by Domino Finn
"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 h
e 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.
Chapter 18
It was dark out by the time they left Jason Bower.
"A whole day wasted," complained Diego. He lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out with a hiss. The biker headed to his Scrambler across the street and was slightly annoyed that Maxim followed. He sighed and leaned on the chain-link fence. "Let's get this over with, then."
The detective put his hands in his pockets and watched the brooding biker.
"Well?" asked Diego.
Maxim smirked. "Okay. I understand what you're trying to do here. I know you want to find Hazel Cunningham. Hell, I know you, Diego. Act first, plan later."
"Saves time."
"It also wastes time. You pulled me and Detective Harper away from our investigations to bail your ass out."
"He's an asshole." Diego blew smoke from his nose. It enhanced his temper.
Maxim nodded. "Yeah, he is. And he did you a huge favor today."
"He did you a favor."
Maxim ignored the correction. "And his job is to find Hazel Cunningham. Sometimes you want an asshole to do these kinds of jobs."
"So what do you guys know then?" asked Diego, pushing off the fence and pointing at the detective, cigarette in hand. "After today it'll be two full days that she's missing. What do you think her chances are?"
Maxim held his tongue, but his eyes betrayed the truth. "Annabelle was found after three days."
"And she's fucked up because of it. That little girl's traumatized to all hell. If she was trapped somewhere and escaped, she needs to talk about it. It's irresponsible not to talk about it. You wanna do something useful, Maxim? You get that little girl to talk. You find out where she was."
A sigh. "I'm on top of it."
"Really, bro? I saw your press conference, Maxim. Excuse me for my total fucking lack of confidence in the police. You have no idea what went down."
"Fine," barked Maxim, getting heated himself. "You're right. I wasn't there. I don't know where Hazel is any more than you do. That's how these things work, Diego. You can't let emotion drive you in these moments. This kid deserves our very best. We act professional. We share information. We catch a break. I can't promise that we'll save her, man, but I will get to the bottom of it."
Diego's words caught in his throat as he processed the detective's last words. There it was. The implicit reality that he hadn't wanted to acknowledge. The fact that this might not have a happy ending. Julia would be crushed, a little girl would be destroyed, and whoever was responsible might even get away with it.
Diego and Maxim had been through a lot together. Was it possible their best wasn't good enough this time?
The burning ash of the cigarette flared as Diego pulled on it. The men were silent. Across the street, Officer Bagley pulled his cruiser out of Jason's driveway and disappeared down the street.
Maxim moved to Diego's bike. "You brought a gun?"
The detective had noticed the shotgun holster. He walked around the motorcycle and Diego explained the obvious. "It's empty."
"I can see that. Where is it? You didn't lose another firearm, did you?"
Diego's eyes narrowed at the reminder. "Of course not. I don't own any guns right now," he admitted. "I've been saving up." The biker didn't mention the real reason. He didn't know if he could trust himself with a gun anymore. Besides, rent was more important.
Maxim chuckled. "So why strap the holster? Afraid of losing your outlaw charm?"
"That's in my heart, brother."
Maxim studied the biker. "Look, Diego. Doing things on your own is fine. Just keep your actions above board. The lead on Jason Bower was a solid one. It was good detective work. But you need to share any information you get with Coconino. It's their case. I'll do everything I can to press them—you know that—but this only works through cooperation."
The biker nodded silently. He wasn't so sure going after Jason had been a mistake. He didn't get what he wanted, but the strange story about the kids was a curiosity. It gave them something else to think about, at least.
And there was another thing. Diego had another lead. Red, the old man who'd been denied entry into Quiet Pines. He was a loner. A hermit. He still needed to be cleared.
"So is there anything else?" asked Maxim. "Anything you want to tell me?"
Diego tossed the cigarette butt to the ground and stomped it out with the toe of his boot. "Nothing," he said, straddling his bike. "Just talk to the girl, Maxim. Get her to tell you something. Anything."
Chapter 19
"More wine?"
Olivia Hayes poured an extra glass of red without waiting for Maxim's answer. It was an earthy Syrah, she said. All he knew was it went down easy and left a tingle on his lips. Those were good things that led to him drinking more. But that wasn't the whole of it. Not only did the woman know her wines, but she looked sharp in her casual blouse and jeans. And somehow, her blonde hair had the perfect accidental styling that only belonged in the movies.
