Monday morning arrived with the usual rushâalarms blaring, the boys groggily waking up, and Mrs. Faulkner ensuring everything stayed on schedule. Miss Harper, still unsettled from the weekendâs events, moved through the motions, helping the boys get ready for the day.
"Come on, boys, up and at âem!" she called out, flipping pancakes onto their plates. "Weâve got a busy morning ahead."
Jake and Alex rubbed their eyes as they made their way to the kitchen, quickly digging into breakfast. Just as they finished, a knock on the door signaled Mrs. Caldwellâs arrival.
Mrs. Faulkner greeted her with a tight smile. "Good morning, Mrs. Caldwell. I need to take Miss Harper to the police station this morning regarding something that happened over the weekend. Can you handle the boysâ lessons today?"
Mrs. Caldwell nodded, her face etched with concern. "Of course. Is everything alright?"
"We just need to be cautious," Mrs. Faulkner replied. "Please keep the doors locked, and donât let the boys go outside. Weâll be back as soon as we can."
With a final glance at the boys, who were now watching their mom and babysitter with curiosity, Mrs. Faulkner and Miss Harper grabbed their things and headed for the car. As they pulled away, Mrs. Harper exhaled deeply, bracing herself for whatever the morning at the police station would bring.
They entered the police station and saw a woman in a police uniform around 50 typing away at a computer behind a large counter. She glanced up, noticing them approach, and gave a polite nod. "Good morning. How can I help you?"
Mrs. Faulkner stepped forward. "We have a meeting with Detective Singer."
The woman nodded and checked her computer. "Ah, yes. Heâs expecting you. Go ahead and have a seat. Heâll be out in just a moment."
Miss Harper and Mrs. Faulkner exchanged a glance before walking over to the seating area. The weight of anticipation settled over them as they waited, knowing that this meeting could determine their next steps in ensuring their safety.
A few moments later, a tall man with graying hair and a firm expression stepped out from a hallway, his badge clipped to his belt. "Miss Harper? Mrs. Faulkner?" he called.
They stood and approached him. "Detective Singer?" Miss Harper asked, her voice steady but laced with nerves.
He nodded. "Good to see you again, Miss Harper, though I am sorry it is under such circumstances." He then looked at Mrs. Faulkner and added, "You must be the boys' mother."
Mrs. Faulkner extended her hand. "Yes, I am. Thank you for meeting with us."
Detective Singer shook her hand firmly. "Come on back. Letâs talk."
With that, they followed him into his office, ready to lay everything out on the table.
Once inside, they sat across from Singer at his cluttered desk. Miss Harper took a deep breath and recounted everything from the weekendâthe man at the car show, the note left on her Impala, and the uneasy feeling that had lingered since. She then reached into her bag and pulled out the folded note, sliding it across the desk.
Singer picked it up, reading the bold words carefully. "Beautiful car. Stay safe." He exhaled sharply. "Weâll have this checked for prints and run a check on the license plate you gave me. We should have results in a few hours."
Miss Harper and Mrs. Faulkner exchanged a glance. "And if something does come up?" Mrs. Faulkner asked.
"Then weâll figure out the next steps together," Singer assured them. "For now, keep an eye out and let me know if anything else happens."
Miss Harper nodded, feeling a bit of the weight lift from her chest. They werenât alone in this anymore.
Detective Singer stood up, offering a reassuring nod. "Go back and be with the boys. Weâll be in touch as soon as we have something."
Three hours passed before Singer finally got the results. He scanned the report in front of him, his expression tightening. The only fingerprints on the note were Miss Harper's and his own. More troubling, the license plate they had checked belonged to an 85-year-old woman in Texasâbut it didnât match the car from the event.
"Damn it," he muttered, slamming his fist against his desk in frustration. He took a moment to regain his composure, then reached for his phone. It was time to call Miss Harper and let her know what they were dealing with.
The phone rang, and Miss Harper answered, "Hello?"
"Hello, Miss Harper, this is Singer. We have the results, but they arenât good," he said, giving her the rundown.
Miss Harper went pale as the boys noticed her change in demeanor. Jake quickly walked up to check on her while Alex ran to their mom's office to get Mrs. Faulkner. The tension in the house escalated as they braced for what was coming next.
Mrs. Faulkner came down and saw Miss Harper, her phone still in her hand, her face drained of color. She could hear Detective Singerâs voice on the other end, still speaking. Stepping forward, she gently took the phone from Miss Harper.
"Hello, Detective? This is Mrs. Faulkner. Whatâs happening?"
Singer quickly went over the details again, and Mrs. Faulkner let out a slow breath. "Oh my God. Thank you for the help either way."
"Iâm not giving up on this," Singer assured her. "Iâll get a police sketch out and see if we get any results. In the meantime, stay safe. Keep your doors locked."
"We will. Thank you, Detective."
After the call ended, Mrs. Faulkner turned back to Miss Harper, gently guiding her to sit down. "Take a deep breath. Weâre safe right now."
Miss Harper exhaled shakily. "I just... I donât like this."
"I know," Mrs. Faulkner said, squeezing her shoulder. "But weâre not alone in this. Weâll figure it out together."