Wild Secret

by Tripp Ellis

  “Don’t get up,” I said. “We’ll show ourselves out.”

  Paul got up anyway and showed us to the door. We strolled the walkway to the Porsche, and Paul watched from the doorway.

  We climbed in, and JD cranked up the engine.

  Paul smiled and waved as we drove away.

  22

  I called Tiffany McKnight. She was showing a house in the Platinum Dunes Estates. She said we could stop by and talk after she finished with her client. She'd heard about it on the news and had already spoken with Deborah Locke.

  We drove over to the posh neighborhood that was filled with McMansions, oversize SUVs, and exotic sports cars. Lawn crews attended to the landscaping, and a leaf blower buzzed a few doors down from the house Tiffany was showing.

  I don't want to say all the homes in the Platinum Dunes Estates looked the same, but they all had a similar design aesthetic and common themes. For several million dollars, you too could live in the lap of luxury.

  We pulled to the curb in front of the sprawling estate. There were two cars in the circular driveway. The white Lexus SUV belonging to Tiffany had a magnetic sign with her company logo stuck to the door. Her client drove a black jaguar convertible.

  We hopped out of the Porsche and walked up to the front door. JD pushed it open, and we stepped into the foyer. "Hello? Is anybody home?"

  His voice echoed off the high walls and vaulted ceilings.

  "Deputy Wild?" a voice called from the living room.

  “Yes. I’m with Deputy Donovan.”

  "Make yourself at home. Feel free to look around. I'll be with you shortly.”

  We took the time to wander around, scoping out the luxury home. It was fully staged with contemporary art on the walls and sleek modern furniture. There was travertine tile on the floor. A spiral staircase led up to the second story.

  JD and I climbed the steps and scoped out the bedrooms. There were four upstairs in total, plus a living area with a flatscreen display, couch, and game console—a place the kids could make a racket and not disturb the adults downstairs. There was a terrace that overlooked the patio and the pool. Beyond that, the canal was home to yachts, sport boats, and bluewater sailboats. The walls were painted with the standard-issue light beige, and the upstairs was covered with sand-colored carpeting.

  It was a nice home, no doubt about it.

  We stayed out of the way until Tiffany finished with her client. Their voices echoed as they stepped into the foyer. The two women said their goodbyes as Tiffany escorted her client to the door. As soon as the client was gone, Tiffany congratulated herself, “Yes!"

  I figured that was our cue, and we made our way downstairs.

  "I take it things went well?"

  "I think it's a done deal. I'll fax over the paperwork when I get back to the office."

  Tiffany was in her early 50s, but she looked closer to 43. She had a little work done here and there, but she’d taken care of herself rather well over the years. She was dressed in a pastel blue blazer and skirt with a cream blouse. She wore cream spike-heeled shoes and had a large sparkling diamond on her finger and a few dangling from her ears. The standard-issue, business professional pearl necklace was draped around her collar bones.

  As we hit the first-floor landing, we made formal introductions.

  "Thanks for taking the time to speak with us," I said.

  "Thanks for working on this case. I’d given up hope. I thought Skyler would never be found. She was my best friend. And after all these years, I still couldn’t get her out of my head. Every now and then, I would see her in my dreams. She was just as she always was, and we’d have a random conversation. When I woke, I could never remember what we talked about. I kept thinking that maybe the answer was in our conversations. I’d always tried to write them down when I woke, but it never seemed to make any sense. Skyler popped into my head just the other day. Then I saw the story on the news. Crazy."

  "When was the last time you saw Skyler?" I asked.

  "The day she went missing. She was in school that day. I had detention, imagine that, and had to stay after. I told her we'd catch up in the afternoon, maybe go to the mall. But I didn't hear from her. This was before cell phones. I remember I called the house, and she wasn't there."

  "Did you talk to Paul?"

  Her face crinkled. "You know, I don't remember if I got the answering machine or if I talked to Paul. I’ve killed some brain cells since then. Margaritas are my guilty pleasure. Anyway, I figured Skyler blew me off and was hanging out with Marshall. Then her mom called in a panic that evening."

