While other parents gradually relaxed the rules they’d put into place after Taylor went missing, I ratcheted up the supervision of my children, especially Phoenix. After that stunt he’d pulled with Paisley, I was more suspicious of him than ever. He wanted me to believe that he had no other motives than to help a little girl in distress, but I wasn’t buying it. Unfortunately, I couldn’t prove that he wasn’t being truthful.
Even though it appeared that his only crime was being a stupid teenager, I couldn’t quiet the nagging voice in my head. After the Paisley incident, I made him account for every hour that he was away from home, and I often double-checked to make sure he wasn’t lying.
“What are your plans for after school today?” I asked Phoenix as he gobbled down his breakfast that consisted of a scrambled egg and cheese on a bagel.
“Nothing much,” he responded with his mouth stuffed.
“Could you be more specific?”
“I might stop over Dustin’s house and do some homework.”
“You might stop over Dustin’s?” I asked with the emphasis on the word might. “I need to know exactly where you’re going to be. Don’t forget to text me after you get out of school.”
He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and then made a big show of tossing the remainder of his sandwich into the trash bin before storming out of the kitchen.
“It’s time to go. You guys are going to miss your bus if we don’t speed it up,” I said grumpily.
“I have to get my backpack from my room,” he said snappishly.
Sensing the tension and not wanting to make waves, Zoe sprang up from her seat. “I have to get my backpack, too.”
“Make it snappy,” I said in a much softer tone than I’d used with Phoenix.
Sasha’s eyes bore into me as she observed my behavior. “You’re being awfully hard on Phoenix, and for no reason. He doesn’t have any behavioral issues at school or at home. He doesn’t hang out with a bad crowd and he’s not struggling with his grades. I don’t get why you’re tightening the reins on him instead of loosening them.”
“That’s the problem with the parents in this town. Everyone is slacking up instead of remaining vigilant. That monster that kidnapped Taylor is still out there, roaming free. Unlike everyone else, I don’t think that the person responsible is an outsider. It’s just a theory, but I think it’s someone we know and trust. And until the police finally bring that animal to justice, I’m going to keep tightening the reins on our children. Having them a little peeved with me for being an overbearing parent is preferable to losing them altogether.”
For an uncomfortable interval, Sasha gave me a long look, as if she realized there was something I wasn’t telling her.
I wanted to confide in her. I wished that I could share my fears and concerns about Phoenix, but I couldn’t risk the possibility of her regarding him as a menace to our community and a danger to our very household, especially if he turned out to be as innocent as he professed to be.
I drove Phoenix and Zoe to the bus stop, and once again, I reminded Phoenix to text me after school. He didn’t bother to respond, but I noticed his expression hardening.
He and Zoe bolted out of the car, both seemingly eager to get away from me. I watched as they boarded their respective buses and didn’t drive away until both buses had merged into traffic.
Sasha would pick them up after school. She didn’t openly complain, but I could tell that she was growing weary of the rigid daily routine and was particularly fed up with my authoritarian parenting style. If I didn’t want to cause a family mutiny, I would have to let up on everyone very soon.
On my way to work, while stopped at a red light, I noticed a Hertz car rental location on my right, and I was struck by the idea that I could successfully tail Phoenix if I drove a vehicle that he didn’t recognize. A minor disguise wouldn’t hurt my efforts, either.
For the remainder of the morning commute, I was less bothered than usual by bumper-to-bumper traffic. I felt optimistic about finally getting some answers to the troubling questions that kept me up late most nights.
I put in a short workday, finishing up a typical six-hour job in only four hours. I left my car in the parking lot of the work site and walked three blocks to Hertz. After signing the paper work for a tan Mazda, I left the place feeling pretty certain that I wouldn’t be easily detected. Such a nondescript car would blend into the scenery and wouldn’t stick out in Phoenix’s or anyone’s mind.
