by Jeff Shelby
She sighed and stared at me and I froze. She had her mother’s eyes and for a moment, I was jolted right back to the conversations we’d had after Elizabeth went missing. Lauren had finally reached a point where she needed to move on and she'd asked me to stop looking because she couldn't take it anymore. When I'd tried to explain why I had to keep searching, she'd looked at me with that same expression, the one that said she'd listen but that she'd already made up her mind.
I scanned the bottom of the canyon, looking for movement and to shake the memory. It was quiet as far as I could hear and I saw nothing other than brown scrub brush all the way down the slope.
I turned back to her. “Tell me about Aaron.”
She made a face, a cross between a wince and a frown. “What?”
“Why does he come out here?” I asked.
“Uh, because he likes to camp?”
I shook my head. “I don't think so. I mean, maybe he does. But why else?”
Her eyebrows dipped, her frustration with me evident. “What are you even talking about?”
I took a deep breath and let go of her elbow. “Is there anything you need to tell me?”
She put her hands on her hips, defiant. “About what? You aren't making sense.”
“About Aaron. About Tim. About anything.”
“I don't—” she began, turning as if she intended to keep walking.
“Elizabeth,” I said sharply. “I'm not screwing around here. I'm not trying to waste time. I know you want to find him, but I'm asking you some serious questions and I'm doing it for a reason. Is there anything going on with Aaron that you haven't told me?”
Her anger with me changed to something else, and she studied me a little more closely. She started to say something, then caught herself, and stopped. She shook her head. “Nothing I can think of. Honestly. But why are you asking?”
I pointed to the area we'd been in. “Down where we were, I ran across a whole slew of marijuana plants. People grow them in the canyons here so they're hard to find by the police or whoever.” I moved my hand in the direction of the bottom of the canyon. “And that noise we heard? I’m pretty sure those were gunshots. I don't know what for. Could be someone shooting birds or cans or whatever, but those were gunshots.” I paused, hoping my words were sinking in. “So, right now, I'm not feeling so great about being here. We've got drugs and we've got gunfire. That makes me pretty wary. I'm wondering if Aaron had another reason for coming here.”
Her eyes moved to the bottom of the canyon, to the direction of the plants I'd seen, then back to me. “I don't know. If he did, he never told me anything.” She shook her head, her eyes wide. “But I've never seen him smoke. He doesn't do drugs. He's not like that, I swear. I wouldn't go out with him if he was.”
I thought she was telling me the truth, but that didn't necessarily mean she knew the truth. Just because Aaron was a good guy at school didn't mean he was a good guy outside of it.
“What about Tim?” I asked, thinking of the bleached blond waiting for us back up the hill.
“What about him?”
“He smoke? Do drugs? Anything?”
She glanced back in his direction. “Not that I've ever seen.”
“What about other guys they hang out with?”
She shook her head, resolute. “No. I'm telling you, they aren't like that. I know the people at school who are into that stuff. Tim and Aaron aren't friends with them. They don't hang with them. I promise.”
I looked to the west. The sun was finally starting to move in that direction, getting us to the latter half of the day. The storm clouds from earlier had stalled, almost as if they were suspended halfway between the ocean and the desert. The heat was still stifling, but I knew it would start to cool once the rain started. If it ever got here.
I thought about Aaron. The marijuana plants. The fact that Elizabeth seemed to know nothing about his potential for being connected to growing or selling pot. She was a smart kid. Shrewd. She’d been through enough to know not to trust just anyone. She had her guard up more often than not, just like I did. I often wondered if it was because of her experiences or her genetics—or both. But regardless of its origin, it was there. So Aaron had either been really good at keeping all this from her or he was innocent.
“I'm going to go talk to Tim for a second,” I told her. “I want you to stay right here where I can see you. Clear?”
“I'll just come with you,” she said.
I shook my head. “No. You can come part of the way, but not all the way.”
“Why?”
I looked back up the hill to where he was sitting. “Because I want to talk to him alone.”
ELEVEN
“Are we leaving?” Tim asked as I came up the slope. “I didn't want to make Elizabeth mad, but I sorta feel the same way you do.”
He was perched on the boulder, still tapping the empty water bottle against his thigh. His shins were dusty and lined with scratches, his white socks now a dull gray from the sand and dirt we’d hiked through.
“Soon, I think,” I told him. “But I have a question for you first. And you need to be honest with me.”
A look of apprehension crossed his face. “Okay.”
“How many times has Aaron been here?” I asked. I knew I sounded like a broken record, but I didn’t care.
He sighed much in the same way Elizabeth had, frustrated with the same line of questioning. “I already told you.”
I stared down at him for a long moment and, to his credit, he kept his eyes on mine. “You know about my daughter?” I asked. “What she's been through?”
His face colored and his gaze shifted. He stared at the sandy path. “ You mean, about the kidnapping?”
He glanced up at me then and I nodded.
He swallowed. “Yeah. I mean, everyone kind of knows. She doesn't talk about it and I've never asked her, but...it's Coronado. People know the story.”
