The Green Children: A Sycamore Moon Novel (Sycamore Moon Series Book 3)

by Domino Finn

  "To dispose of my shit," said Red. "I can't just leave it on the floor now, can I?"

  Maxim nodded as he circled the clearing. "Who's the wheelchair for?"

  "No one. Me. Some days my leg gives out is all. I'm not a cripple."

  "Does anyone else live with you?"

  "Does it look like it?"

  Maxim peeked into the RV windows. The interior was dark and he couldn't see anything through the scratches in the tint, but as far as he was concerned, that was a judgment call.

  "Do you have any children's clothes in your motor home?"

  Red coughed up some spittle and wiped his mouth. "How'd you know about that?"

  "Can you just answer the question?"

  "I had a son. A long time ago. He died when he was five." Red stared into the distance again. "I don't like to talk about it."

  The detective circled into Red's view and leaned close. "Why would you have a plaid skirt in there?"

  "It's not a skirt. It's a kilt. From the old country. I'm a Scot."

  Maxim frowned and walked past the old man again. He turned and made sure Diego saw his displeasure. The biker hissed and stormed to the other side of the RV.

  "Don't go in there," warned Maxim.

  "I'm just looking around the outside, like you said."

  The detective closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. So much for catching the old man red-handed.

  Chapter 23

  Red handed the driver's license to Maxim and returned to his wheelchair again. The detective had gone with him to retrieve it, hoping to get a better look at the living space. Unfortunately, the ID was in the glove compartment in the cab. Either the old man had nothing to hide, or his skeletons were hidden in the rear.

  It was a Texas license, which matched his plates. Like his insurance, it was up to date. "You're from the Lone Star State?"

  Red shot out his lip. "As far as Uncle Sam is concerned. Government's nicer there. The land is nicer here."

  Maxim studied the ID. Lachlan Munro. "So the 'old country' then, as you put it?"

  "And proud of it. Had to move here when things got hard." Red eyed Maxim quizzically. "Still not sure I made the right decision."

  Maxim snapped a photo of the ID before handing it back. Then he did the same with the plate on the back of the RV. He texted the picture to Gutierrez at the station and asked him to run it. If the old man had any outstanding warrants then the issue of consent to search became moot.

  "What is this place?" asked Olivia. The prim woman had joined him at the back of the vehicle. She stared with disgust at the dilapidated sofa that rested against the bumper.

  Maxim shook his head. He didn't know what to tell the woman. He'd stressed the importance of coming out here but was unsure how to proceed. He wasn't sure about Red. The man wasn't normal, that much he knew. The detective had no doubts the Scotsman had been on the wrong side of the law once or twice. People didn't disconnect like this without a reason. But without a clear link to Hazel, without an open warrant, they had nothing on him. In truth, Maxim wasn't sure the old man deserved his suspicion.

  "Why, hello child!" said Red suddenly.

  Maxim and Olivia exchanged a confused glance and then rounded the corner of the motor home. Red leaned forward in his seat, patting Annabelle on the head.

  Her mother screamed.

  Maxim ran to them. "Get away from her!" he yelled, scooping the preteen in his hands. He placed her a safe distance away and shot Red a warning stare.

  "She came to me," he said. "I was sitting right here the whole time."

  "It doesn't matter. I don't want you to touch her."

  Diego rounded the RV from the other side to check on the commotion. His disappointment was obvious. There was nothing to see.

  "I told you to stay in the car," chided Olivia.

  "You were taking too long," replied Annabelle. "What's the problem? Isn't this the point?"

  Olivia almost responded but Maxim didn't want that. "It's okay," he blurted out. Olivia glared at him but he nodded it off. The girl was right. The entire reason Annabelle was out here was to see if she recognized anything. It did no good to discipline her now.

  "This is Lachlan," announced Maxim.

  "Nobody calls me that," protested the man.

  Maxim ignored him and addressed the girl. "Have you two met?"

  The Scot made a funny face and Annabelle laughed. "He's an old man," she said, as if the insinuation was ridiculous.

