Free Missing Pieces by Jerry B. Jenkins, Chris Fabry

you’re afraid of getting that person in trouble because . . .”
    “Because?”
    “. . . that person is a friend of someone related to you? And that person could be locked up for a long time.”
    Sam scratched at his mustache. “How sure are you?”
    “All the clues point to one person.”
    “Randy.”
    I nodded, wondering how he knew.
    “How much evidence?”
    I laid out everything.
    Sam folded his arms. “That is a lot, but it’s all circumstantial. Know what that means?”
    I took a stab. “It’s not enough?”
    “It means you have a lot of reasons but nothing concrete.”
    “There’s concrete in the mailbox.”
    Sam smiled. “Pun unintended. Anyway, don’t jump to conclusions when you’re not 100 percent sure.”
    I didn’t like Sam’s answer, but I knew he was right. “What if I want to warn this person that he’s being watched?”
    Sam chewed the inside of his cheek. “I suppose if it were me I’d appreciate it. And if I were that person’s girlfriend, I’d appreciate it even more.”

Chapter 73

    I dialed the number but nearly hung up before the answering machine picked up.
    “Hi, it’s Tonya and Maria. Leave a message and we’ll call you back.”
    “Here comes the beep!” Maria said.
    I hung up before the beep. Mrs. Z was the only mother Maria had ever known. Maybe she really was Mrs. Z’s child. Could Mrs. Garcia be using me?
    Later Bryce and I watched a show about the police reopening an old case to figure out a murder. To find out the identity of a body, they took a strand of hair and did DNA testing on it. With that they were able to tell who the dead person was related to.
    If I could get strands of hair from Maria and from Mrs. Garcia and have them analyzed, we could find out for sure if they were mother and daughter.

Chapter 74

    Ashley’s strong-minded and has her own way of doing things, but I could tell the doctor stuff was wearing her down. At lunch two days later I thought she’d flipped her lid when she asked to borrow one of my sandwich bags for Mrs. Garcia’s hair.
    “The bag has peanut butter in it.”
    “I don’t care.”
    Mrs. Garcia didn’t seem half as mean as she used to. Ashley whispered to her, and while Mrs. Garcia gave her a strange look, she took off her plastic gloves and pulled out a couple of strands of hair.
    Ashley stuffed them into the peanut-butter bag and headed for her next class.
    “Now all I need is a DNA expert,” Ashley said. “And one more thing.”

Chapter 75

    I rushed home after school to run errands with Mom. I asked her to drop me off at the elementary school just before it let out so I could give Angelique something. But of course that wasn’t my only reason.
    I went by Angelique’s room and peeked in. I thought about interrupting, but I waited until the bell rang to get her attention. She ran over to me, and I gave her a bag of goodies. “Hope you like them.”
    “Thanks!” she said, beaming.
    “Do you think you could help me find Maria?”
    “Mrs. Z’s daughter?” she said. “Sure. There she is.”
    The sight took my breath away. Mr. Cheplosa’s picture had come to life. Her teeth were a little shorter, and her hair a little longer, but her face was so close it was amazing.
    She looked at me suspiciously as I held out my hand. “Hi, I’m Ashley, Angelique’s tutor.”
    “Hi,” she said, grabbing her backpack. I noticed a hair on her shoulder. I brushed at it, then picked it off.
    “Excuse me?” a woman said from behind me.
    I jumped and turned around.
    “Hi, Mrs. Z!” Angelique said.
    “Hello,” the woman said, not taking her eyes off me.
    I dropped the hair and reached out to shake her hand. She shook like she had a dead fish at the end of her arm.
    “I’m Ashley, Mrs. Z,” I said, smiling and pumping the fish up and down. “Angelique told me about your daughter.”
    She squinted. “Do you have a reason to be here during school?”
    “Just dropping off a present to the best . . . tutee in school.