The Search for Skylar

by J. R. Tate

  “I heard his truck pull up and it was about time for a cigarette, so I stepped outside and burned one. He was sort of yelling at her about something. I think he was mad because she had gotten there before him. She was out on the porch. Then he took her phone away and that completely pissed her off. I think she even cried. They argued a bit more and by that time, I went back inside. It was none of my business and frankly, I was annoyed by it. Next thing I know, he’s leaving again. That truck of his is loud, so it’s not hard to miss. It’s got a diesel engine in it, you know?”

  “And you didn’t hear anything else after that? No one else came? There was no yelling or a struggle?”

  Mr. Johnson thought about it for a second. “Nope. I hopped in the shower, so that doesn’t mean nothing did happen.”

  Garza wasn’t sure if he believed the shower thing or not, but it didn’t matter. “When Mr. Wright left again, did you look out the window? Was anyone else in his truck with him?”

  “I didn’t look out. But he did leave in a hurry.”

  Detective Garza wrote it down. It was a bit more detailed than yesterday, but no new information had been provided. He thanked the man for his time and he and Detective Milson went back outside. He wasn’t quite ready to leave – he wanted to do some looking around. They didn’t have a search warrant, so he was just going to walk the perimeter. After all, the last place Skylar Wright had been seen was there, so technically it was a crime scene.

  He went around the side of the duplex and to the back alley. Stopping, he spotted something metallic and shiny a few feet away and he pointed at it, getting Detective Milson’s attention.

  Picking it up, he couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s a smashed up cell phone. Could it be Skylar’s?”

  Detective Milson took it from him. “Can’t get it to turn on, but at least it is something.”

  “Definitely doesn’t look good for her. If she did just runaway, she wouldn’t have left it behind. How many girls that age would go somewhere without their phone? It’s practically glued to their hand.”

  He strode to the dumpster and lifted the lid. Cases like these were bittersweet. The longer a child was missing, the more unsettling it was. But at the same time, finding them dead was awful too, but at least it provided closure and something they desperately needed – more evidence.

  “Let’s take that phone back to the lab and see what we can pull from it.” Detective Garza closed the lid and pursed his lips. “We’ve got ourselves a little mystery going on here.”

  ***

  Mary got back to Charlie’s house around eight that evening. Parking her car beside his truck, she closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. His living room light was on, but the rest of the house was dark. She wasn’t sure what she’d walk into. He was pretty upset before she left to cover at work, and felt guilty for leaving him, but at the same time, it felt like he might need a little space.

  Slamming her car door, she nodded toward the man next door. He was sitting on his porch, smoking a cigarette, and she felt like a side show attraction the way he was staring at her. It was like her every move was being watched, but she tried not to let it bother her. Maybe she was just paranoid. Charlie was allowed to have friends over. Cassie was probably aware of everything, and though she thought she could use it against him, Mary had to believe that it would never stand up in the custody battle.

  She couldn’t let Cassie intimidate her. In fact, Mary had known Charlie longer than Cassie had, if his ex-wife wanted to get technical about it.

  Stepping toward the front door, she heard the low murmur of the TV on the other side. The door was locked, so she mashed the doorbell. There was no sound of footsteps on the other side, just the TV. Opening the screen door, she knocked, rapping her knuckles on the hard wood.

  “Charlie, open up. It’s me, Mary.” Maybe he feared it was the police coming to harass him again, or Cassie, there to point her finger at him.

  She stepped back and waited, and still didn’t hear any footsteps. He had told her where the extra key was hidden, and though it wasn’t very long ago, she had to stop and think about it for a moment. Making sure his neighbor wasn’t looking, she lifted the flowerpot on the windowsill to the right of the door, relieved to find the key.

  “Charlie, I’m coming in.”

  Unlocking the door, she went inside. No one was in the living room, despite the fact that the TV was on. Walking to the kitchen, she immediately noticed the empty bottle of booze he had pulled out when she was at his house earlier. Picking up the bottle, she fought back the emotion. He deserved a breakdown, but it still wasn’t an easy thing to witness.