A pair of clear eyeglasses and a wide-brimmed Western-style hat that I picked up from a thrift store didn’t drastically alter my appearance, but it was enough of a disguise to prevent anyone from immediately recognizing me.
At three o’clock, my phone pinged with a text from Phoenix, letting me know that he was working on a school paper at Dustin’s house. If that text and all the other texts he had sent in the past were true, Phoenix and his friends would have to be leading the dullest lives of any of the kids in our town.
But I knew better. They’d start out at Dustin’s, playing Fortnite or some other popular video game, but when boredom set in, they’d ride their bikes to the next spot, which was frequently the local skate park.
My instinct told me that at some point, Phoenix would separate from the group, but he wouldn’t go home. He’d isolate himself at another location. In the past, Baxter’s old house had been his refuge from family and friends, the place where he conducted his secret life.
I was sure that by now he had located another private hangout, and I wanted to know where it was and what he kept hidden there.
• • •
On a narrow road behind the skate park, I sat in the rental car, which was concealed by the lush sweeping branches of tall Palo Verde trees. I watched through binoculars as talented skateboarders, bike riders, and kids on scooters put on flashy exhibitions that featured complicated tricks.
I was surprised to see how much Matthew had built up his skills, becoming proficient in backflips and tail-whips on his BMX dirt bike. Dustin and Ryan appeared to be engrossed in filming Matthew jumping the half pipe, while Phoenix was on the sidelines preoccupied with tightening his handlebars.
Once Phoenix was done, he didn’t rejoin his friends. He put his tools inside his backpack and began slowly walking his bike away from the crowd. Looking over his shoulder and making sure that he wasn’t being watched, he quickened his steps and then hopped on the seat of the bike.
Without bothering to tell his friends goodbye, he made a quick getaway, pedaling swiftly toward the entrance of the park.
There was no need for me to rush to catch up with him. The road I was on was a loop that would take me back to the main street, and if I didn’t give him a healthy head start, there was the possibility of us running into each other.
After waiting a full five minutes, I exited the park and spotted Phoenix in the distance, pedaling along Sun Valley Avenue. Instead of traveling behind him, I cruised down Daisy Grove Street, which ran parallel to Sun Valley Avenue.
Every few minutes I would turn at the cross street and make my way back to Sun Valley Avenue, keeping a safe distance from Phoenix while also watching to see if he’d make a detour. After following him for a half-mile, it was clear to me that he wasn’t headed for home. If that’s where he was headed, he would have turned left at Old Mill Street, but he didn’t.
A seasoned sleuth surely would have been amused by my amateurish tracking method, but it was working for me. As I continued to follow him, undetected, I began to feel a prick of excitement over the possibility of finally learning what my son was up to.
He was a skilled liar, but I wouldn’t accept any more untruths or excuses.
Four cars separated us and when he made a sudden sharp turn from Sun Valley Avenue to Tijera Springs Road, I knew without a doubt that he was going in the direction of Mr. Fawcett’s ranch. But I couldn’t follow him down that desolate road without being spotted by him.
Determining that it would take him about thirty or fort
y minutes of riding on the rough, unpaved road before he reached the ranch, I pulled over and parked.
And waited.
Fifteen minutes later, I eased into the flow of traffic on Sun Valley Avenue and then made the same tricky left turn that Phoenix had made onto Tijera Springs Road, an unpaved road where a sign warned: “Primitive road, no maintenance, proceed at your own risk.”
A quarter of a mile into the journey, the dirt road’s perils began to reveal themselves as I encountered sharp-tipped rocks thrust from the ground like shrapnel. Trying to avoid a succession of potholes was like navigating a minefield. I slowed down to a crawl, and luckily I wasn’t in a hurry.
Riding a dirt bike, Phoenix was much better prepared for the unforgiving terrain than I was. Had I thought about the possibility of him visiting the ranch, I would have selected an SUV instead of a sedan. Clearly, the Mazda I’d rented was no match for the twists and jerks along the rocky road, but I gripped the steering wheel and persevered.
