The Green Children: A Sycamore Moon Novel (Sycamore Moon Series Book 3) (7 page)

 

 

 

 

Maxim kneeled beside the teenager. The boy sat on the couch, head down, staring at his fidgeting hands. His father, a well-muscled but short man, stood over them both.

"You won't get in any trouble, Bryan," promised the detective.

"Speak for yourself," said the father. He eyed his son harshly. "Bryan, you're grounded no matter what you do, but you'd better tell this police officer everything you know right now. If I find you left anything out, I'll send you to your grandmother's for the summer."

"No, Dad!" he cried. "Please!"

The urgency in the boy's voice caused Maxim to smirk. The old lady must've been a real hag.

"Okay," said the boy. "I was with Annabelle. But only at first. The whole thing was like a prank."

The father huffed and tensed his crossed forearms over his chest. Maxim nodded reassuringly to Bryan.

"What was a prank? The disappearance?"

"No, the whole thing. The camping." Bryan glanced fearfully at his dad. "You know, she's always talking about leaving town for good. Hitchhiking to Los Angeles. Living off the streets if she needed. So a few of the guys thought, you know, it's a long weekend. Grady's parents were out of town, and he convinced Allison and BT to go. We all kinda thought it would be fun to run away for the weekend."

"Run away my ass," said his father, shaking his finger. "You charged seventy-five dollars to my credit card, and you're gonna work every penny of that off. With interest."

"
Okay
, Dad. I'm sorry."

Maxim bit his tongue. As a minor not charged with a crime, Bryan was only talking to the detective at his father's pleasure. Maxim didn't like the man interrupting his progress, but he was wary of getting on the father's wrong side. So far, they both were cooperating completely.

"Did you stay at Quiet Pines?" asked Maxim.

"No. No campsites. We wanted to be off the grid. To prove we could live off the land. That we didn't need our parents."

The father scoffed.

"It was just for fun, Dad."

Maxim nodded again. "So where did you stay?"

"BT knew a place just south of Sanctuary. A tree that got hit by lightning last year."

Maxim knew the place. As with Hazel Cunningham, Annabelle had last been seen north of the Interstate, although Quiet Pines was fifteen minutes to the west.

"And you never went into Flagstaff for a concert?"

"No, I never heard anything about that. All I knew was, she was cool for the weekend. But Annabelle's always lying to her parents like that. They don't care."

The kid may not have been far from the truth. Maxim glared at the boy pointedly. "So what happened to her?"

"Man, nothing! We just kissed a little. If she says anything else then that's a lie!"

"I'm talking about her disappearing, Bryan."

"Oh," the boy said meekly, glancing at his father. "Everything was fine Friday night. We slept in separate tents and everything. When we woke up the next morning, she was gone."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"'Cause we didn't do anything," he insisted. "We figured she just chickened out, you know? Walked back to Sanctuary. Her tent and bags were gone, so it was obvious she left by herself. And then BT noticed his wallet was missing. He thought maybe she went through with it and hitchhiked to California. But I didn't think so. I mean, Annabelle likes to talk a lot. She acts like she's an adult, but she's not. I knew she was still around."

"So that was the last any of you saw of her?"

Bryan nodded.

"If I talk to Grady and BT and Allison, they'll all say the same thing?"

"I swear."

Maxim chewed his lip. He wouldn't take the kid's word for it, of course. Half his job was confirming mundane information. It was in the little discrepancies that the lies revealed themselves.

"Look at me, Bryan," said the detective, locking his eyes on the boy's. "Did anyone do anything to Annabelle to make her leave? Do you know why she would have left you?"

The boy didn't answer immediately. His lip quivered. "No."

"Bryan," intoned the father.

The teenager stared at his lap again. "I—she might have been a little drunk."

"What?"

"Grady brought some wine coolers. I only had a taste."

His father snorted. It didn't take a detective to see through that lie. Maxim put his hand up to calm the man.

"Listen to me, Bryan. This is important. Did Annabelle say anything that night about what she wanted to do? Where she wanted to go?"

He shook his head. "Just Los Angeles, man. She wanted to be a singer. She was always recording herself, singing new songs and stuff."

Maxim frowned. "And if she didn't go home, if she didn't see her mother or father or any friends from school, where else would she have gone?"

Bryan thought for a moment but nothing came to him. The ringing of Maxim's phone interrupted them and he backed up to retrieve it from his jacket.

"Is that what you spent my seventy-five bucks on?" demanded the father. "Alcohol?"

Maxim stepped away as the two argued. He didn't recognize the phone number but answered anyway. "Detective Dwyer."

"Detective," came a familiar voice. "This is David Harper. There's an incident that needs your attention."