  "So you haven't seen him before? Or his motor home? Take a look at it."

  Red spun around in the wheelchair and eyed his own RV. "Well anybody might've seen me drive—"

  "I never saw it," she said.

  Red nodded. "That's right. And what's this about anyway? Anybody that says I did anything is a liar."

  "What about Red, Annabelle? Have you seen him around anywhere?"

  The girl rolled her eyes. "No," she answered. "I wasn't taken and molested by an old man."

  Olivia was shocked. "Annabelle!"

  "So that's what this is about!" Red rested back in the wheelchair and shook his head as he watched the tree line. "Well, this is awkward."

  Maxim again turned to Diego. He didn't know what to say. He'd gotten his hopes up again, but Red was looking like more of a dead end than Jason Bower.

  The old hermit leaned forward when no one spoke. "What did happen to you, child?"

  Annabelle's light blue eyes fluttered under his gaze.

  "Nothing."

  "Now, child," admonished Red with a smile. "Lying is a game for adults. Look at these men. They're much better at it than you."

  "It's not like that," insisted Olivia. "We just want answers. We don't mean you any harm."

  "See what I mean?" said Red, still focused on the girl. "They can't help themselves."

  Annabelle pouted but stepped closer. Maxim's instinct was to put a stop to their bantering—but he was curious about it. Red was tight-lipped but enjoyed an audience. If it took a twelve-year-old to get him talking, so be it.

  Maxim's phone buzzed in his pocket but he ignored it.

  "You're too young and innocent to be going that way anyway," said Red. "Your mother may be misguided but she's concerned for you."

  Olivia stepped forward but Maxim grabbed her arm and gently pulled her back. He gave her a knowing glance and she understood.

  Red continued. "Why won't you tell her what happened?"

  Annabelle's gaze fell to her feet. For the first time, Maxim noticed she wasn't wearing shoes or socks. He scanned the clearing and didn't see them. The girl must have taken them off in the car.

  "No one cares," answered Annabelle.

  "Child!" Red pressed against his chair and pushed himself to his feet. Maxim took a step closer but let the conversation play out. "That's not true. Your mommy and daddy are out here right now, aren't they?"

  Maxim and Olivia traded an embarrassed glance.

  "He's not my dad."

  Red shuffled past the girl. "Oh. Well, sometimes adults need some company."

  Olivia glanced at Maxim, but his face flushed and he couldn't look back. "It's not like that," he told Red.

  The old man nodded and leaned his hunched form against the black pole. It appeared that Red used it for support. The hermit let out a long sigh as if the short distance had worn him out.

  "All I mean, child, is that nobody would be here if they didn't care."

  "There's another girl missing," said Annabelle. "That's who they care about. That's who they're looking for. Nobody cares about what I want."

  Red shook his head sadly. It was a pitiful thing to see such a decrepit man saddened by a kid. Maxim couldn't get a read on him. Everything he did surprised the detective, but he wasn't sure any of it was genuine.

  "So tell us," said Red. "What do you want?"

  Annabelle shrugged. "To live outside. Like you."

  "Annabelle Hayes," intoned her mother. "I've warned you about speaking like that."

  "It's what I wa
nt!" the girl cried. She wasn't a teenager yet but already had the knack for making every conversation dramatic. As easily as she turned it on, it went away, and she again faced the old man.

  "What about this?" he asked, pulling the black pole from the ground. "Do you want to hold this?"

  Maxim took another step closer. The pole wasn't sharp, but it was large and heavy. It was unwieldy but it could still be used as a weapon in the right hands. But Red only stood still, presenting it in front of her.

  "Go ahead," he said. "Try it."

  The little girl stared at it, unsure what to do. Red put his weight on the staff and the flat bottom pushed into the dirt. He crouched before her.

  "Grab onto it."

  Annabelle shook her head. It was a hesitant gesture at first, but her eyes grew wild and she almost collapsed backward.

  Olivia ran up to grab her daughter. "Leave her alone!" She tried to hug her but Annabelle pushed away. Maxim forgot about them and kept watching the old man. Red's eager eyes bored into the girl.

