1. The Battered Lamp Chapter Seventeen: The Decision of the Mother


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    other. Safer that way.” Detective Donnar gave a snorting laugh. “Has your daughter ever disappeared like this before?” “Never. She's a model student. Get's straight A's. I don't know what's gotten into her.” Feet thumped down the stairs and Phillipa appeared, a heavy suitcase clutched in one hand. She was a beautiful teen, her skin pale-olive, vaguely Asian, with those slanted eyes. Her mother, a middle-aged, oriental woman was behind her, shouting loudly and rapidly in Korean. “I'm eighteen!” Phillipa snarled. “I can move out if I want to!” “Your father and I worried sick about you. And you just want to leave. Where were you?” “At my girlfriend's! And it's where I'm heading to.” Her mother seized her arm. “You will not. My daughter is no...lesbian!” “Well, I am! And Britney and I are getting married!” “Britney?” the detective asked. “Britney Kingston?” How interesting. She's involved with Kyle's best friend. Phillipa froze, gazing at the detective, then she looked at the ground. “Yes,” she whispered. “Can I ask you some questions? I'm Detective Donnar with the Pierce County Sheriff's department.” “I need to get to my girlfriend. She's expecting me.” She didn't look up. Phillipa is neck deep in this mess. “When was the last time you saw Rashawn Underhill?” “Um, at school on Wednesday.” She continued staring at her feet. “And Lorrie Gore?” “Same.” “Do you know where Christy Leonardson or Sable Purcell are?” She shook her head. “I haven't seen them since, um, Wednesday.” ...
    “Where at?” “The...uh...school.” “Have you ever been to Ms. Franklin's cabin?” She looked up, making her eyes go wide, trying to look innocent. “She has a cabin?” Phillipa was a terrible liar. “Were you at the cabin?” Her gaze dropped. “No.” Her hand rubbed at her neck. “Do you know what happened to your friends?” “I heard.” “At your girlfriend's?” She nodded. “I need to get going. She's waiting for me.” “And where were you Wednesday night?” “I went over to my girlfriend's house after school. We never left her bedroom except to eat and, you know.” “And she can verify your story?” She quickly nodded. “Is Britney threatening you? Or Kyle Unmei?” She flinched, then shook her head vigorously, her hand reaching up to rub at her neck, the hem of her sweater slipping down and revealing red marks on her wrists—restraint marks. “Britney would never do that. She loves me. Can I go?” “Are you okay?” he asked her, reaching out to touch her red wrist. She yanked her sweater sleeve back down. “I'm fine. Britney and I were just...playing...with handcuffs.” Teens are so wild these days. He pulled out a card. “If you think of any reason why your friends and Ms. Franklin could have been at the cabin, let me know.” She took the card, pushed past the Detective and headed out to her car, throwing the suitcase in the trunk. He watched her drive off, excitement churning inside him. Here was another connection with Kyle Unmei. That young man sat at the center of everything. His gut told him so. He almost ...
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