The faded blue sedan had seen better days. So had the driver, a raw-boned, dauntless woman named Reggie Lamb. Her eyes squinted as she scanned the arriving passengers at Tallahassee International Airport. The sun and her past had carved deep crevices in her leathered complexion and the once blond curls had turned to wiry gray ringlets. She was only forty-nine, but looked at least a decade older.
Watching from afar, Thea Lamb chided herself for the unkind assessment. She wasn’t there to find fault with her mother. Another child had gone missing in Black Creek, Florida, and Thea had come down from DC to offer whatever assistance might be needed.
Black Creek.
The very name of her hometown seemed synonymous with the brooding landscape along sections of the Florida-Georgia border, an area far more Deep South than any other part of the Sunshine state. Backwoods was a more apt description in Thea’s book. Acres and acres of thick, verdant forest shrouding an underground labyrinth of caverns and springs. A place where screams went unheard and bones could stay hidden forever.
The phantom perfume of moss and mud seeped into Thea’s senses until she drew a sharp breath and let the very real odor of exhaust flush away the smell of her nightmares.
Twenty-eight years ago, the first child to go missing had been her twin sister, Maya. She’d been taken from the bedroom where Thea lay sleeping. Even now, dark images floated at the back of her mind when she thought of that night. She had to remind herself that she was a grown woman, a federal agent no longer susceptible to the night terrors of her youth or to the whispers that had once permeated her hometown. But some fears never really went away. Some doubts never truly died.
She’d come down here with the best of intentions, but the past had hovered like a storm cloud ever since she’d boarded her flight. She couldn’t help worrying that nothing good would come from a reunion with her mother. The years of estrangement stretched like ten miles of bad road as Thea slung her backpack over one shoulder and wheeled her carry-on out to the curb.
The sedan rattled to a stop and Reggie jumped out to help with the luggage. She was dressed in the typical Floridian uniform of shorts, tank top and flip-flops. Despite her scrawny frame, she hoisted the bulging carry-on into the trunk as if it weighed no more than a handbag. Then she checked the airport traffic before shifting her wary blue gaze to Thea.
“I’m glad you came.” She made no move to embrace her daughter and Thea was glad for that.
Heat rose from the pavement, activating perspiration along her backbone as she tried to sound normal. “How are you holding up, Reggie?”
The rasp in her mother’s voice deepened. “So it’s Reggie now, is it?”
“It has been since I was ten years old. Or had you forgotten?”
“I always preferred Mama.”
“It never seemed to suit you,” Thea said without thinking.
Something flitted across Reggie’s suntanned face. Pain? Regret?
Her mouth tightened, emphasizing the harsh lines. “I guess I can’t blame you for feeling that way. I did the best I could, but that’s not much of an excuse, is it?”
Something fluttered in the pit of Thea’s stomach. Pain? Regret?
This was so much more difficult than she’d anticipated. Her feelings for Reggie were darkly complex, a messy patchwork of anger and resentment stitched together with lingering doubts. Regardless of what else lay between them, Reggie was still her mother, the woman who’d worked double shifts at the local diner to put food on the table and keep a roof over their heads. The woman who’d doctored Thea’s skinned knees and sent bullies sniveling home to their mamas when their cruelty had made her cry.
She took a deep breath. “I didn’t come here to dredge up the past.”
“No help for that, given what’s happened,” Reggie stated flatly. “Another child has disappeared from my home. Considering my history, you can imagine what the cops are thinking and the neighbors are saying. Half of them already have me on my way to prison.”
Thea didn’t have to imagine anything. She’d only been four when her sister was taken, but she’d lived in the shadow of Maya’s abduction until she’d left home for college at seventeen. She wished she could say she’d learned to ignore the malicious gossip but, truth be told, she’d never been as strong-willed as Reggie. The taunts had always gotten under her skin. Your mama murdered your twin sister. How do you sleep in the same house with that monster? Ever wonder if you were the one she meant to kill?
“Is it as bad as it was before?” Thea asked.
“Bad enough.” Reggie rubbed the inside of her elbow. “I didn’t stay at the house last night, but I ran by there this morning to get some fresh clothes before I went to work—”
“Wait a minute,” Thea cut in. “You worked this morning?”
“Why wouldn’t I? The town’s flooded with state troopers and volunteers, and the diner’s shorthanded. Somebody’s got to pitch in and help feed them.”
“Yes, of course. I just thought under the circumstances...never mind. So you went by the house...?”
Reggie’s expression remained stoic but her eyes glittered angrily. “Somebody had spray-painted murderer across the side of my porch.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It is what it is. I tried to scrub it off, but you can still see the outline. Figured you should know what you’re walking into.”
She nodded, avoiding her mother’s gaze. Reggie was still tough as nails on the outside, but Thea had never thought of her as vulnerable until now. With an effort, she swallowed past an unexpected knot in her throat. “I’m still not clear on how Taryn Buchanan and her daughter came to be staying with you in the first place.”
“It’s a long story. I’ll explain everything on the way home, but right now we need to get moving. We’re holding up the line.”
As if to punctuate her point, a shiny black pickup with tinted windows inched forward impatiently.
Reggie glared at the driver before turning back to Thea. “Get in.”
Thea dropped the backpack in the trunk, but kept the cross-body bag containing her SIG-Sauer 9 mm and FBI credentials over her shoulder. She climbed into the passenger seat while Reggie went around and got in behind the wheel. The interior of the car wasn’t in much better shape than the outside. The upholstery was worn through in places, and there was a hole in the dash where the radio had been removed. But the motor caught smoothly when Reggie turned the key in the ignition. That wasn’t surprising. She’d always been a whiz with engines. Had to be, since there’d never been any money for mechanics.
