In the Pines

by Laura Lascarso

  How could I have slept through that?

  Hours later it seemed, Lieutenant Hartsfield and my mother entered the room, only instead of taking the chair across from me, my mother came and sat beside me. “I’m off the investigation,” she told me dispassionately. I could tell she was steeling her nerves for what was to come. “I’m here as your guardian. I want you to be honest and answer all of Lieutenant Hartsfield’s questions to the best of your ability.” Then she turned to Hartsfield. “If at any point, I determine we need a lawyer, this interrogation is over.”

  I gulped. For my mother to say that must mean there was some shred of doubt in her heart at my innocence.

  “Mom, I didn’t do anything, I swear.” Nothing criminal, at least.

  She laid a comforting hand on mine. “I know, sweetheart. Just be calm and answer the questions.”

  At that point Hartsfield took over. I could tell he was torn up a little about the task at hand, but he didn’t offer me any warmth or encouraging words, just started right in on the interrogation.

  “Start with yesterday when we saw you at the high school,” Hartsfield began. “Tell us everything about your day with Darren Chalmers. Everything—phone calls, times, what you ate, where you went. Don’t leave out any details.”

  I went through our day in painstaking detail, knowing this would not only prove my innocence, but it was also what they needed to find Dare. I was so close to the investigation now that I couldn’t be objective, especially when my mind was spinning like a centrifuge worrying that Dare might be in danger. I needed GPD to do their job, find Dare, and bring him home safely.

  Hartsfield kept making me repeat parts of my story and interrupting me to ask the same questions in a different way in an attempt to catch me in a lie. But there was nothing for me to hide.

  “And this club?” Harsfield asked, looking at his notes. “Hickey’s. How did the six of you get in when not all of you are eighteen?”

  “Dare and Daniela had been there before. The bouncer waved us in. We didn’t drink, though,” I assured him. “Just cherry cola and bottled water.” Dare wasn’t drugged. Not on my watch.

  Hartsfield asked me more questions—who we spoke to, what songs were played, when we left. Then it became time to tell Hartsfield about what happened in Dare’s bedroom, and that’s where I started messing up.

  “You said the two of you hooked up. What does that mean?”

  I concentrated on the smooth, reflective metal and the pressure of my fingertip where it pressed against it. “It means kissing and stuff.”

  “Stuff?” Hartsfield asked, unsatisfied with my ambiguity. “What’s ‘stuff’?”

  I looked at him intently. “Do we have to do this in front of my mom?”

  Hartsfield shot a questioning look at my mother, who crossed her arms and sat back a little in her chair. “I’m not leaving,” she said flatly.

  “I’m afraid you have no other choice, Charlie.” Hartsfield said stiffly.

  I narrated the scene—taking off our clothes, getting each other off, cleaning up, going to bed. I snuck a look at my mom just once, but her face was a fortress. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was playing bad cop. Hartsfield asked a few pointed questions—who climaxed first, was it consensual, did Dare seemed pleased by my performance? It helped a little to know why he was asking those questions. It wasn’t some voyeuristic perversion; he wanted to make sure I hadn’t coerced Dare into anything.

  “And what was the tone of this sexual encounter?”

  “Tone?”

  “Was it tender or rough?”

  “It was both,” I said, flummoxed. I knew how bad that sounded. “Parts of it were tender and parts were more….” I remembered the way I’d gripped his hips and ass to match his athletic humping. “It was a little bit aggressive,” I admitted.

  “Did you leave marks on his body?”

  “No—well… maybe a couple bruises.”

  Hartsfield eyed me like he was getting fed up with having to hear about my sexual exploits. He pulled a sheet of paper from his notes. On it was a diagram of a man, his front and back outlines side-by-side. “Mark on here where you might have bruised him.”

  If there was a hell, this had to be one version of it.

  With a pen I circled the areas where my fingers had dug into Dare’s flesh. If he came back to us injured, or—I didn’t even want to think about it—dead, they’d compare the marks on his body to this sheet of paper. It would look bad to any investigator and worse for a jury. I tried not to think about it. We had to find Dare.

  “Anything else I should know?” Hartsfield asked gruffly. “What’s that on your neck?”

  “Umm… I haven’t looked in a mirror since last night, so….”

  My mom peeled back my collar to reveal what I assumed was a hickey. Hartsfield called in a forensic photographer to snap a few pictures. I focused my gaze on the metal table so I wouldn’t have to look at my mother. I could feel the tension like taut ropes between us. I didn’t want to imagine the car ride home. If they let me go. I prayed they would.

  When that particular nightmare was over, Hartsfield continued with his questions.

  “And what were you wearing at the time you fell asleep?” he asked.

  “I was wearing my underwear. Boxers. Blue ones.”

  “And Dare?”

  “Nothing. He was naked.” I started to visualize it, then stopped.

  Hartsfield cleared his throat. “And what did the two of you talk about prior to falling asleep?”

  I went over our conversation again about Nathan. I told him Dare seemed a little jealous, but not seriously so. “I don’t even know that we’re together,” I told him. “Dare’s still grieving.”