  “Tell me about Marshall.”

  "Total loser. Have you talked to him yet?"

  I shook my head.

  “Life sure hasn’t been kind to him. Didn’t age well,” she muttered. “But he sure was cute back in the day."

  "What was their relationship like?"

  “He was kind of a dick. You know, the jealous, insecure type. He always wanted to know where she was, who she was with, what she was doing."

  “Do you know if he ever got abusive with her?"

  She cringed. "They were always getting in fights about something. She told me he hit her once. Could have been more than that, who knows? I told her she was crazy to stick around. He was a loser. He wasn’t going anywhere. And boy, did I call that one right."

  "You think he could have had anything to do with her disappearance?"

  She looked at me like it was a dumb question. "He was the first person I blamed. I could totally see him getting jealous. They get into a fight, and things get out of control. Next thing you know, she's dead, and he's gotta get rid of the body.”

  "We talked to Paul. He said they searched for Skyler together.”

  "Of course they did. What else was Marshall gonna do? All eyes were on him at the time. He put on a good show. Acted devastated. Searched everywhere. He put up flyers all over town. I remember the cops questioned him at the time, but they never got anything on him. Hell, I think he's been in and out of jail a few times on domestic assault. I wouldn’t be surprised if he killed more people too.” She sighed. “Some people seem to get away with everything."

  "Did Skyler tell you that she was pregnant?"

  "No. She never said anything to me about it. I was shocked when Deborah told me."

  "You and Skyler were close, right?"

  "Extremely. I didn't think we kept secrets from each other. Maybe she didn't know she was pregnant?”

  "Was she seeing anyone else besides Marshall?"

  Tiffany hesitated. "Well, sort of.”

  “Sort of?”

  “She told me she hooked up with this married guy a couple of times."

  JD and I exchanged a glance.

  "He was obviously older."

  "Like how older?”

  "I think he was like 40,” she muttered.

  I lifted a surprised brow. "Really? Do you know who?"

  "She never told me his name." Tiffany frowned. “We thought it was so cool at the time. Sophisticated. Worldly. It’s just creepy now. Looking back on it, I guess there were a few things she kept from me.” She sighed. “I like to think that I’m a vault, but I do run my mouth a little bit when I get tipsy."

  She cringed.

  "Were you getting tipsy a lot when you were 16?"

  Tiffany gave me another look like it was a dumb question. "Don't act like you two never got in trouble when you were kids. We were always getting into some kind of mischief. We'd sneak vodka from Paul's wet bar and replace it with water. It was easy to find somebody to buy a six-pack of beer or something from the liquor store. Especially in that day and age. Hell, back then, we’d just get all dolled up, put on sunglasses, and buy it ourselves sometimes.” She laughed at the memory. “We’d wear low-cut tops and push the girls together, and the clerks would never card us. My God! The cheap wine we used to drink. And we thought it was good, too.” She smiled and shook her head, thinking about the good old days.

  "Was there anybody e
lse that she was involved with at the time? Guys that may have had a crush on her?”

  Her face sparked with a realization. "Oh, yeah. Tommy Halford. He had such a crush on her. He was this dweeby little guy. No social skills. Just weird. He followed her around at school. He would stare endlessly, then just turn around and shuffle away when she looked at him." She took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling while she thought. "I can't prove it, but I swear there was one time when Skyler was spending the night at my house… I could have sworn I saw somebody peeping in through the window while we were getting changed. I'm pretty sure it was Tommy Halford." She laughed. "I'm sure he enjoyed the show."

  She looked at her watch. "Listen, I gotta run to my next appointment. But I'm happy to talk to you guys anytime. And if I remember anything else, I'll give you a call.” A solemn frown tugged her face. “I really hope you find out who did this. And if it's that Marshall Noonan creep, you nail his ass to the wall, you got me?"

  "I gotcha."