Driving at a snail’s pace allowed me to take in the majestic desert landscape that was studded with tall saguaro cactus, grassy pastures dotted with colorful wildflowers, and unobstructed mountain views in all directions.
Upon reaching my destination, I left the oversized Western hat inside the car and left the car on the side of the road, and began walking to the ranch. Wanting to avoid Mr. Fawcett and any workers that might be around, I took a back trail. On the trail I noticed narrow tire tracks made from a bicycle and I assumed that Phoenix, not wanting to encounter Mr. Fawcett, either, had taken the same route.
At the end of the short trail, I found myself behind the stable. I could hear the horses, but the windows were too high to take a peek to see if Phoenix was inside. With my back flush against the outer walls of the stable, I moved stealthily to the front and slipped inside. Only the horses were inside, and Phoenix was nowhere to be found.
There were so many ideal hiding places on the property, I didn’t know where to begin, and my biggest worry was that someone would find me roaming around on private property. I didn’t have a prepared excuse, and as I stopped for a moment, attempting to come up with one, my attention was drawn to a shiny object on the ground, sparkling in the sunlight. It was about fifteen feet from me and when I approached it to investigate, I realized that it was only a green piece of glass, jutting from the ground. It was possibly a piece of an old beer bottle that had been tossed aside long ago.
Amazingly, the partially buried green glass was adjacent to a grassy path that cut through the wooded area on the property. On that path were bicycle tire tracks, leading me to Phoenix like a trail of breadcrumbs.
The path started out on even ground but quickly turned into a gravel and dirt incline that was so steep I found myself taking heaving breaths and breaking out in a sweat. The uphill hike was a killer quad and hamstring workout that only an adventure junkie would enjoy. I was certain that my aching muscles would require cold compresses in the morning. As I struggled to continue on the incline, I suddenly skidded downhill, and I was moving fast—so fast, that I lost my balance and rolled the rest of the way, and landed on something hard and metallic.
Feeling vulnerable on the ground, I reflexively jumped to my feet. Looking downward, I was surprised to see Phoenix’s bike lying on its side, partially hidden by tree branches and brush.
Had Phoenix fallen also? Was he lying somewhere injured with a broken bone or a concussion? Concerned, I walked a few paces and looked around, but didn’t see any sign of him. Nor did I see any man-made structures that he could hide out in. All I saw was miles and miles of wilderness.
Scratching my head, I scanned the area where he’d laid his bike down and was completely baffled as to where he could have run off to. Other than the trail that had deposited me at the bottom of a gravelly hill, there were no other discernible trails, no footprints on the ground, and no bike tracks to indicate he had ridden any farther than where I’d landed.
I was tempted to use his bike for transportation while I searched for him, but I didn’t want to risk going deep into the woods without a compass or a map. I stared down at the ground, and out of the blue, my eyes landed on a small opening in the Earth. And next to the opening was a rock.
The pieces of the puzzle quickly came together in my mind, and I moved swiftly toward the opening, lay down on my side, and peeked inside. I couldn’t see a thing; there was only darkness. Yet, sparks of exhilaration raced through my system as I realized that I was looking into the mouth of a cave.
The jagged rock that was set next to it had served as a makeshift door and had also been used to camouflage the opening. I could have walked past the cave opening a thousand times without noticing it, and I wondered if Mr. Fawcett or any of his family members were aware of the existence of the cave on the property.
Undoubtedly, there was one person who knew about it and had gained access…and that person was Phoenix.
Although I didn’t have a flashlight or even a lighter in my pocket, I squeezed into the circular opening, which was approximately four feet in diameter. I dropped down into a vast open area, and when my eyesight adjusted to the darkness, I could see that I was in a large chamber with a ceiling that appeared to be about twenty feet high. I thought it would be chilly inside the cave, but the air was thick and dry.