  Putting it back on the table, she went down the hallway, flicking the light on to see. He was sitting on the floor in his bedroom, gripping his phone so tight that his knuckles were white. Sweat covered his brow and his hair was plastered to his forehead.

  Looking up at her, he swiped the back of his hand against his eyes in an attempt to hide the tears, but it didn’t help. His eyes were swollen and red and there was no way he could mask that he had been crying.

  Sliding down the wall beside him, Mary got a glimpse at his phone screen. A picture of Skylar was on it. She was at the beach and her vibrant smile was contagious.

  “Is that from this summer?” Mary pointed at it.

  Charlie nodded and glanced at her. “Yeah.”

  She could smell whiskey on his breath. The bottle was over half full earlier. “She’s so beautiful, Charlie.”

  “Thanks for not… for not…” he snapped his fingers as he tried to talk. His words slurred and he could barely keep his eyes open. “For not speaking of her in past tense.”

  “Of course not. I wouldn’t do that.” It killed Mary to see him like this. The pain he was feeling, the emotions he was going through, and the worry that plagued him were something she couldn’t even comprehend. He was lost and he needed some form of an escape. Sadly, tonight, he chose drinking.

  Swiping through the phone, he stopped at another one of him and Skylar. It was a selfie, and Skylar was leaning over his shoulder as he held the phone out, both of their smiles wide.

  “That’s a good one of you two.”

  “The last one we took together. A few weeks back,” Charlie replied as he tossed the phone aside. “You don’t… Mary… You don’t have to be here.” He spread his hands and tried to push himself off of the floor, but failed miserably.

  “Stop saying that, Charlie. You know I’m going to be here for you.” She helped him to a standing position and he looked nauseated as he wobbled, like he was just learning to walk.

  “The cops think I did it. So does Cassie. So do my neighbors.” He took a step forward, and had to brace himself on the dresser to keep balance.

  Mary took his arm to help, though she had no idea where he wanted to go. “What makes you say that, Charlie?”

  He started toward the door, but backtracked to the bed, sitting on the edge of it. Ducking his head, he closed his eyes and laughed. “Shit, the world is spinning.” The room fell silent and finally, he lifted his head again, making eye contact with her. “The cops came by and… well you know. Asked me questions.” He raked his hands through his hair. “But then…” Wagging his finger, he smiled though it wasn’t a happy one. “Then they came back and talked to the guy next door.” Pointing toward the wall that separated the duplex, Charlie’s speech was slower than usual and his posture slumped, like he’d fall back onto the bed at any second.

  “That could be a good thing, Charlie.”

  “How so?”

  “It means they’re investigating and not sitting at the station. They are taking this seriously.”

  Looking at her from the corner of his eye, he scoffed. “I was the last one seen with her. I left her alone. I have no alibi. I’m in the middle of a fucking custody battle with Cassie. Of course they’re gonna think I took her!” His body finally won the battle, and he lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. A stray tear fell down the side of
his face. “Do you think… think I’d be capable of killing my daughter?” He didn’t look at Mary and the question lingered between them.

  “Never. I’d never think that about you, Charlie.” Lying beside him, Mary propped herself up on her elbow and faced him.

  “Well that makes two of us.”

  Mary smoothed her hand down the side of Charlie’s face and clasped her hand in his. Closing his eyes, he relaxed into the bed. He was too far gone at the moment for her to be able to say anything to aid in making him see things differently. This was his initial breakdown, and Mary expected it. She had to make sure that it didn’t become a habit and that he wouldn’t completely lose it.

  “You’re the only friend I have, Mary.” His eyes popped open and he returned the favor, cupping her cheek in his hand. She leaned into his touch and it felt good, despite the situation they were in. For a split second, everything else seemed like a bad dream, only it wasn’t. This was a reality she wished they could escape from. “I’m sorry if I seem ungrateful.”