  The old man struggled to rise and held onto the pole for dear life. His head rose to Maxim's height, then towered above as he stood straighter.

  "Poor girl," said Red casually. Maxim nodded and watched the mother and daughter argue. The detective didn't have kids but knew Annabelle was troubled. It wasn't just an identity issue, or a space issue. Her problems were deeply rooted. "She's not the first, and she won't be the last."

  "What did you say?" demanded Diego from the outskirts, suddenly in the old man's face. Red's expression took on an amused ire.

  "You know," he said, studying the biker, "I thought it was the kids who were messing around on my property. Now I know better."

  "What the hell are you talking about?"

  Red stepped away from his crutch and postured in front of the biker. "You know what you did."

  Diego welcomed the challenge. He shoved the old man with both hands. Somehow, the feeble man held strong. "What did you mean about her not being the last?"

  Red coughed up another loogie and spit it at Diego. The biker barely got out of the way. Without thinking, he socked Red with a roundhouse that splayed the old man to the floor.

  "Diego!" Maxim moved between them and shoved the biker away. Red was an elderly man. No matter how strong he was, assaulting him was a bad idea. "I want you two to stop this," he commanded, his voice leaving no margin for protest.

  Diego exhaled heavily but stood his ground. Red didn't accept Maxim's offer for help and stayed on the ground, muttering to himself. Maxim's phone buzzed again and he used the downtime to pull it from his jacket. Gutierrez had texted him twice. The first message indicated that Lachlan Munro had no outstanding warrants. The second told him that a full background check came up clean.

  At least on paper, Red was not a criminal.

  Maxim slipped his phone back into his jacket as Red regained his feet. "Number one, we're going to keep this civil. The next person that throws a punch is spending the night in jail. That's a promise. Number two, I don't know who messed with your property, but I don't want anyone accusing anyone else of anything unless they have proof and want to file a police report. That means I'd need to get a Coconino deputy out here. I'd rather not go through all that. It's easier to keep this a simple conversation. We clear on that?"

  Red nodded. The detective faced the biker, who just shrugged. "Are we clear, Diego?"

  The man grimaced and zipped up his riding jacket. "Yeah."

  "Good."

  "I want everyone off my property," said Red.

  "Kaibab National Forest is public land."

  "I have a right to be left alone."

  Maxim scoffed. "Let me tell you how this works, Mr. Munro. When the police conduct investigations, civilians have the duty to cooperate. I don't give a shit what you think of the government—you're gonna tell me what you know."

  Red huffed indignantly. "Fine. Anything to get you crazies off my property. But I already told you, I've never seen that girl or the one in the photograph in my life. I don't know why you don't believe me."

  Diego almost said something but Maxim's stare silenced him. "I do believe you," said the detective.

  "Okay then," said Red, somewhat vindicated. "Then I don't know how I can help you."

  Maxim paused a moment. "You said you thought kids were messing around with your stuff. What kids?"

  Red sighed and shook his head.

  "Do you know their names?" asked Maxim.

  "They don't have names," he said. "Or maybe they do. How should I know?"

  Maxim produced his phone again and scrolled to the pictures of Annabelle's friends—Bryan, Grady, Allison, and BT. "What about these children? Have any of these messed with your property?"

  Red chuckled. "You don't get it, Detective. You don't have photographs of the wee ones. They don't have fancy clothes and rich parents. They're removed from society, like me."

  Diego tensed, but Maxim didn't want to interrupt his flow with Red. "Who are they? Runaways?"

  Red's eyes flashed for a moment, but Maxim couldn't tell if it was anger or amusement. "Some, I suppose," he finally answered. "They're all lost. That's for sure."

  "And they steal from you?"

  "They bother me. They steal things. Or move things. Or break things."

  "Why haven't you come to the police?"

  Red laughed.

  Maxim tried another question. "Why don't you park somewhere else?"

  "I do," insisted Red. "I move around all the time. They always follow me and cause all sorts of trouble. Wandering, dancing, singing in the middle of the night. A man can't get a moment's rest."