Taking in the sights as best I could in the darkness, I felt a creepy sensation that was followed by fear of encountering a bat, a snake, or some other deadly creature.
But those feelings of dread were replaced with awe and wonder as my eyes roved the rocky interior of the natural wonder that was potentially millions of years old. I could feel the sacredness of the environment, and I wished I was there under different circumstances.
I walked a little deeper into the cave and became aware of a dim light in the distance. Of course, Phoenix would be prepared with a flashlight or even a lantern. I crept along in the direction of the light and as the cave brightened, I was amazed by its vibrant colors and the spectrum of red, purple, yellow, and orange.
Following along a tight corridor, I was suddenly outside a smaller room. A large flashlight with a handle was set on a shelf-life ridge that protruded from the wall. Below the light, Phoenix sat on a rock formation. He appeared to be in a calm, blissful state. Unaware of my presence, he didn’t look up.
I noticed something on his lap, and his hand moved over it in a stroking movement. But in the semidarkness, I couldn’t figure out what I was actually looking at. At first I thought that an animal was in his lap, and that he was petting it comfortingly.
Sensing me standing in the crude doorway of the chamber, his head jerked around. Upon seeing me standing there, he covered his face with both hands and groaned as if in anguish.
“It’s time to talk, Phoenix.”
“I don’t want to talk! Why’re you stalking me? You shouldn’t have followed me here.” He bent over, using his torso in a desperate attempt to conceal whatever was resting on his lap.
I took steps toward him.
“Get out of here, Pops. I’m serious, you should leave!” he said pleadingly.
I jutted out my chin determinedly and slowly approached him, and then stood over him in the gloom of the cave. Racked by tears, his body shook, and I placed a hand on his shoulder and gently tugged, lifting his torso, so that I could see what he was trying to conceal.
My eyes traveled down to his lap and I clapped a hand over my mouth. He was right. The thing on his lap wasn’t something I wanted to see. In fact, it was the worst sight that I’d ever seen.
My fourteen-year-old son, who many perceived to be a normal adolescent boy, was holding the mummified corpse of Taylor Flanagan, which he had been in the act of caressing when I arrived at the rear chamber of the cave.
CHAPTER 28
Taylor’s facial features were no longer identifiable, but I recognized the Wonder Woman costume. The costume was once a vibrantly colored representation of a little girl’s desire to be a super hero, but now it was fad
ed and shabby.
My heart clenched at the wretched sight. My stomach heaved mightily, yet I managed not to throw up. Pulling myself together, I sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of my nose as I tried to come up with a plan. There had to be a way for me to help Phoenix get out of this horrible mess.
“How many others are there?”
He looked up at me, bleary-eyed, wiping away tears. “There aren’t any others.”
“Why, son? Why did you hurt an innocent little girl?” I nodded toward the dead child that was draped over his lap.
“I don’t know. It just happened,” he said as his fingers unconsciously brushed against the tufts of hair that remained on the child’s head. What he was doing, stroking her hair with his fingertips, was a barely perceptible micro-movement. But I noticed it and it triggered a feeling of rage inside of me.
“Stop touching her like that! Put her down,” I snapped, feeling as if Phoenix had drawn me into a scene of a horror movie.
He carefully laid the body on the floor of the cave and then gave me his undivided attention.
Not wanting to look at the dead body on the ground, I kept my eyes focused on his face. “What happened on Halloween? How did it happen?”
“It was an accident.”
“From the moment you made contact with Taylor, what happened? Walk me through it and don’t leave out anything.”
“I was riding my bike on Halloween night, fooling around with my friends, and I saw these two girls from school—Nikki and Sloan. They were walking with Taylor…” He paused and nodded his head toward the corpse on the cave’s floor and I winced in revulsion.
“They were taking her door-to-door…and we followed them for a while, making smart-ass comments and joking with the girls. And then we just rode around, messing with people.”
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