  She showed us out, locked up, and clicked her key fob. The lights flashed on her SUV. She called to us as we walked toward the Porsche. “The next time you need to sell your home, give me a call."

  I smiled and waved as I climbed into the Porsche. Jack pulled away from the curb, and I called Denise. “Tell me everything you know about Marshall Noonan.”

  23

  Nothing Denise told me was surprising. Marshall Noonan had a list of felonies and misdemeanors a mile long. He'd been in and out of jail multiple times, and the odds were good he'd be heading back there soon. Assault, battery, domestic abuse, DUI, possession of a controlled substance, and a host of other petty charges. He lived with his girlfriend, Heather Wallace, in Sunset Park.

  We pulled into the parking lot and cruised through the rows of mobile homes. JD was a little leery about driving the Porsche into the community. The car always left with an extra dent or scratch.

  Some of the trailers were well maintained and trimmed with latticework around the base and colorful gardens of flowers. Others were rusted out and overgrown with weeds.

  A couple of kids were tossing a baseball around the lot, and Jack went out of his way to avoid them. He’d already had a few run-ins with an errant football the last time we were here.

  We parked on the opposite end of the parking lot from the potential window breakers and walked toward Noonan's trailer. It was actually his girlfriend's trailer. JD clicked the alarm, and the lights on the Porsche flashed.

  We climbed the wooden steps to the porch and banged on the door. The windows rattled, and JD shouted, "Coconut County!"

  There was some commotion inside, and muffled voices seeped out.

  Footsteps rumbled toward the door.

  Marshall shouted. “What do you want?”

  “We just have a few questions?”

  “You got a warrant?”

  “This is just a friendly conversation.”

  “The hell it is. Come back with a warrant.”

  “I get suspicious when I have to get warrants. It would be a lot easier if you just talked to us.”

  “What the hell did you do now?” Heather growled.

  “I ain’t done nothing,” Noonan replied.

  “If you ain’t done nothing, open the door.” Heather’s footsteps pattered across the trailer, the handle rattled, and much to Marshall’s dismay, she swung open the door. A rush of air, stale with cigarette smoke, smacked us in the face.

  Heather smiled at us. “You’ll have to excuse his manners.”

  Marshall glared at her, anger swelling on his face.

  Heather had long blonde hair curled on the ends. Short bangs fell into her eyes that were rimmed with blue eyeliner. She wore a yellow skirt and had a two-tier muffin top that drooped over her waistline.

  She spun around, marched back to the couch, and plopped down to resume watching her show.

  Noonan’s angry gaze followed her. Then he stared at us with concerned eyes. He looked us up and down as I flashed my badge.

  “I didn't do nothing," Marshall said again.

  “I haven’t even mentioned why we’re here,” I said.

  "Anytime a cop shows up at my door, it can't be good.”

  “I take it you don’t watch the news or read the paper?"

  Marshall scowled. "Hell no. It's all noise."

  Marshall Noonan was in his early 50s, and he hadn’t held up too well. He was a thin, wiry guy. His once strong features had turned into drawn cheeks, hard lines, a crinkled brow, and a receding hairline. His brown hair was short and messy. It looked like it hadn’t been washed in a day or two. He had a goatee that was graying, and there was a sadness about his eyes. He looked older than he should have, and the years of bad luck and poor decisions had taken a toll on his face, constantly tensed with anger. He was mad at the system and lived in a state of perpetual discontent.

  I told him that we had discovered Skyler Locke's body submerged in a barrel of chemicals.

  His brow lifted with surprise. "No shit? No wonder we never found her.” He hung his head and frowned. "That's just a damn shame. A tragedy, really. She was such a beautiful girl. I was so in love with her back then."

  Noonan's girlfriend scoffed at that one. "Sounds like she got off easy then."

  "Shut up," Noonan barked.

  It was clear Heather was over his shit.

  "Did you love her enough to beat her?" I asked.

  Noonan's face crinkled with anger. "What are you talking about?"

  "You were never verbally and physically abusive with Skyler?"