  I felt like a real asshole then. On top of everything else, I’d taken advantage of Dare in his hour of need to satisfy a lusting desire I’d been harboring toward him for years. I knew he was feeling vulnerable and confused. Did I make it worse for him? Was that the reason he was now missing?

  I waited for Hartsfield’s judgment to follow, but he didn’t comment on my character. He did ask if Dare had received or made any calls.

  “I never saw him pick up his phone.” I tried to recall if I heard any bumps in the night, but I slept soundly. I couldn’t even recall dreaming.

  “I’d like to turn now to the incident that happened last year between you and Mason Chalmers.”

  My mother held up one hand. “That has no bearing on this interrogation.”

  Hartsfield gave her a patient but stern look. “Rebekah, your son is now a person of interest. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t try to establish a motive.”

  “He’s not a murderer, Jim,” she snapped.

  “It’s fine, Mom,” I assured her. “I have nothing to hide.”

  So I answered all of Hartsfield’s questions about the SAT sting and my role in bringing it down.

  “And why did you target Mason Chalmers?” Hartsfield asked.

  That word, “target,” was a loaded one, but I didn’t challenge it. “There was the obvious. He was one of the only jocks I resembled.”

  “But that’s not all?” he said.

  I shook my head. “Mason was, like, king of Eastview High, and I knew if he came forward, the whole scheme would implode. Even though Mason wasn’t the only person responsible, I wanted to take down the kingpin. That’s how he seemed in my eyes.”

  “To make a statement?” Hartsfield asked.

  “I suppose.”

  “Did you hold a grudge against Mason?”

  That was a question that took some reflection on my part, because I wanted to say no. Like I was somehow above that jealous pettiness, but if I was being completely honest…. “Yeah, I guess I did. He got a lot of passes in life.”

  Hartsfield’s silence at that said more than words. “When’s the last time you saw Mason Chalmers alive?”

  “The afternoon of his death.”

  “At the pep rally?”

  “N
o….” This sounded terrible. “It was in my car. After school.”

  “Mason Chalmers was in your car.” He looked surprised, as did my mother. I’d never told her about that. It seemed irrelevant at the time. Would they swab my car looking for Mason’s DNA? Shit, was I going to get charged with Mason’s murder? I took a deep breath and forced myself to stay calm. I focused on the smooth reflective metal table.

  “Yeah, he climbed in without asking. I think he wanted to talk to me alone.”

  “What did the two of you talk about?”

  I shook my head. My pits started sweating something fierce. I felt a little dizzy too.

  “Mason wanted to know if I was interested in Dare.”

  “And were you?”

  “Yes.”

  “What else?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing, really.”

  Hartsfield blew out a bullish sigh, meant to convey that his patience with me was wearing thin. “This is a murder investigation, Charlie, and you are skating on very thin ice, so if there’s something that happened in that car—something Mason said to you, something you did to him—you’d better spit it out now, because it’s going to be much worse for you later.”

  I raked my fingernails through my hair. “He warned me not to hurt Dare. And I promised him I wouldn’t. That’s it.”

  Hartsfield sat back, crossed his arms and squinted at me. It was meant to intimidate me and it worked. “Why would he do that, Charlie?”

  “I don’t know. I guess he thought I was setting Dare up or something.”

  My mom opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off before she could defend me.

  “Here’s the truth, Lieutenant Hartsfield. Even though the Geek Squad and the jocks deserved to be taken down for that operation, I always felt bad for going after Mason. Truthfully, I liked him. I’d never hurt him or anyone else. I’m not that kind of person, but I’d especially never do anything to hurt Dare.”

  Hartsfield sat back and studied me. I sounded like every other suspect pleading his case. One word flashed above his forehead in neon lights like a Broadway marquis: GUILTY.

  “Where were you the night of November 5?”

  And this was where I had to admit I had no alibi. My innocence was looking more dubious by the second. “I was at home with my dog, Boots.”

  He asked me if I watched any television, and I told him I was reading a book.

  “For school?”

  “No, for pleasure. Life of Pi. I wanted to watch the movie, but I wanted to read the book first.”

  “When did you finish reading it?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I haven’t. When Mason was murdered, everything else was put on the back burner.”

  “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Darren Chalmers,” he commented.

  I nodded.

  “Weren’t you worried, given your history with Mason, that you might be considered a suspect?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “We’ve been going to school together, some of us since kindergarten. I’m not the only one who has history with Mason Chalmers.” Hartsfield scribbled something on his notepad while I went over the events of last night in my head, trying to look for the clue hidden there as to who might have taken Dare.

  “There was one more thing he said before we fell asleep,” I told Hartsfield. I’d forgotten it altogether until that moment. “I was half-asleep at the time, but he asked me if I thought Coach Gundry had done it—killed Mason—and I told him, I didn’t know.”

  “Why would you say that?” Hartsfield asked.

  Why indeed? Because it was my gut instinct. “Coach Gundry is a hardass, but I don’t think he’s a killer.”

  Hartsfield shot my mother an uneasy look, and something like agreement passed between them. Or maybe that was just what I wanted to see.

  “Under no circumstance are you to be involved in this case,” Hartsfield said sternly. “You leave this investigation to me and my team.”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied automatically.