"What is it?"

"Your friend, Diego de la Torre—he's in police custody. He deserves it, to be honest, but he's asking to talk to you."

Maxim winced. "What did he do?"

"He followed a man into a bar in Williams and attacked him. Security grabbed him and a local uniform responded. Diego insisted this was related to the kidnapping so the deputy notified me."

Maxim tensed. "Related how?"

"That's the problem. It's not. Your friend is getting himself into trouble over this." David Harper assumed the same smug tone of superiority Maxim had come to expect. "Listen, this looks like a misunderstanding. The victim doesn't want to press charges and I realize your friend is worked up over recent events. As a favor to you, I'd be willing to let him walk, but you need to come down here to pick him up."

Great, Diego was getting into his usual trouble and cashing in a get-out-of-jail-free card. The last thing Maxim needed was a distraction. Even worse, he would now be in debt to a cocky detective from another department.

But he had no choice.

"Give me the location."

 

 

 

 

Maxim parked on the side of the road behind Detective Harper's unmarked car. Unlike Maxim's silver TT, it was a government vehicle. In the house's driveway was a Williams Police Department cruiser, with the familiar Shamu black and white coloring.

Diego de la Torre had garnered the attention of three agencies.

Speaking of the biker, as soon as Maxim exited his coupe, he spotted the outlaw handcuffed in the back of the police car, surprisingly calm. The biker turned to Maxim and smiled. The detective simply shook his head and continued past.

David Harper waved from the front porch and met Maxim halfway.

"Thanks for this," said Maxim.

The other man nodded. "It's not a problem." The Coconino detective appeared spent, but Maxim didn't see any anger on his face. Perhaps Harper really was making a kind gesture.

"This is what went down," he said. "Your friend got a name from the manager of Quiet Pines. That man, Jason Bower, lives at this residence. He actually wasn't on our list. According to Diego, we missed him at the scene because Jason checked out before the girl went missing. You with me so far?"

Maxim sighed and glanced back at Diego. "Yeah."

"Okay. So far, so good. Not a bad piece of information, actually. But then your friend decides to confront the man himself. Bower, being followed by a biker, is naturally afraid for his life. He clocks Diego with a bottle and they get into a brawl at the local watering hole. Except, this isn't the best neighborhood. They keep a bouncer on at all times, even in the morning. And you should see this guy. He's a grizzly bear."

"Got it," said Maxim impatiently. "How much trouble is he in?"

Harper raised his eyebrows and paused for dramatic effect. "None. Jason's sorry for what he did. Diego only got physical in response. It's funny how easily a large Samoan can appeal to a man's reason. Your friend decided he was fine with the authorities handling the rest."

Maxim chuckled. "Neither wants to press charges?"

"Nope. As long as everyone cooperates. I'm gonna call this a wash."

A police officer in blues exited the house. He nodded at Maxim, who returned the gesture.

"Sorry about all this," said Maxim. "And thanks. Can we get Diego out now?"

The officer shrugged. "I was waiting for you."

"By the way," said Maxim before they moved to the car, "where are you on the camper?"

Detective Harper stretched his shoulders and yawned. "Jason Bower? He says he never even saw the girl. He let us search the premises, and a phone call confirmed that he left the campgrounds three or four hours before Hazel went missing."

"What was the fight about?"

"Guy owes money to some bad people, apparently. He says he's been in hiding over the weekend, avoiding any unpleasant confrontations. That's why he went to Quiet Pines. Get this. He had his hopes on the Final Four. Only Saturday's game doesn't go his way and he needs to wait for the championship on Monday."

"But he's still hiding out today so it looks like he missed his payday."

Harper shrugged. "We both know how that goes. Bower panics while deciding how to climb out of his deepening hole, sees your friend, and thinks he's a scary gangster."

Maxim chuckled. "He's not far off."

Both detectives waited for the other to say something, but that was all there was. A funny story, as long as you weren't Jason or Diego, but nothing more. The lead on Bower had triggered false hope. Still, Maxim couldn't help but wonder what else Diego had on the man.

"Okay. Let's get Al Capone out of the car."

 

 

 

 

Diego grew impatient as they neared the vehicle. It didn't make sense. He'd been detained for over an hour already—what difference did another minute make? But Maxim was sure as shit taking his time getting him out of this cage.

Cage. Diego again thought of the biker word for cars. He had just wanted to avoid being cooped up in the tow truck today. He never figured the term to be so literal.

As his freedom teased closer, all he could see was the photograph of Hazel Cunningham, still in his pocket but etched into his synapses, like an afterimage forever burned into a TV screen. Diego needed to get out, shake things up, change the picture again.

