She shrugged. She hated admitting to anything that couldn’t be directly witnessed, tested, or dissected.
“What’s GPD’s operations plan?”
“We’re organizing a search party tomorrow morning.”
“Seems early for that.”
She nodded. “Like I said, the Chalmerses are very important people.” She sat back in her chair, her plate now empty. No matter the case, my mother managed to keep her appetite. “That was delicious. You added a bit of garlic to the sauce?”
“Just for you.” She was trying to change the subject. We knew each other’s tells too well. “So, where’s the search being held?”
“Paynes Prairie.”
That seemed grim. Dead bodies showed up in the swamps of Paynes Prairie more often than anyone would like to admit. The muck made for easy disposal, at least temporarily, and the tall marsh grasses meant you couldn’t get a good look from above. The prairie stretched on for miles, so it was hard to search the whole thing. Plus the alligators and water moccasins were strong deterrents. I shivered involuntarily.
“That was the last signal from his cell phone. We think he may have thrown it out the window on his way out of town. That’s the hope, at least,” Mom explained.
“I’m coming,” I told her. Yesterday I’d sworn to Mason, in my own way, that I’d look out for Dare. I imagined Dare making that call to his parents and searching their property, frantic to find his brother. I knew exactly what that felt like, and if there was any way I could help Dare, I wanted to try.
“You already know my feelings about it,” Mom said.
“I’m still coming. The whole school will probably be there.”
“Hopefully we won’t find anything more than a phone,” she said. “But if we do… if there’s any proof whatsoever of foul play, you’re off the case. Understand?”
“I understand your concern.”
“And you’re in agreement?” she persisted.
If something bad had happened to Mason, of course I was going to ask more questions. This wasn’t like her other cases where the victim was unknown to me. This was the twin brother of someone I cared about, a lot. This one was personal.
“Seconds?” I asked.
She sighed, which I took to mean this discussion was on hold for the time being. She handed me her plate. “Just a little, and another piece of garlic bread too.”
Lucky for me I’d figured out a long time ago, the way to my mother’s heart was through her stomach.
Chapter 3
WE ASSEMBLED at the southernmost point of Newnans Lake, where Hawthorne Road met with 2082, just south of Kate’s Fish Camp. It was just before dawn as people shuffled out of their cars and trucks; several others biked there as well on the Hawthorne bike trail. Cups of coffee were distributed as folks mumbled greetings to each other in the violet wash of predawn. We watched the sun rise over the marsh like blood seeping from a wound and woke a flock of red-winged blackbirds that zigzagged away, chattering their complaints at the sky. If it weren’t for the somber mood, you’d almost think we’d gathered there for an early morning hike.
I thought we’d comb the swamps between 441 and I-75—the two most likely routes out of town—but Mom said this was where they’d determined the cell phone last communicated with the tower before the battery was removed or the phone died.
GPD told us we were looking for Mason’s phone; they probably didn’t want to say we were also potentially searching for a body.
Rangers from the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission passed out waders and snake boots for members of the search parties, but there were only enough for a fraction of the people who’d come out to help, especially since most of the upperclassmen of Eastview High were there. For those of us who didn’t have protection, FWC suggested we grab a big stick and knock the ground every couple of steps to “scare off the critters.” The word critters made it sound like soft, furry mammals, not venomous snakes or twenty-foot alligators with bone-crushing jaws. Literally half a gator’s length was its mouth.
My mother was with the operations unit, poring over aerial maps on a foldout table, so I joined the nearest group of classmates to form a search party. While we waited for supplies and further instruction from GPD, I overheard two girls talking about Mason’s disappearance.
“Bet he ran off with that stripper from Café Risqué,” one said. I recognized her as Tameka Thomas, a cheerleader from Daniela’s squad.
“Is that what the fight on Friday was about?” said the other girl. My ears perked up at the mention of a fight. According to my mom, Daniela claimed she hadn’t seen Mason since the pep rally, and she certainly didn’t mention an argument between them.
