Free Jilliane Hoffman by Pretty Little Things

the answer to, the more she felt judged as a shitty mother, the more she clammed up. Not quite the distraught, ‘I’ll do anything I can to help you find her’ reaction one might expect, but then again, if ten years heading up Crimes Against Children had taught Bobby anything, it was that there was no ‘right’ way to behave when a kid disappears. He’d watched perfect moms sob perfectly on national television, begging for help in finding their babies, only to cuff the same cold-hearted bitches a few hours later in an interrogation room. He’d also seen the polar opposite – the reserved, seemingly heartless mother who can’t cry. The one whose indifference is viewed as most suspicious in the eyes of the public-at-large. The one who holds every emotion tightly in check because, Bobby knew, like a shattered vase gingerly held together with glue, if you removed just one piece, just one, then all the others would collapse and you’d never be able to put it back together again. So no reaction – or lack thereof – was ever ‘normal’ in these investigations. But even if he wasn’t necessarily reading ‘sinister’ in Debra LaManna’s overt hostility, it still wasn’t a good feeling to dislike the parent of the kid you were looking for. In this instance, it just made it that much easier to see why the girl might’ve left in the first place.
    ‘And none of Elaine’s friends who you’ve contacted’ – he looked down at his notepad to read back the names – ‘Molly Brosnan, Melissa and Erica Weber, Theresa M. – none of them know this girl Karen/Carly or how to get in touch with her?’
    Debbie sighed loudly. ‘Like I said, it’s a different school than last year. Melissa, Erica, Molly – those girls are Lainey’s friends from the old house.’
    ‘Lainey? That’s Elaine’s nickname?’ Zo piped in from his seat on a fold-up chair next to the couch where he’d been sitting quietly for most of the interview.
    Debra shrugged. ‘Her friends call her that.’
    ‘New house, new school, new friends. How’d Lainey feel about all that change?’ Bobby asked.
    Debra rolled her eyes again. ‘Please. She wasn’t happy about it. Is that what you wanna hear? That she was unhappy? OK. She was unhappy. Drama, drama, drama. It’s all about the drama at this age. She had to leave her friends a few miles away and change schools, but we all have to make sacrifices. If that’s the worst shit she had to face as a kid, then she’s damn lucky.’
    ‘What about boyfriends?’ Bobby asked.
    ‘She doesn’t have a boyfriend.’
    ‘You’re sure? Is there a boy she likes, maybe?’
    Debbie cut him off with a dismissive wave. ‘I’m very sure.’
    Behind where she sat on the couch Bobby could see into the kitchen. Empty beer bottles dotted the countertop and spilled out of the top of the garbage can. He’d already spotted the portable cooler next to the couch. ‘Does Elaine do any drugs? Drink alcohol?’
    She stared at him like he had three heads. ‘Look, if you just call some of the girls in her new school, you’ll find her. Just do some police work and call the principal and have him give you a class list or something. I can even look it over and see if I recognize the name or something. You know, maybe I’ll recognize it if I see it? I’m sure Elaine is at that girl’s house, I’m sure she’s not doing crack or drinking, and I’m sure I can deal with her once she’s back home. I just need some help in getting those names, you know?’
    Even with an older kid who’d run amok, the lady was still wearing a sturdy pair of parent blinders. She might not have come out and said it, but if Bobby had a buck for every time he heard a parent tell him, ‘My kid wouldn’t do that,’ he’d be a millionaire. My kid wouldn’t have sex at fourteen. My kid wouldn’t do meth. My kid wouldn’t smoke. My kid wouldn’t drive drunk. My kid wouldn’t shoplift . Statistics say 80 per cent of teens have screwed up in