  His scowl persisted. “Where’d you hear that nonsense? Tiffany? Bitch!" He huffed. "She always did think she was above everyone else. I see her every now and then on those goddamn commercials. I ran into her one time at a convenience store, and she was as rude as could be. All that money she’s got doesn't make her better than me." He paused for a moment. "She can say whatever she wants, but I loved Skyler with all my heart."

  Heather scoffed again.

  "I searched for her night and day when she first went missing,” Noonan continued.

  "Where did you look?"

  "All the usual places. At that time, we had hangouts on the island, and sometimes we’d go out to Angelfish or Barracuda or Crystal Key. But that was usually weekend stuff."

  "You searched with Paul, right?"

  "As I recall," Marshall said, nodding. "There were a couple weeks where we were going out every day. We got to the point where we had looked everywhere on the island that we could think of. Took his boat out looking too, but never thought to look for a barrel under the water."

  “Did you have access to a boat at that time?" I asked.

  “My dad had a 23-foot center-console. He let me borrow it from time to time." His face tightened. “Don't think I don't know where you’re going with this. I didn't have nothing to do with Skyler's disappearance. So, you guys need to get that out of your head right now."

  "Were you having any problems or disagreements with Skyler?"

  He shrugged. "I mean, we used to fight a lot. But that's how you know you really love someone. Only somebody you really care about can piss you off that way."

  "That's an interesting viewpoint,” I said.

  "That's passion," he said.

  Heather scoffed again.

  "You better keep your mouth shut, or I'm gonna show you real passion,” Marshall said in a sharp tone.

  Noonan wasn't the brightest bulb in the box, making a veiled threat to his girlfriend in the presence of police officers.

  "So, you never got physical with Skyler?" I asked, my voice thick with sarcasm.

  "What do you mean, physical? I mean, we got physical alright," he said with a sly grin. "We used to fuck like rabbits."

  "I bet she enjoyed that," Heather said flatly.

  Noonan's face tensed, and he glared at her again.

  "You never got passionate with your fists?" I asked.

  Noonan's angry eyes burned into me. "I told you. I never hit h
er."

  He looked over his shoulder at Heather as a warning to keep her mouth shut.

  She kept watching the TV and took a drag from her cigarette.

  "Tell me about Skyler’s uncle,” I said.

  "We got along. Like I said, we searched the high heavens for her. I never met Skyler's dad. Paul was the closest thing to a father she had. We’d drink a beer together on occasion. Even got high once."

  “Did Skyler ever mention anything about being pregnant?"

  Noonan's brow lifted. “She was pregnant?"

  I nodded.

  "Do you guys know who the father is?"

  “We’d sure like to find out."

  He thought about it for a moment. "I guess it is possible. We didn’t always use protection.”

  "Do you know if she was seeing anyone else at the time?"

  His face reddened. "I was all she needed."

  Heather scoffed again.

  Noonan shot her another glare.

  “Are you willing to give us a DNA sample?" I asked.

  Marshall hesitated for a moment. “I’ll have to decline, gentlemen."

  "What's the harm in giving a sample?"

  "I ain’t giving you guys shit without a court order. You're barking up the wrong tree. You need to be looking at that dweeb Tommy Halford. That's the kind of guy that would kill her and stuff her in a barrel."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "That little geek couldn't get laid in a whore house. He was always following Skyler around. I had to beat his ass one day."

  “And how did that work out?"

  "Obviously not too well, or she wouldn't have ended up in a barrel."

  We heard a bump followed by a crunch and the sound of breaking glass. A car alarm screeched across the parking lot. An engine roared, and tires squealed.

  We glanced to the parking lot as a lapis green hunk of shit pulled out and raced away.

  JD's face soured.

  24

  "Son-of-a-bitch!” JD grumbled, staring at the mangled front end of his Porsche.

  The green heap of junk backed into it, dented the hood, busted the headlight, and cracked the front bumper cover. Not a cheap fix by any stretch of the imagination.