“Mmm-hmm,” Tameka continued. “Mason’s fine as hell, but you know he’s not faithful. Daniela just doesn’t know how to handle him. I’d keep that boy sat-is-fied.” Tameka made a slapping gesture and ground her hips in a motion that made my eyes go wide. The girls at my high school were more sex-crazed than the boys.
“When was the fight?” I asked the girls. They both turned my way and studied me like I was a bug and they were deciding whether to ignore me or squash me.
“Well, if it isn’t old Dick Tracy,” Tameka sneered. My SAT sting had burned a couple of the cheerleaders. They called me Dick for a while whenever they caught me in the halls. Hey, Dick. How’s it going, Dick? Screwed anyone over lately, Dick? One time a whole hive of them swarmed me outside the gymnasium. It was pretty terrifying. “Are you on the case then, Dick?” Tameka asked, hands on her hips, coppery brown eyes studying me acutely.
“If the fight really happened, it could help with the investigation,” I offered as my defense for being nosy. “I just want to help Dare find his brother.”
Tameka pursed her lips and glanced over at her friend, who only shrugged. “Well, not that it’s any of your business, but I saw them fighting outside the wrestling room after cheer practice. I didn’t hear what they were saying because I don’t put my nose where it doesn’t belong, like some people.”
I sincerely doubted that, but instead of arguing with her, I only sighed and waited for her to get in her digs.
“But, then again, a girl’s response to finding out her man’s been cheating is pretty universal, so if I had to take a guess….” Here Tameka paused for effect, curling her upper lip a little and bobbing her head. “I’d guess she was giving him the business for messing around.”
“What does that look like?” I needed more detail.
Tameka smiled at her friend. “Like this.” She stalked up to me and shoved me back by my shoulders so I stumbled a little. Then she stuck her index finger right up in my face and pointed at me accusingly. “You good-for-nothing, lying, cheating dog. You think I’m stupid? Do you think I’m stupid? I saw that text in your phone. I know you were with someone else last night. Who was she? Who the hell was she? Oh no, son, don’t you come at me now acting like you looooove me. You don’t love me. You love yourself, you selfish sonovabitch. I hope you get a disease from that ho. Now, get out of my face before I beat you senseless, boy. I can’t even stand to look at you.”
She stuck her flattened palm in my face, spun on her heels, and walked back over to her friend.
“Wow,” I said, reeling from her very visceral performance. My heart was racing and my palms were sweating. “End scene. That was brilliant.” Where had I picked up that expression? Probably the drama department.
“Yeah.” She brushed her manicured nails against her shirt and blew on their tips. They were painted alternating green and white, our school colors, just like Daniela’s. I remembered the jacket Daniela was wearing during the pep rally—Mason’s letterman jacket.
“Was Daniela still wearing Mason’s jacket?” I asked Tameka.
She shook her head. “She took it off and shoved it at him, even though it was cold that day. That’s how I knew she was pissed. She loves that damn jacket.”
It was true. Now that Tameka mentioned it, I rarel
y saw Daniela without Mason’s jacket, even on warm days. It was like the skin from her kill—proof to all her rivals that Mason Chalmers had been claimed.
At that moment a sheriff’s deputy approached us and gave us all blue nurse’s gloves and several two-gallon Ziploc bags. “If you find anything—and I mean anything—put it in a bag, seal it, and radio in.” He glanced at the lot of us, seemed to have misgivings, and then shoved the walkie-talkie at me. “You’re the group leader,” he said.
I could tell from Tameka’s expression, she didn’t like that. “Because he’s a boy?” she asked, shoulders squared, head tilted like a parrot. I felt the need to correct her that I was a man, not a boy, but I didn’t wish to feed her ire. The deputy looked caught—he wasn’t much older than us. Likely this was his first experience with organizing a search party.
“No, it’s just because—” he started to say.
“You can be leader.” I cut him off and gave Tameka the radio. “You’ve got the biggest mouth anyway.”