Maxim, as if reading his thoughts, paused outside the car door. He shot Diego a familiar stare, half warning, half threat. It instructed Diego to behave. To act rationally.

To not be himself.

Diego fumed and wanted to curse but held back. If there was ever a time to check his temper, it was while in police custody. As he knew it would, the door opened just seconds later.

"Proud of yourself?" asked Maxim.

Diego sneered. "How about you give me the guilt trip later, after Hazel's safe?"

Maxim backed away and spread his hands in surrender. The detective was good like that. He was a cop, for sure, but his priority was always the victim.

Officer Bagley approached to help Diego exit the car. The biker shrugged away the assistance. He gladly turned around and accepted the uncuffing of his hands, though.

"Today's your lucky day," said the cop. "But Arnold doesn't want you in the Gold Room again."

Diego rubbed his sore wrists. "I like my bars with a little less puke anyway."

The officer smiled and shut the door.

"So are we done with this?" asked Detective Harper. The man crossed his arms and stood tall. "You promise not to harass Mr. Bower anymore?"

"I promise," said Diego. "Just a conversation, if I can."

The detective shook his head and turned to Maxim. "Is this guy serious? He—" David stopped himself and stepped into Diego's personal space. "No. Listen to me. Mr. Bower's had a long day. And he's in a world of shit already without you. He sold his car today to cover a gambling loss, and might need to sell the house."

"That's his problem," replied Diego. "If you really gave a shit you could put a protection detail on him."

David Harper laughed. "I
don't
give a shit, man. As long as I'm not dragged away from my work. He could dig his own grave for all I care. So can you. But you're not talking to him again."

Diego's face must've gone red. He wanted to tell the cop off even though he'd just done him a big favor. That consideration made him pause. Thankfully Maxim cut in.

"Actually, I don't want to step on anyone's toes, Detective, but if you're done with Jason Bower I'd like to chat with him for a few minutes."

The next few seconds were filled with silence. Diego's friend had done exactly what he expected, and he didn't see how he wouldn't get his conversation now.

"Fine," said David, scowling. "You do whatever you want. But don't expect any more favors, Mr. Torre. You've been warned." The detective swept his hands together as if he washed them and addressed Maxim. "He's your responsibility now." David Harper made his way to his car. He sat inside, started the engine, and rolled down the window. "Officer Bagley," he called out. "You might be inclined to wait here until their interview is done, to keep things civil."

The young police officer stammered like a deer caught in headlights, but composed himself. "Sure."

With one last shake of his head, Detective Harper drove off, hopefully gone from Diego's life.

Diego moved for the house but Maxim put his arm across his chest.

"I don't need to ask if you're done throwing punches, do I?"

"Just words."

The detective nodded. "Okay. How about I start things off? You can come in only if he has no objections." Maxim beat the biker to the porch and knocked softly. Jason Bower must have expected some follow-up questions because he opened the door and let them inside without a word. Officer Bagley remained by his car.

"I'm Detective Dwyer, from the Sanctuary Marshal's Office."

"I'm not in any trouble, am I?"

"Not besides running out of college ball games to double down on. I just want to ask some questions. Maybe Detective Harper already asked you some of the same things, but please bear with me."

Jason glanced at Diego while he considered, then nodded at Maxim. "You're the one that found that girl up there."

"I am."

"Yeah, man, I'll answer whatever I can. Shit like this shouldn't happen."

Although the man was cooperating, he hadn't invited them to sit down. The three of them huddled by the door.

Maxim cleared his throat. "Mr. Bower, you told Detective Harper you saw Hazel Cunningham right before you left?"

"What? No. I didn't say that."

Diego realized Maxim was setting Jason up, coming at him with skewed questions to catch him in a lie.

"When did you see her last then?" asked Maxim.

"I didn't. Not really. I mean, I may have clocked the family the day before. No offense, but that's one hot mom." Jason flinched away from Diego's glare and cleared his throat. "But I woke up at dawn Monday morning, took off before anyone was up and about. Didn't really see anyone."

"Who did you see?" asked Diego.

The man shrugged. "No one, I guess. There was a couple walking a dog. And Charlie, the office manager."

Maxim pulled out his phone and casually referenced some notes. "No one else?"

"No."

"No one or nothing that looked strange? Out of place?"

Jason swallowed. "It was just morning, man. There was nothing."

Maxim sucked his teeth and nodded, scrolling through some documents. "Mmm hmm. What kind of dog?"

"Huh?"

"The couple walking the dog—what kind of dog was it?"

The man shook his head dismissively. "It was like a German Shepherd I think."

The detective nodded again but remained silent. Diego didn't want to stomp all over Maxim's interview strategy, but his friend was missing the point.

