, an older woman stepped out of an office, her eyes narrowed on him from behind a pair of thin-rim glasses. Hers were sitting properly on her face.
“I’m Principal Rasher,” she announced, offering a hand. “How can I help you?”
Producing his badge once more, Brantley introduced himself, told her the reason for his visit. As soon as he mentioned Tanner’s name, her attention shifted.
“We’ve been worried,” she said softly. “Please. Let’s go into my office.”
“I take it Tanner’s not one to miss school?”
“Never.” Her eyes scanned his face as though she was gauging what to say. She clearly decided he was on the up-and-up, because she said, “We can’t get his parents to attend a single parent-teacher conference, but he’s here every day. Perfect attendance last year, and so far this year, in fact.”
“Seems like a big school. You on a first-name basis with all your students?”
Principal Rasher eased down into her chair. “I wish. But Tanner is one of those we keep an eye on. Not because he causes any trouble, mind you. He’s a good kid.”
Brantley took a seat across from her.
“A-B honor roll, perfect attendance.”
“What got him on your radar?”
“Financial concerns.” She clasped her hands on top of the desk, sat up straight. “Tanner never has school supplies or lunch money. He’s been wearing the same tattered clothing for the past two years. We’ve got other students like him and we do our best to provide as much as we can.”
Brantley remembered how Tanner’s mother had been playing on her tablet, his father perched in front of the TV with an Xbox controller in his hand. If either of them had a job, or even bothered to look for one, he’d be shocked.
“Does he have any friends? Anyone I could talk to?” he suggested.
She nodded. “He’s got a few friends he hangs out with regularly, but you should speak with Reggie. Reggie Dunbar. They’re inseparable when they’re not in class. He’s the only person I know Tanner to really talk to.”
“Would you mind callin’ Reggie in? I’m hopin’ he might know something.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Who are you with again?”
“OTB,” he said, trying the name on for size. “My task force assists law enforcement on missing persons cases. Detective Gallegos called us in to consult.”
Her eyes softened with recognition when he mentioned the detective. She nodded, then picked up her phone, relayed a message, he assumed to the woman in the main office, to pull Reggie out of class so they could speak to him.
When she offered Brantley something to drink, he politely declined and waited patiently for Tanner’s friend to arrive. He hoped like hell they got a lead from the kid. It would make his day a hell of a lot better. If not, they’d be back at Tanner’s house, knocking on his neighbor’s doors.
He hoped that was a last resort.
***“You know if you do your business out here, we’re gonna be the laughin’ stock of the school,” Reese told Tesha as they wandered the grassy area on the far side of the parking lot. “But hey, you do your thang; I’ll worry about anyone who picks on us.”
Yeah, Reese was aware he was talking to the dog as though they’d known each other for longer than a minute. Probably helped that Tesha was looking up at him with those big brown eyes. There was something in those eyes, something that reminded him a lot of when he looked into Brantley’s eyes. Or his own in the mirror. The three of them had been through a lot, and most of what they’d endured they kept to themselves. It seemed safer that way, Reese knew. All the trauma was better left scarring the inside rather than an open, gaping wound on the outside.
“We’re survivors, the three of us,” he said softly. “Stronger together.”
His attention shifted to the school and he wondered if Brantley was making any progress. He’d been inside for nearly an hour. Hopefully he’d learned something that might give them an idea of where Tanner might be. He prayed like hell the boy had simply run away from home, found someone who gave two shits about him. God knew his parents weren’t winning any awards. Not unless there was one for chain smoking and beer chugging.
“I should probably feel bad that I stole you outta their yard,” he told Tesha. “I don’t. Not even a little. Fuck them. They can hardly take care of themselves.”
