Night Sky by Suzanne Brockmann Read Free Book Online Page B

unable to talk to him,” the detective informed me. “He’s been missing since Monday night.”
    â€œWhat?” Edmund was missing too? Monday was the night Sasha had vanished! “Maybe he’s with Sasha,” I said excitedly. “Maybe…”
    But my voice trailed off as Detective Hughes looked up at me. And I realized Hughes thought that Edmund had kidnapped Sasha. Or worse.
    â€œNo,” I said. “That’s crazy .” My voice shook despite my attempt to stay calm. “Mr. Rodriguez loves his daughter. He would never do anything to hurt her.”
    Mrs. Diaprollo nodded, although I wasn’t sure if she was agreeing with me or simply urging the interview forward.
    Hughes clenched his jaw, deliberately not looking up at me. He scribbled something down and continued. “Did Sasha ever talk about monsters coming into her room late at night?”
    I thought about the image I saw in Sasha’s room, the night she turned up missing. And I thought about the nightmares that scared her—the ones that she talked about with me sometimes before I tucked her in. But I knew that wasn’t what he meant. “No.”
    â€œDid you ever observe Mr. Rodriguez touching Sasha?”
    Back to this again. I looked down at the picture of all of us making funny faces for Carmen. “Obviously, yes.”
    â€œOkay. That’s all the questions we have for now.”
    I was livid, because I knew he was going to use my statement, my yes, as some kind of twisted proof that Edmund had done terrible things to Sasha. “You know if you do this, if you blame Mr. Rodriguez, then the people who really kidnapped Sasha will go free. We’ll never find her, never get her back!”
    Hughes looked up at me, and for a fraction of a moment I saw something in his eyes—sorrow, or maybe sympathy or regret. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by that defeated fatigue. He took a business card out of his pocket and slid it across the table to me. Then he took the picture and placed it back in the manila folder. “If you think of anything else that pertains to this case, please call this number.”
    I couldn’t breathe. “You have to believe me,” I insisted. “Edmund didn’t kidnap Sasha! He would never hurt her!”
    Hughes glanced at me again with raised eyebrows. I had called Mr. Rodriguez Edmund again.
    This wasn’t fair! This wasn’t fair !
    And then, just like that, from atop the conference desk, Detective Hughes’s soda can launched into the air and exploded.

Chapter Four
    â€œSo let me get this straight,” Calvin said, taking a bite of his peanut butter and banana sandwich. “You actually witnessed the dickhead cop get super-soaked by a can of soda as Mrs. Disapproval shrieked and moaned?”
    I smiled wanly as I nodded. “More importantly, they haven’t found Sasha,” I said, picking at my granola bar, “and they’re making the most ridiculous assumptions.”
    The midday air was unseasonably cool. Calvin and I ate our lunch outside at picnic tables by the quad, our faces warmed by the sun overhead. Birds chirped in the trees.
    Calvin chewed and thought. “So according to Detective Inappropriate, Edmund is their main suspect.”
    I nodded. Calvin had special skills in finding the perfect nickname for just about everyone.
    â€œWhat if this whole thing is one big miscommunication?” he asked me. “I’m sure when they talk to Edmund, they’ll be able to clear this up.”
    â€œIf they find him.” I shook my head miserably. “It’s like they’re hell-bent on framing him. MF-ers,” I added.
    I nibbled a little at the granola bar, but my appetite had vanished back when Hughes had asked, “Did he touch you on the rear?”
    Calvin somehow knew what I was thinking. “Did he touch you on the box? Did he touch you with a fox?”
    I