Chapter 28
Saturday morning
The substitute teacher, Ellen Adams, took a little more digging than the others. Substitutes didn’t leave much of a trail. They had no office, no consistent workplace, and nothing current to point to. Just a name in an old report and a line that said she’d been there that day.
JP worked the name through older records, got a few address hits, and finally landed on a small house in a quiet neighborhood a few miles from the school. He parked at the curb and sat for a moment before getting out.
The front yard was neat but not rigid, with toys off to one side and a small plastic slide near the porch.
JP walked up and knocked.
It took a few seconds, but the door opened just enough for a woman to look out. “Yes?”
JP kept his tone casual. “Ellen Adams?”
“Yes. Why?”
He handed her his card. “I’m JP Torn. I’m looking into something from a number of years ago. You were subbing at Jackson Elementary.”
“What is this about?”
“Hannah Caldwell.”
The door opened a little wider. “I could never forget that day.”
“Do you have a few minutes?”
“Tell me they found her.”
“I’m afraid not.”
She looked past him toward the street, then back inside the house. “All right,” she said. “But I can’t be long.”
They sat at a small table just inside the door. From where JP sat, he could see into the living room. A child’s voice drifted from somewhere deeper in the house. A cartoon played softly in the background.
Ellen kept glancing in that direction.
“You don’t teach anymore?” JP asked.
She shook her head. “No.”
“How long ago did you quit?”
“A few years,” she said. “After my first child.” She made another quick glance toward the other room.
“You were the teacher in Hannah’s classroom the day she disappeared, right?”
Ellen nodded.
“What do you remember about that day?” JP asked.
She took a breath. “I’ve played it over and over in my mind, but it’s still a little blurry. I didn’t know their routine, and that was part of the problem.”
“What kind of routine?” JP asked.
“Walking them out to the crossing guard. I didn’t know I was supposed to do that.” She looked and sounded distressed. “I usually subbed in higher grades. I had never worked in a kindergarten class before.”
“So, you dismissed them from the classroom?”
“Yes,” she said. “Just like any other class I had ever taught in. I didn’t realize that mattered until later.”
“Do you remember Hannah that day?”
Ellen nodded. “Clearly. She was such a sweet little girl. She talked a lot.”
“What did she say?”
“She talked about all kinds of things, then she lowered her voice and asked if she could leave a different way.”
“A different way how?” he asked.
“She didn’t say,” Ellen replied. “But that should’ve been a trigger for me. I should’ve known something was wrong.”
“Do you think she knew there was a problem?”
“I don’t know, but I should’ve pushed for answers. I just had so many kids in the class and they were all tugging at me. It’s so different with the little ones.”
“Did she say anything else that you remember?”
“I don’t think so. It just felt like she didn’t want to do the usual thing, like she was trying to avoid something. Looking back, it’s easy to see that was Hayes.”
“Do you remember anything else?” he asked.
Ellen hesitated. “There was a car out near the street. It wasn’t in the pickup line, but I could see it through the classroom window.”
“Did that car pick up Hannah?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see her after she left the classroom. And the car may not have had anything to do with Hannah. But she was watching the car too from inside the classroom.”
“What kind of car?”
Ellen shook her head. “I couldn’t tell you. I wasn’t paying that much attention.”
“Why did it stand out?”
She thought about it. “I saw Hannah watching it, and so I looked out. It was just sitting there. It probably was nothing. It’s just that after she was abducted, I started to question everything I saw and heard.”
“Did you tell the police?”
“Yes. But I didn’t have enough information to be helpful. I couldn’t even remember the color, much less the make or model. And I couldn’t see who was in it.”
JP wondered if it was the same car the crossing guard had seen. “Did anything about Hannah seem off to you?”
Ellen looked down at her hands. “I didn’t really know her, so I had nothing to compare her behavior to. I remember that she got quieter and more distracted the closer it got to school getting out. She wasn’t acting out. She just wasn’t focused on what we were doing.
But that may have been normal for her.”
From the other room, a small voice called out. Ellen turned immediately, half rising from her chair.
“I’m right here,” she called back, her voice soft but quick.
JP stood. “I’ll let you get back to your kids.”
Ellen stood too. “I don’t let them out of my sight much. I just can’t. Whenever I do, I think about poor Hannah.” A quiet passed between them. Then she said, almost to herself, “I didn’t know I was supposed to walk them out. If I had…”
She didn’t finish the thought. She didn’t need to.