  “You don’t,” Mary replied, tightening her grip on his other hand. “Get some rest and sleep this off. Tomorrow is a new day.”

  “Stay here again, please? I don’t want to be alone.”

  “Of course, Charlie. I’ll be right here.”

  She helped him on his side and pulled the covers around him. Within a few seconds, he had dozed off. His breathing grew deep and he relaxed into the pillow. She wasn’t tired yet, so she grabbed the TV remote from the nightstand and turned it to some news, keeping the volume low, though he was intoxicated enough that a horse running through wouldn’t wake him.

  Stopping on a local station, her heart skipped a beat when she saw the headline about Skylar missing. There was a quick interview with a couple of detectives, but they didn’t release much information. The reporter’s questions made Mary sick to her stomach, and she glanced at Charlie to make sure he hadn’t woken up to hear it.

  There were questions about Charlie possibly having a motive to do this, followed by questions about his personal life. And the cherry on top of it all was Cassie, front and center, spouting off anything she could to the media, enjoying her moment in the spotlight. She looked strung out and insane, and didn’t even hesitate when it came to throwing Charlie under the bus.

  “Can you tell us more about your ex-husband?” One of the reporters in the back yelled out, pushing forward in hopes to get the exclusive.

  Cassie looked right into the camera, a twinge of a smile on her lips, though it didn’t liven up her dead gaze. “He’s been different since the divorce. He’s threatened me that he’ll take the kids and will never let me see them. When he found out I was fighting for full custody, he lost it. He came over, screaming at me. I feared for my safety. Skylar’s disappearance is just the beginning. I hope we find her. I hope he hasn’t hurt her.”

  Mary was infuriated. She should have turned it off, but it was like looking at a bad car wreck – she had to see what happened. More reporters yelled out questions, but the detective stood in front of Cassie, shutting them down. Mary watched on, but turned the TV off when they transitioned to another story. Could Charlie get Cassie for slander? How could Cassie lie about him, even if the relationship was over?

  Leaning her head back against the headboard, Mary tried not to let the anger get the best of her. It’s what Cassie wanted – to get under their skin and it was working. It’d be a matter of time before Charlie would hear about this, and that is when the shit would really hit the fan.

  Turning the lamp off, she snuggled under the covers, feeling Charlie’s body warmth next to her. The bed smelled like him – a hint of musk and leather, and she buried her face in the pillow. She tried to keep her distance. The bed was big enough that she could stay away, but she found herself scooting closer and wrapping her arms around his chest, pulling him in for a hug. His back rested into her and she matched her breathing to his. His hands rested on top of hers, his callused palms holding on for dear life.

  “Tomorrow is a new day, Charlie,” Mary whispered into his ear. It wasn’t the first time she had said it, and she hoped whatever happened, it would eventually bring good news.

  “Uh huh,” he murmured, his body relaxing again.

  Sleep was going to be impossible for Mary, but she had no plan to get up. Charlie was resting, and that’s all that mattered. The warm embrace between them was comforting, and she was grateful for the beautiful friendship they shared. She would do everything in her power to protect him because he would do the same for her if the situation were reversed. She had to do something about Cassie, though at the moment, Mary wasn’t sure what that something was.

  Chapter Six

  Charlie’s head was pounding. It felt like someone was inside with a hammer, slamming against his skull. Turning over in bed, he glanced at the alarm clock. It was a little past eight AM, and he couldn’t recall how he even got in bed. His memory flashed like small epiphanies, and he remembered Mary being there.

  Sitting up, he cringed. It was like a nail was being driven right between his eyes, and in between his shoulder blades were tense. A hot shower and a good massage sounded amazing. His stomach growled when he smelled the bacon frying in the kitchen, but the hunger was replaced by nausea when he stood up. Ambling to the bathroom, he leaned over the toilet and hurled what little he had in his stomach. The acid burned all the way up, and he dry heaved, feeling the lack of moisture on his tongue.