"Why'd you leave Quiet Pines so early?" demanded the biker.

Jason practically jumped at the question. Maybe he didn't feel safe around Diego, even with a police detective in the room. Something about that satisfied the biker.

"I just woke up early," said Jason.

"Horseshit. You left suddenly and prematurely. Charlie said you put down a deposit on another night." Maxim lifted an eyebrow at the news. Diego smirked. "You're not the only one who can ask questions." The detective acknowledged the statement with a tilt of his head and turned to Jason expectantly.

The man's gaze fluttered around the room. He took a step back.

"Hey," said Maxim, snapping his fingers in Jason's face a few times. "It's not a good idea to lie to me. You assaulted a man with a deadly weapon today. I want the truth."

The man's indecision paralyzed him. Diego took a step forward and Jason threw his hands up. "Okay! Okay!" He backed up a few steps and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not really into camping, you know? I mean, I like the woods and hiking and all that, but sleeping in a tent isn't my idea of a good time. You know the woods around here. Shit gets creepy at night."

What the man said was true, but that wasn't enough for Diego. "You're trying to tell us you bailed first thing in the morning because you're scared of the dark?"

"I know it sounds stupid," Jason countered, "but listen. I know this area. I know there are dangerous things out there. Animals. Outlaws. Hermits. It's not exactly normal, but it's never been like last night."

"What did you see?" asked Maxim.

"I... It's hard to say. I don't know what I saw or heard. You guys are gonna think I'm crazy."

Maxim clenched his teeth. "What did you see?"

Jason's gaze shifted between both men. He was nervous. If it was an act, it was a good one. But he let out a deep breath and decided to trust them.

"I heard crying," he said. "Like a little kid crying."

"A girl?" asked Diego.

"I don't know. It was hard to tell. It was far away. But this was all the night before. I was jonesing for a smoke so I got off my ass and went for a walk."

Maxim and Diego listened quietly. Jason paused his story and went for a pack of cigarettes on the coffee table, as if the mention of smoking required him to feed his habit. As he lit up, Diego thought about doing the same, but he didn't like the idea of being a slave to it.

"I heard soft crying," he continued after a drag. "But it wasn't coming from the other campsites. It was further into the forest. I went out, just a little mind you, but someone
was
crying. It probably wasn't my business, but I figured I would at least check." Jason put his cigarette to his lips and puffed.

Diego couldn't breathe. "And?"

"I don't know. I heard them and—"

"Them?" asked Maxim.

Jason shrugged. "I guess. There was talking. Whispering. Singing. It was fucking weird."

Maxim stopped him again. "You think a few rebellious teenagers could have done this?"

"These weren't teenagers, man. They were little kids. At least that's how they sounded. The thing is, even as I went deeper into the forest, the voices never got louder. Like, I heard the singing, but I never got closer to it." The man became agitated and took another drag. "I started to think some kids were fucking with me or something."

"How many kids?"

"I can't really say. Could've been two, could've been ten. All I know for sure is there was more than one, because I heard singing and crying at the same time."

Maxim and Diego traded glances.

Jason rubbed his eyes as if he could scrub away the vision. "I know this is gonna sound stupid, but I was pretty wired. It was late, man, and that tree cover blots out the moon. I followed slowly, not sure which way to go, and then I stumbled on a shoe."

Maxim leaned forward. "A shoe?"

"Yeah, like a little kid's shoe. One of those shiny black ones with a big buckle on it." Jason stopped talking as if he'd made his point.

"What did you do?" asked the biker.

"What do you think I did? I booked it back to my tent. That shit creeped me out. I don't know if someone needed help or not, but I wasn't gonna die alone in the woods."

Diego saw Maxim's face grow solemn. "It was just a shoe," said the detective.

"Look," said Jason, hands raised to plead his case. "I owe a lot of money to a couple people. Had to sell my car on the cheap to buy some time, but I gotta look over my shoulder just the same. It's dangerous for me to hang around town, is what I'm saying. But out there, in Sycamore, the fear was something else, man.
Something
was out there. It tears me up to think about where that little girl might be, but I've got my own problems."

Diego rubbed the scruff on his chin. He didn't know what to make of the man's story, but he appeared to believe what he said. One way or the other, something scared him out there. That would explain why he'd left in a hurry. It also meant Jason Bower was likely innocent. Maybe he knew something that could help, maybe not, but he wasn't involved. Diego couldn't blame the guy for taking off, either. He hadn't known a little girl would go missing hours later.

Maxim might think differently. It was his job to go after stuff like this. Like Jason, Diego had his own problems too. But he wasn't the same man. He'd made a promise to Julia, and as the look on Jason's face sent a shiver down his spine, Diego was going to keep his word.