Chapter 4 #4
Cynthia hiked the purse strap higher on her shoulder. “I’m sure he’s fine. I texted his brother. He’s checking on it for me.”
His brother. Jackson Stewart.
Mia swallowed, then her lips tightened.
“What’s that look for?” Cynthia asked.
She tried to smile at Cynthia through stiff lips. “What look? I’m fine.”
“That look that says you want to say something but know you shouldn’t.”
She wasn’t wrong. “It’s nothing. Jackson and I went to school together. We didn’t have a great relationship.”
Her mind was briefly mugged by images of him leaning in for a kiss.
Her face heated. Now was not the time to recall that. Bitterness swelled inside, but she held it in. While she might want to spew abuse about him and how he’d destroyed her life, Dylan thought the world of his brother. She wouldn’t tarnish that.
She had plenty of reasons to doubt Jackson’s reliability, but his care for his brother wasn’t one of them.
Even in high school, he’d talked about his baby brother with affection.
Since moving back to Renegade, Mia had only ever heard Dylan sing his brother’s praise, and Jackson had a great reputation as a paramedic.
She also knew that Dylan’s one dream in life was to live with his brother. He was supposed to have had a custody hearing over the summer. She opened her mouth to ask about it, then paused. If the hearing had happened, Jackson would be here, not Cynthia.
She shrugged it off. Merely thinking about him had thrown her.
She pushed Jackson from her mind, but it was difficult. They went in to join the rest of the team for the meeting.
“He’s a good kid,” the math teacher informed the team. “I had him for advanced algebra last year. He did his homework, paid attention in class.”
The Spanish teacher, Mrs. Goodwin, shook her head. “He wasn’t like that in my room. He didn’t like to participate. Getting him to read and write was a challenge.”
Mia broke in. “I think his dyslexia diagnosis may be the reason for that. Let’s talk about his adaptations.”
Mrs. Goodwin pursed her lips. She had been very vocal about her belief that special education made kids entitled.
“Let’s be clear. I expect all my students”—she put heavy emphasis on the word all—“to do their work. I will not coddle anyone. I believe they need to be held accountable for their behavior.”
Mia held her breath for a second before letting it out slowly. “I agree. However, we are talking about adaptations that will allow him to thrive in the regular education setting and when he graduates. We are not talking about behaviors.”
At the end of the meeting, Mia collected the draft documents. She’d implement the changes the team discussed and shred these, then see that final copies were sent out to everyone.
She glanced at her watch. Four o’clock on the nose. She wasn’t expected home until five. She could leave. It wasn’t an official workday. But her emotions were all over the place.
She’d go back to her room and work on the IEPs.
Between Crystal’s death and Dylan’s absence, however, she found it impossible to concentrate. Cynthia had tried to look unconcerned, but Mia knew her well enough to see through to her fear.
Mia threw her pen down and grabbed her phone. Cynthia had said Dylan was with Reggie. Mia knew Elaine well enough to give her a call and see if there was any more information.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she dialed the number.
“Oh, Miss Turner! Did Jackson get ahold of you?”
Mia’s stomach clenched. “N-no. I don’t think he has my number.”
“Yes, he does. I gave it to him. He’s looking for Dylan. I told him the boys went camping yesterday and haven’t come back.”
Someone had tried calling several times. She hadn’t recognized the number, and they hadn’t left a message. Could that have been Jackson?
A cold shiver trailed icy fingers down her spine. “Have you gone to the police?”
“That’s what he asked. No. I’ve been thinking about it. I think they went to stay with my ex-husband. Reggie and me, we had a fight yesterday morning. The last time that happened, he went to his dad’s.”
No matter what Mia said, Reggie’s mother refused to be concerned.
“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, Miss Turner. Anyway, I hope you don’t mind that I gave out your number. He’ll be giving you a call.”
She thanked Mrs. Dirk, then leaned against her desk, biting her bottom lip. What should she do now? She had two students missing, parents who were about as concerned with their offspring as hers had been for her, and a former love who was mixed up in this mess.
Oh yeah. Today had been a day to question her life choices.
The door to her classroom opened again, and Mia turned her head and gasped.
She stood and took a step away from the desk, increasing the distance between herself and the man standing there, staring at her. Her skin tingled, and ice filled her soul and expanded through her entire body.
She hadn’t seen him since high school. He’d become more muscular, his face harder, and his once-expressive face shuttered, but she’d know Jackson Stewart anywhere.