  Hartsfield asked a few more questions, but I sensed the interrogation was winding down. He read over his notes and asked me to clarify a few sequences in my timeline. Again, probably trying to catch me in a lie, but my story was legit.

  “You’re free to go, Charlie, but know that you are now a person of interest. I’d suggest sticking close to home for the time being.”

  “I certainly will, Lieutenant.”

  In leaving the interrogation room and heading toward the exit, we had to pass by Dare’s parents. They stood when they saw us. Both of them looked utterly distressed, and I felt really bad for them. I’d failed Dare and fucked up royally, and now Dare was in trouble because of my incompetence. I deserved the withering glare Mrs. Chalmers gave me. I wanted to apologize and maybe even find out what had tipped them off that Dare was in trouble, but my mother only gripped my arm tighter and dragged me along. Once in her car, I apologized profusely for disobeying her and getting her thrown off the case. In response she gave me the silent treatment. The whole way home. It was rare for her to do that. And unbearable.

  Finally I couldn’t repress my questions any longer. “Mom, what do they think happened to Dare?”

  “It’s none of your concern, Charlie.”

  “Mom, please. I care about him a lot.” And then I started crying. Partly it was the stress of the day, but also if anything happened to him, I’d never forgive myself.

  She glanced over at me, looking tired and overwhelmed. No mother ever wants their child in the interrogation room under any circumstance. “The Chalmerses received a concerning text from Dare. They sent us to check on him. We found you.”

  “What did the text say?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Where was Dare’s car?”

  “We don’t know.”

  “He’s in trouble.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  But I did know it. There was no doubt in my mind something terrible had happened to him.

  “Where’s Coach Gundry?”

  “Released.”

  “What? Why?”

  She gave me a look that told me not to ask any more questions.

  For the remainder of the car ride home, I wracked my brain on what piece of the puzzle I was missing while Mom listed the new rules of my punishment. I was not to leave the house except to go to school. I’d lost my car and cell phone, and I wasn’t allowed online unless it was for schoolwork.

  “I’ve taken off the next week to make sure you follow these rules.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I really am.”

  “You should have told me about the conversation between you and Mason. I can’t protect you if I don’t have all the facts.”

  “I didn’t do anything to hurt Mason or Dare. I swear.”

  She turned off the car and continued to grip the steering wheel with both hands. “I know you didn’t, Charlie, but my biggest concern right now is keeping you safe.”

  I understood where she was coming from, but unfortunately we were still at odds, because my biggest concern was finding Dare.

  Chapter 16

  WHEN WE got home, Mom gave me five minutes with my phone to see what assignments I’d missed, since we’d spent the entire school day at GPD. I was pretty sure this wasn’t going to be an excused absence.

  I first looked to see if Dare had called or messaged me. Nothing. Same with his social media—it was a virtual black hole. The free-floating anxiety I’d been dealing with all day threatened to bloom into panic, but I wouldn’t be any use to Dare if I was freaking out, so I told myself to settle down and concentrate.

  I had a text from Tameka that said Call me and three missed calls from her as well.

  “I need to call a friend from class,” I told Mom.

  She looked at me warily. “What class?”

  “AP English,” I told her on a whim. I was getting better at lying, or perhaps I was just that desperate.

  “Make it quick.”

 
“Can I take it to my room?” I asked when she made no motion to leave.

  “Nope. I want to make sure this is a school-related call.”

  I worried briefly she’d never trust me again. I pressed Call, and Tameka answered on the second ring. “Hey,” I said. “I called to catch up on what I missed in class.”

  It took Tameka a beat to respond. “Gotcha, Dick. Here’s the word. Gundry hasn’t been at school, but he has an alibi. Turns out he was at Spurs the night of Mason’s murder. And get this… he’s dating Tyler Kim.”

  Spurs was the only gay nightclub in town, west of Gainesville proper on the Alachua county line. Geographically it was on opposite sides of the county from where Mason was murdered. Tyler Kim was a wrestler who’d graduated a couple of years back. Was that the secret Coach Gundry was keeping? That he was gay?

  “Why would he lie about that?” I asked Tameka. Mom shot me a look. “I mean, he can’t just change due dates around on us like that.”

  “Maybe he didn’t want the student body knowing his business. Or the other teachers.”

  I was conflicted about that. Coach Gundry could be a real role model for us queer kids, but maybe it wasn’t any of our concern how he spent his free time. And dating a former student probably wouldn’t go over well with some of the parents.

  “Did I miss anything else?” I asked Tameka.

  “Girl, I haven’t even told you the half of it. Did you hear about Dare?”

  “Yes, he’s missing.” And it’s my fault.

  Mom cleared her throat and made a motion for me to wrap it up.

  “He’s a lot more than that. There’s something you need to see, Dick. Immediately.”

  I held the phone to my chest. “Can Tameka drop off some notes from class?” I gave Mom my best pretty-please face.

  “Notes?”

  “Yes, notes,” I repeated, trying to keep my impatience out of my voice. Every second I spent arguing with her was a second I wasn’t devoting to finding Dare.

  “Fine, but it better not take long.”