"It's good," he said, waiting for her to sit down first. She did, on the plush sofa, next to her daughter Annabelle. "Sorry again for the late hour."
"I'm gonna have a fit if you apologize again, Detective. Us girls like our nights."
Olivia smiled, but her daughter wore a vacant expression. She was all prissed up: light brown curls, tender pink skin, a long dress. But it was superficial. Just a coat of paint. Annabelle was somewhere else, maybe not in body, but in soul.
Maxim sat down on the second couch. "How are you doing, Annabelle?"
The girl's blue eyes fell to the floor, but she was otherwise still.
Olivia ran her fingers through her short hair. "Go on, dear," she said nervously.
Annabelle simply nodded.
"Is it okay to talk?" asked Maxim softly.
The girl barely glanced his way. It wasn't nervousness as much as apathy. She wasn't afraid of talking—she simply didn't see the point.
"Oh, before I forget," added Maxim, fishing into his pocket. He pulled out Annabelle's key chain. "You left this at your father's house."
The girl's head darted to her keys and she snatched them. She twirled them noisily in her hand.
"That's not for a car, is it?" he asked, pointing to the key fob. He noted there wasn't an actual car key on the key chain, however.
"Oh that," said Olivia, shaking her head dismissively. "Kids. She's always leaving that thing around."
Maxim didn't know what Olivia meant, but Annabelle smiled at him.
"Thanks."
The detective nodded. It wasn't much, but it was a start.
"You mind if I show you a picture, Annabelle?" The girl watched silently as Maxim settled on a photo on his smartphone. He turned the large screen around so she could see. "This is Hazel Cunningham. She's not as old as you. She's only eight."
Annabelle affixed her gaze on the picture. Maxim couldn't tell if she recognized her or not. Annabelle was sullen and tough to read.
"Have you seen this girl before?"
She nodded. "I saw her on the news."
"Annabelle!" chided her mother. "You know I told you not to watch those programs."
"But they're talking about me, Mother."
Olivia pouted and shook her head in disapproval. "Dear, you'll never get over this if you continue to wallow in it."
Annabelle seemed immune to her mother's words. She nodded to acknowledge them, but it was for show.
"What about besides the news?"
asked Maxim gently. "In real life. Have you seen her?"
The girl shook her head.
Maxim put the phone away. "Did someone take you out into the woods?"
A dark expression enveloped her face. "I was alone."
"I know that's not true, Annabelle. I spoke with Bryan. And Grady, and BT, and Allison. I know you went camping in Sycamore with them for the long weekend."
Olivia almost coughed up some wine. "What's this?" She turned to her daughter, who again faced the floor.
"They were just pretending," said the girl. "I went out to the forest with them, but they just wanted to drink. They didn't really want to go."
"Drink?" asked Olivia, incredulous.
Maxim leaned forward. "Annabelle, they didn't want to go where?"
The twelve-year-old began to close up under the weight of their attention. The detective moved to the girl and took a knee, placing his hand on her shoulder.
"Annabelle, were you trying to run away again?"
"What?" Olivia scoffed and put her glass of wine on the side table. "My daughter did not try to run away. She's a victim here. It was that brat, Grady, and his friends. Isn't underage drinking against the law? Can't you do something about that?"
"Olivia, I had a talk with the families—"
"A talk?"
Maxim sighed. "I can't arrest some teenagers for drinking a few days ago. Besides, your daughter participated. It's better to focus on—"
Olivia's face went blood red. "My daughter does not drink."
The detective backed away from them and snorted. This lady was living under a rock. Maxim didn't know anything about raising kids but he knew that much.
"If your daughter ran away then I need her to talk about it. Where she went. What she saw."
"Detective," said Olivia, standing up, "I think you should go now."
"What?"
"I will not have the police badgering my daughter after her ordeal."
"I'm not trying—"
"Her psychologist doesn't want her dwelling on it. He says keeping her distracted is the best thing for now. She needs to learn how to feel comfortable again before she can confront it."