Her eyes went wide and her mouth opened a little like she was about to retort. Then she smiled. “All right then, Dick. As team leader, I’m making you the gator getter. You walk ahead with that big stick of yours and scare off the critters.”
I chuckled at her impersonation of the ranger. “My name’s Charlie, by the way.”
She smirked and shoved my shoulder playfully. “Yeah, I know, but you look more like a Dick to me.”
FOUR HOURS and two water breaks later, we’d found two gators—both midsized—one tennis shoe, several plastic bags and bottles, and a pair of tattered underwear, men’s. We bagged everything except the critters. Around lunchtime several pizza pies were brought in, and our group took a break to refuel. Over the course of the morning, I’d earned some respect in Tameka’s eyes, especially after rescuing her from a gator that hissed at us from the side. We weren’t attacked, but Tameka had to be soothed after that encounter. No one in our group found a cell phone or, thankfully, a body.
“What was it you were saying about an… exotic dancer from Café Risqué?” I asked Tameka while we drank our cans of soda provided by GPD. She was using my stick to scrape the muck off her shins and shoes while saying nasty on loop. I tried to sound casual about it, but I doubted I was very convincing.
Tameka shrugged. “I heard Mason went there a couple of times this summer.”
“By himself?”
“No, with someone from the wrestling team. Big white dude with red hair.”
“Peter Orr?” I often saw the two of them palling around.
“Maybe. Daniela was pissed. They broke up for a couple days, but it didn’t last.”
“Don’t you have to be eighteen to get in?”
She gave me a disbelieving look. “Have you ever been to Café Risqué?”
“No,” I squawked, indignant she’d think that of me.
“It’s a dive, Dick. It’s like a Denny’s with strippers.”
“What does the quality of the food have to do with anything?”
She rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful. “They’ll let anyone in there. You could probably get in with a Bed Bath & Beyond coupon. Mason probably just splashed the cash.”
Bribing your way into a strip club; that sounded like Mason’s modus operandi. I considered telling my mom about it, but I didn’t see how a couple of visits to a strip club were relevant to the investigation, and I didn’t want to send her on a wild goose chase.
“You really think Mason was cheating on Daniela?” I asked. In our short time together, I’d come to rely on Tameka for her insider’s perspective. She had her finger on the pulse of Eastview High. And I appreciated that she was willing to share her insights with me.
Tameka chewed on her lip. “That or she was pregnant.”
Pregnant? That could certainly cause an argument, especially if Mason said something stupid, like “Well, whose is it?” I noticed Mr. and Mrs. Chalmers standing across the highway where GPD had set up operations between a mobile lab and the K-9 unit. The dogs were no doubt here to sniff out a body. Mr. Chalmers appeared dressed for a business meeting with everything but the tie, while Mrs. Chalmers wore stylish jeans, an oversized sweater, and tennis shoes. Her dark, graying hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and there was no makeup on her face. Dare was there too and looked as distraught as my mother described him yesterday. His hair was a mess, and he was gesturing wildly to the same deputy who’d tried to make me team leader.
A few feet away, Joey Pikramenos had his arms crossed, a UF ball cap pulled low on his brow. If Daniela was around, I didn’t see her, but I did see Peter Orr in Ms. Sparrow’s search party, along with Coach Gundry. Ms. Sparrow wore waders and a field hat with a sun shield, probably her own equipment. She taught science at Eastview and was the sponsor for the campus Environmental Service Program. Coach Gundry had his green Eastview High athletic pants rolled up to his knees, exposing his very pale and strangely hairless calves. They looked like two bowling pins.
My mom said Mason had gone to practice on Friday before he went missing. Someone should talk to Peter Orr and Coach Gundry to see what they knew.
As if my thinking of her had summoned her, my mom exited the mobile lab, spotted the confrontation happening between Dare and the deputy, and headed over to them. She placed a hand on the deputy’s shoulder, essentially dismissing him, then turned her attention to Dare, doing her best to calm him. He looked to be on the verge of tears. Mom caught me staring from across the road. Either she nodded slightly for me to join them or I only imagined it, but I told Tameka I was going to check on him.