It’s Coronado. I knew exactly what he meant by that statement. Coronado might be part of San Diego, one of the biggest cities in the state, but it had a small-town feel to it. Everyone knew everyone else. And nobody’s business was off-limits.
“Have you heard the stories about me?” I asked. “About what I had to do to get her back?”
I knew that the truth had fused itself to the rumors. I was looked at as everything from some sort of crazy person to a vigilante assassin. The stories about Elizabeth's abduction and return had been exaggerated, the result of inaccuracies spread through gossip, and we'd never made any attempt to correct them, figuring it was no one else's business but our own. She explicitly said she didn't care and she didn't want to take the time to set anyone straight. The stories also made me seem larger than life, capable of anything. Half of the things I'd supposedly done were absolute falsehoods. But we hadn't corrected those rumors, either.
Judging by Tim's fearful expression, he'd heard them, too.
He swallowed again. “Yes, sir. I don't mean to be rude, but people just talk about it because it was kind of amazing that you found her and it was such a big deal. But, yes. I've heard some different stuff.”
I squatted down in front of him, my eyes level with his. His were filled with fear and apprehension and his nostrils flared and I almost felt sorry for him. “Good. Then you understand that it would be a really bad idea to lie to me, correct?”
He nodded, but couldn't find any words.
“Okay,” I said. “So I'm going to ask you this one time and I want you to tell me the truth. Do you smoke weed?”
He looked genuinely startled by the question. “No.” Then he blinked and a rush of words burst forth. “I mean, I did. One time. Last summer. There was a party and—”
I held up my hand. “I don't care about one-time things. But you're telling me you don't smoke on a regular basis? It's not something you're into?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head vigorously, his hair shaking like a string mop. “I swear. My parents would kill me. And it m
ade me sick when I did it the one time.”
I nodded. “Okay. What about Aaron?”
He chewed on his lip for a moment, eyeing me. “He's smoked it, yeah,” he admitted. “But not like he does all the time. I don't think he has in a while, actually.”
“Why?”
He nodded toward me. “He knows Elizabeth isn't like that and she wouldn't be cool with it.”
I was glad to hear that, even though I still had the momentary urge to wring Aaron's neck.
“Does he sell?” I asked.
Tim hesitated. “Not that I know of.”
“But you just took a second to answer me,” I said. “Why?”
He brushed off his hands, knocking the gravel and dirt from them. He took a deep breath and let it out.
“I don't think he sells, okay?” he finally said. “If he does, I've never seen it and he's never told me that he does. I know who a couple of the kids at school are that deal and it's not him. But…” his voice trailed off.
I raised my eyebrows. “But what?”
His cheeks had returned to their normal color but they tinged pink. “It’s just that he’s totally flush.”
“Flush? With money?”
He nodded. “The last, I don't know, maybe six months? He's had cash. All the time. Not like stacks or anything, but he's always got cash on him. He's always buying me food and drinks at the gas station before or after we surf. Stuff like that.”
“He didn't before?”
“Not really.”
“He have a job? Something else where he'd be getting paid? Like bussing tables or someplace he'd be getting tips?”
He shook his head. “Not that I know of.”
“And you'd know?”
“Well, yeah. He's pretty much my best friend. If he was working part-time, I'd know. And I don't think he would've been able to come up here and camp if he had a job or something like that.”
He was right, on all counts. And Elizabeth would have known about a job, too. Not that she would have mentioned it to me, but if she could corroborate that part of Tim’s story, it just further solidified where I thought Aaron’s money was coming from.
“Why'd he want to come up here?” I asked. Before he could respond, I added, “I know I've asked you that already, but tell me again.”
“To camp,” he said. “That's seriously what he told me. But I really didn't want to come. I have homework and crap to do, plus I work at a restaurant weekend nights, so I had to trade shifts. This just isn't my thing.”
“But you came, anyway. Even though you had to give up your weekend, your shifts, and getting your homework done.”
“He practically begged me,” he answered. “He said he really didn't want to come up by himself. He wanted to get out of town for the weekend and told me that I'd think it was cool. He just sort of wore me down and I finally said okay. I got tired of saying no more than anything and I ran out of excuses, so I said yes.” He shrugged. “I swear that's it.”
I stood and turned around. Elizabeth was down the slope, watching us, waiting. Even from that distance, I could tell she was worried. Her body posture was a telltale sign—her back still ramrod straight, her arms folded over herself. I wondered if she was worried about finding Aaron or worried about me interrogating Tim, or worried about what I’d say when I got back to her. Probably all of those things.
I gave Tim a quick glance. His eyes were cast downward, his shoe tracing circles in the dusty earth. His shoulders were hunched over and he looked defeated.
I thought about everything Tim had told me. About himself, about Aaron, about the extra cash and the reason he’d decided to accompany his friend on the trip.
Like Elizabeth, I was pretty sure he was telling me the truth. His answers made sense, and he seemed as bewildered by the whole thing as Elizabeth did. As frustrated as I was with how the day was shaping up, I was glad that they’d both been honest with me.
Because I knew that Aaron hadn’t been honest with them.
Which meant I had to make a decision.
TWELVE
I waved Elizabeth back and her shoulders fell, but she trudged up the hillside toward us. When she reached us, her eyes were full of mistrust and irritation.