  Finally Maxim met Diego's eyes and understood what the biker was excited about. Jason Bower had said the same thing. He'd been at the campsite the same night Red passed through, and he was unnerved by a child crying in the woods. Were these reports related?

  Red leaned onto his crutch, gripping the top crossbar tightly. "Best to live close to the tracks. The tracks are safe. They're old metal. A pipeline to the industrialized world."

  A crack formed in Diego's serious expression. "What are you going on about, old man?"

  Maxim narrowed his eyes. "Safe from who?"

  The hermit shrugged. "Whoever you're looking for. They don't like iron." Red tapped the black pole as he said that.

  Maxim laughed and shook his head, realizing how crazy this was beginning to sound. "Yeah, well, what about lead?" The detective pulled back his jacket and patted the butt of his Glock.

  Red glanced at the firearm but didn't answer.

  The biker took this more seriously. He scratched his wild hair. "What do the kids have to do with all this?"

  "Everything," said Red. "The wee ones grab the children. Scurry off with them."

  "What?"

  "These woods aren't safe. Especially for little ones."

  Diego's face burned. "You son of a—"

  "Keep it civil!" barked Maxim. He stepped forward and Diego threw his hands up in surrender. They were finally getting somewhere, even if the ramblings were as crazy as Jason Bower's. Maxim paced around the two.

  "Kids," he said. "You're blaming the abductions on kids? How could you know that?"

  Red shrugged. "I'm no fancy detective with a badge. I may not have the same burden of proof you do, but I know it. In my gut, I know the wee ones are out there." He lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. "I can see them on the edge of my vision when I'm almost asleep. They play tricks with the lights. I hear them chattering when the wind quiets to a breeze. They're out there, Detective, and you either believe me or you don't."

  "This is bullshit," exclaimed Diego as he stormed a short distance away. He continued speaking with his back to the other men. "You're telling us you don't know where Hazel is?"

  Maxim studied the biker. He half agreed with him, but he could also tell Diego was too attached to the case. Or the family, at least. He had good instincts for an outlaw, but he was too emotional and jumped to conclusions. Jason an
d Lachlan were skillful discoveries—they just weren't guilty of kidnapping Hazel Cunningham.

  "Mr. Munro," said Maxim, collecting his thoughts. "How can you expect us to believe you?"

  The old man didn't answer immediately. His wild eyes were amused by their distrust. "It's not what you believe that matters."

  Diego scowled and turned away. Just then, Olivia screamed at the top of her lungs.

  Maxim reached for his gun. He and Diego rushed around the RV and saw Olivia struggling in the woods. She was past the tree line, where the brush quickly thickened. Diego rushed forward and Maxim waited, scanning the clearing and trying to ascertain what was happening.

  Finally Olivia stood and moved toward them, into the clearing, dragging Annabelle by the arm and the neck. Diego stopped and watched the woman march past him.

  "She tried to run off into the woods," said Olivia to Maxim. The tone of her voice was especially harsh. "We need to go. Right now."

  Maxim watched Annabelle silently cooperate, a subdued expression on her face. The detective realized the grip on his firearm had turned his knuckles white. He eased his hand off the weapon and looked at Red, dumbfounded.

  The old man grinned.

  Chapter 24

  Diego twisted his boot in the dirt.

  "I'm telling you, that old man is full of shit."

  Maxim rubbed his temples. "It's not him," he said. "She—"

  The detective turned to check his car. Olivia and Annabelle were tucked inside with the doors closed. The girl strobed the green LED on her key chain flashlight. Maxim lowered his voice. "She doesn't know him. She would have said something."

  Diego wasn't so sure. He didn't know Annabelle. He hadn't been around for her interviews. All the biker knew was she'd been back two days already and hadn't helped the investigation in the slightest.

  "Maybe she's traumatized," he offered. "Or I don't know... scared."

  "Then she would be terrified of this place," returned Maxim. "She'd be catatonic just seeing his face. I'm telling you, Diego. I read people for a living. She's never seen him before."

  Diego pouted. There was a connection he was missing here. "Is it possible she somehow forgot?"