  Kicking the door shut, he didn’t want Mary to hear him barfing. After his body had enough, he stood at the sink and cupped some water in his hand, drinking it down like he had just spent weeks in the desert. Pouring out three Advil, he swallowed them with another handful of water. Throwing up did help, and when the scent of bacon wafted in his nostrils again, the hunger pang came back.

  He brushed his teeth and washed his face in an attempt to feel somewhat like a human. Glancing in the mirror, he didn’t like the reflection staring back at him. He was in desperate need of a shave and the black circles under his eyes were haunting.

  Mary was at the kitchen sink, gazing out of the window when he finally decided to make an appearance. The coffee caught his eye, and he poured a huge mug full of piping hot liquid, savoring it as he drank it before it even had a chance to cool down. It was the perfect medication for a hangover.

  “Good morning, Charlie. You feeling better today?”

  “How much did I drink?” he asked, though he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer to it.

  She pointed to the empty bottle of whiskey on the table. “However much you had in there. I think it was more than half.”

  Charlie nodded and immediately regretted it. It felt like his brain was sloshing inside of his head. “Thanks for cooking breakfast. It smells good.”

  “You need to get some food in your stomach. You had a pretty rough night.”

  He ignored her observation and slipped on his shoes. “I’m gonna go grab the paper. I’ll be right back.”

  “Charlie, wait!” Mary stood in the way, stopping him.

  “What?”

  “Eat first. I’ll go get it. Your eggs are getting cold.” She motioned toward his plate with the spatula.

  “I need some air. I’ll get it. It’ll take two seconds, Mary.”

  Sidestepping her, he tried not to think too much about how weird she was acting. The sun was bright, elevating his headache, and he ducked the gaze of his neighbor as he got the paper from the driveway. What was up with that guy? Was he always on the porch?

  Unwrapping it from the rubber band, another bout of nausea hit him blindside when he saw the headline.

  Local child missing – Skylar Marie Wright, Age 14. Charlie Wright, father, labeled as Person of Interest

  “What the…” Charlie said, hurrying back inside. Any desire to eat breakfast had faded, and he slammed the front page down on the table. “Is this why you didn’t want me to get the paper?”

  Mary sat down and sipped her coffee. “I saw a ne
ws report last night after you had fallen asleep, but there was no mention of being a person of interest. It was Cassie being interviewed by the media. But that was it.”

  “That was it? What did she say, Mary?” Charlie tried hard not to get upset, but how did it go from just being checked out to being a person of interest?

  “She just said that you were angry about the custody battle and threatened her. She…” Mary stopped herself, looking up at him. “She said that you threatened to take the kids and never let her see them.”

  Charlie sat down beside Mary and read the article. There was a mention of Skylar’s smashed cell phone being recovered in his alley, as well as him allowing her to stay home alone. What they had against him didn’t look good, though there was no real evidence.

  “I’m screwed,” Charlie said. “I know I didn’t do this but what they wrote here would make anyone question it.”

  “Being a person of interest just means they’re looking into you. They don’t have anything on you,” Mary said. “You gotta believe in the justice system. The truth will come out. Skylar will be found.”

  “Dead or alive?” Charlie asked, the question coming out harsher than he had anticipated. “Her smashed cell phone proves she didn’t just run away like the detectives were shooting for. She would’ve never left her phone behind. Someone took my little girl, Mary. And now everyone thinks it was me.”

  Mary looked at him, her eyes wide. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

  “I appreciate you staying last night. I don’t remember much, but…” He stood up and paced. “But you being there beside me in the bed felt good. I meant it when I said you’re the only friend I have.”

  “And I’m not going anywhere, Charlie.”

  Grabbing his keys, he slipped his baseball cap on and his coat. “I gotta get to the bottom of this.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To talk to Cassie. It starts with her. You’re welcome to tag along if you want, but I understand if you want to hang back.”