“Let me guess,” she said. “We're not looking anymore.”
“Yes and no,” I told her. “I'm going to keep looking. But you two are leaving.”
“What?” Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Why?”
It had taken me all of two minutes to decide this. It was my way of not letting my daughter down, but of getting her out of a potentially dangerous situation. I didn’t know what I’d find as I continued looking for Aaron, but my mind had already drifted to worst-case scenarios—mostly scenes of a pissed off dad finding his daughter’s good-for-nothing, dope-dealing boyfriend. And she didn’t need to stick around to see that. But there were other worries, too, about things that might be more sinister and harder to protect her from. As irrational as those fears might have been, they were still there, as much a part of me as the blood that coursed through my veins.
“Because I'm not sure what we're dealing with here,” I said. It was the safest response given the circumstances and my mood toward her boyfriend. “But you're right. We came here for a reason. To help. And if he is in trouble, we can't just leave him.”
“Yeah,” she said, the relief loud and clear in her voice. “So let's keep going.”
I shook my head. “No. Not you two. I've seen enough out here that I'm not comfortable with you being here.”
“Dad, come on. Stop.”
I turned to Tim. “I told Elizabeth, but I didn't tell you. I asked about the weed because I found marijuana plants where I was looking. Rows of them, planted on purpose, not far from where we are now. And those noises down at the bottom of the canyon? Those were gunshots, I think.”
Tim just nodded, which confirmed my earlier suspicions: he’d recognized that sound, too.
“Is that your truck up in the lot or Aaron's?”
“It's mine.”
“Okay,” I said. “So you guys can hike back out and drive home. When I'm done here, I'll come back.”
“You have to be kidding me,” Elizabeth said. “I'm not doing that.”
“I'm not kidding you at all,” I said. “I'm trying to be smart here.” As much as I hated sending her off alone, I knew that was the better option.
She folded her arms across her chest. “I'm not going.”
“Elizabeth, if—”
“I'm not going,” she repeated. “It makes zero sense, no matter what you think is going on with Aaron. More sets of eyes mean we can cover more area. And if you're so worried about my safety, then I'm safer with you than not with you.” She eyed me, her eyes stormy, her mouth set in a tight line. “Don't act like that's not true. I know that's what you think.”
It was difficult to argue with her logic. I couldn't deny that I was a hoverer. She and I both knew it. After what we'd been through, I wasn't sure I knew how to behave any other way. I tried to give her her own space, but I was probably doing it with a side-eyed glance, always watching. What I was asking her to do was different than anything else I'd ever suggested to her since she'd been back. I was telling her to go somewhere without me in order to be safer. That was decidedly off-message.
“I don't want to argue with you,” I said to her. “I think it's best if you both go and let me see what I can find out.”
“This isn't an argument,” she said. “We aren't arguing because I'm not leaving. If Tim wants to leave, he can go. But I'm staying.”
Tim looked much like a deer in the headlights, his head moving back and forth between us, afraid to speak, unsure which side to align himself with.
“You need to trust me,” I said.
“I do,” she said. “So I'm staying with you. Because I know you'll look for Aaron and because I know you'll keep us safe from whatever it is you're worried about.”
Her impersonation of Lauren was uncanny. Ca
lm, reasonable, refusing to even engage in what I was asking. She'd already made her decision and the only way I was going to get her to leave was if I carried her to the car. But if I did that, I'd have made her twice as angry because not only would I have physically removed her, but it would also cut into the time she wanted to use looking for Aaron.
Maddening.
I scratched at the back of my neck for a moment, stymied by my daughter and by my own indecision.
She stared at me.
Tim just sat there, waiting for someone to tell him what to do. He wasn't putting up a fight. He was going to do whatever he was told. I wished Elizabeth would follow suit.
I glanced at her. She stared coolly at me, her arms still folded, her hip jutted out. She’d pulled her hair back at some point during our search, looping it loosely with an elastic hair tie, and she’d stowed her sunglasses in her shorts pocket—one lens peeked out. She’d never looked more like her mother.
I checked my watch and sighed. I knew I was being a pushover. Spineless. I knew I should follow through and get her out of there. I knew it was my responsibility to be a parent to her, to make the hard decisions she wasn’t capable of making.
But I was tired. Tired of being a single parent and tired of missing my dead ex-wife and tired of constantly worrying that I was screwing up my daughter’s life, especially when it felt like I’d already cornered the market in that department.
She watched me, her expression veering somewhere between resigned and hopeful.
“Alright,” I finally said. “We'll go for a few more hours. But if we're going to continue, then when I say we're done, we're done. No arguments, no whining, no pushback.”
She nodded. There was no triumphant smile, no gloating. “I know. I get that we can't look in the dark.”
“Do you?” I asked. “Because before, you got a little bent when I said we'd stop at dark.”
“I'll stop when you say,” she said. “And I won't fight. I promise.”
I wasn't sure I believed her. She had too much of her mother in her…and too much of me, too. But I knew that she wasn't going to budge and standing there doing nothing didn't make much sense for anyone. I momentarily wished that I'd said no to going in the first place.