“Go easy on him, Dick. He’s had a rough couple of days.”
I frowned and handed her my stick. “Good luck with the gators.”
She took it reluctantly. “It was your funk keeping them away.”
I suspected she was joking but slyly sniffed my pits anyway—not too terrible—then headed across the street. There were officers directing cars to go around the hordes of people, even though there wasn’t much traffic. Hawthorne was a four-lane highway, but 2082 was an old country road that split from the highway and led to the ghost town of Rochelle, not exactly a destination.
The Chalmerses lived on Newnans Lake, not far from here by my estimation, but this wasn’t the route between their home and the high school. This was at least a mile out of the way. My mind turned over the possible reasons for Mason to be traveling this way on a Friday night, but I couldn’t come up with one.
And why toss his phone out here at all? Why not just leave it at home or pawn it for some extra cash or, if he really wanted to throw us off his trail, put it on a bus. Either Mason wanted us to think something bad had happened to him….
Or something bad happened to him.
My mother was speaking to Dare in soothing tones when I arrived on the scene. She assured him they were doing everything within their power and there was no reason to panic. “We have no proof of foul play,” she said, which was really the best she could offer. Gut feelings didn’t translate to a crime being committed.
“Hey, Dare.” I touched his shoulder lightly. Mom nodded and said she had to get back to the lab, clearly passing off the responsibility of calming Dare to me. Dare swallowed thickly and wiped the tears from his eyes. I’d only ever seen him cry before on stage, and those were crocodile tears. These ones made his eyes red and puffy. They looked very real and painful.
“How’s it going, buddy?” I asked.
He shook his head and lifted his face to look at me. With his ashen complexion, greasy hair, and bloodshot eyes, he looked completely lost.
“It’s not good, Charlie. Not good at all.”
I didn’t know if he meant for himself or his brother. Maybe both. I instinctively took him in my arms. He was a little taller than me but not as thick. His bones felt too sharp as he crumpled against me like a brittle leaf, leaning heavily on my shoulders. I hugged him tighter, knowing how desperate he must be to be held. After my father died, an officer came to
the house to give us the news. I needed someone to hold me, and my mom was too much of a wreck herself. The officer, Sergeant Tallis, held me for a while until I could stand again. It wasn’t like my dad hugging me, but it was what I needed at the time.
Joey lifted his head and watched us like a dog guarding its master. His face was splotchy and red—probably the reason for the hat. He looked like he could use a hug too. After another heavy moment, Dare gathered himself up and wiped his arm across his face, snuffling a bit. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be sorry. This is stressful. And scary.”
“Yeah.” Dare squinted and took a look around. “All these people came out here for Mason.”
“And for you too.”
He smiled, or tried to. “People really care, huh?”
“Of course they do.”
“You been out here all morning?” His eyes crinkled in the corners like he felt bad for me.
“Yeah. I’m with the Eastview pep squad.” I nodded in their direction. Tameka turned away like she hadn’t been watching us.
“I hope they’re treating you well.”
“They’re fine. We found a couple of gators but not much else.”
“That’s good, I guess,” Dare said.
I nodded, even though not really. Clues were always a good thing, even if you didn’t like the outcome.
“I should join a crew.” Dare glanced around with a wild and desperate yearning in his eyes, almost like he was searching for Mason. I placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Have you slept lately, Dare?”
He shook his head. “Not much. I can’t sleep in our house… knowing Mason is… out there….” He drifted off and cleared his throat again, seeming to disappear inside his mind for a moment. My mother said he’d been having trouble finishing his sentences.
I suspected he hadn’t eaten anything either. He wasn’t in any kind of shape to join a search party, and if Mason’s body did turn up, I wouldn’t want Dare to be the one to discover it. I surveyed the field. There were plenty of people out here already—GPD, the Alachua County Sheriff’s department, FWC park rangers, parents, teachers, and most of our high school student body as well. They wouldn’t miss me. Someone needed to take care of Dare.
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