She was good with engines, but not so much air conditioners, Thea thought as she twisted up her long hair and pinned it in the back. She couldn’t remember a time when any of Reggie’s old beaters had had working AC. She peeled off her jacket and placed it on the bench seat with her bag.
Reggie gave her a sidelong glance before easing away from the curb. “You always dress like that? Like you’re going to a funeral? Girl, you’ll melt in this heat.”
Thea tried not to bristle at the critique. “I dress for the job, not the weather. People tend to be more cooperative if they’re even slightly intimidated by a professional appearance.”
“But you’re not on the job,” Reggie pointed out. “You said you were taking some personal days. So who are you trying to intimidate?”
“No one. I’m here to offer moral support and any other help that may be needed.”
Reggie braked suddenly to allow the pickup to whip around her. Muttering under her breath, she double-checked the rearview mirror as she merged with the line of cars exiting the terminal.
“Somebody’s in a hurry,” Thea said.
“Looks to be,” Reggie agreed. “People drive like idiots these days.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t flip him off. I admire your restraint.”
Reggie flashed her a look. “I don’t do that sort of thing anymore. I don’t do a lot of things I use to. You’d know that if you ever came to see me.”
Thea tamped down her irritation. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”
“Yes, and I’m grateful for that. God knows I need all the moral support I can get. But let’s not kid ourselves as to the real reason you came, Althea.”
No one had called her that in years. Thea frowned as she dug out her sunglasses. “I’ll bite,” she said as she slipped on the Wayfarers. “Why am I here?”
“Be honest,” Reggie said. “You think Kylie’s disappearance is somehow connected to Maya’s, don’t you?”
“Maya was taken nearly thirty years ago. The likelihood of a connection after all this time is slim.”
“Both girls disappeared from my home through the same bedroom window. You’re telling me that’s a coincidence?”
“No, not a coincidence,” Thea said. “It’s possible Kylie Buchanan’s kidnapper mimicked Maya’s abduction to disguise his or her true motive.”
Reggie chewed her lip in contemplation, her gaze trained on the road. Traffic was bumper-to-bumper leaving the airport. “The FBI profiler said something similar. She and the other Feds swooped in fast this time. A bunch of SUVs arrived in town just a couple hours after the local cops called for assistance.”
“That’s good. The sooner CARD hits the ground running, the greater the chances of a positive resolution,” Thea said, referring to the FBI’s elite Child Abduction Rapid Deployment team. “There’s nothing anyone can say that will offer much comfort to Taryn Buchanan at the moment, but you should both know the people out there looking for her little girl are the best of the best. Every agent on that team has years of experience and expertise working crimes against children cases. They have a nearly ninety percent success rate in identifying and apprehending child abductors.”
“What about their success rate in bringing children home safely?” Fear crept into Reggie’s voice. “It’s been well over twenty-four hours since Kylie went missing. We both know what that means.”
“Try not to get hung up on the timeline,” Thea advised. “Every case is different.” But she knew better than most that nonparental abductions rarely turned out well, especially when the child was a tender age. “Who’s the agent in charge?”
“I have his information somewhere.” Reggie patted her shorts pocket and withdrew a business card. “Here. A guy named Stillwell.”
Thea’s heart thudded as she glanced at the card. Special Agent Jacob Stillwell. Jake. She’d known their paths would likely cross when she’d made the decision to come down here. He headed the southeast CARD team that worked out of the Jacksonville field office. Stood to reason he’d be sent to Black Creek. Thea told herself she could handle a face-to-face. Whatever they’d once shared had been over for a long time. Jake Stillwell was just a guy she used to know. A colleague with benefits who’d packed his bags and left town with barely a backward glance.
At least, that was the way Thea had regarded his departure at the time. In retrospect, everything about their relationship had been so much more complicated than either had wanted to concede. They’d gone into it with their eyes wide open—or so they’d told themselves. The job would always come first. No guilt. No resentment. No having to justify long hours or making hard choices. When it ended, it ended.
What a crock. After four years, the cavalier way he’d told her about his transfer still stung, but it would be a cold day in hell before Thea ever admitted it aloud.
She placed the card facedown on the seat and turned to stare out the side window.
“Do you know him?” Reggie asked.
Thea answered in a careful monotone. “Agent Stillwell has an excellent reputation.”
“That’s not what I mean. Do you know him personally?”
“Why does it matter?”
“I’m just curious. He seems to know you. He asked about you...how you’re doing, that sort of thing. I couldn’t tell him much seeing as how I don’t know the first thing about your life in DC. I don’t even know what it is you do all day.”
“Mostly, I stare at a computer screen.” Thea’s fingers curled around the edge of the seat. “As for Agent Stillwell, I’m sure he was just trying to be polite.”
“Maybe. But there was something about the way he said your name.” Reggie shrugged. “Then again, maybe I imagined his interest.”
Thea wasn’t about to get into the details of her personal life with her mother. She and Reggie had come to an agreement years ago about staying out of one another’s private affairs. But she feared her silence would reveal far more about her feelings than she intended. Reggie was nobody’s fool. If Thea didn’t give her something, she might end up making an embarrassing assumption in front of Jake. “We worked together a few years back. We were partners for a time.”
“What happened?”
Thea adjusted her sunglasses as she gave her mother a frustrated glance. “Nothing happened. He was promoted and transferred to the Jacksonville field office. I stayed in DC.”
“Ah,” Reggie murmured. “Now I get it.”
“What do you get?” Thea demanded.
Her mother shot her a meaningful glance. “I’m guessing his promotion rubbed you the wrong way. You were always crazy competitive, even as a kid. With your classmates, with your sister. Even with me.”
Thea swung around. “That’s not true. I worked hard to get your attention, but never at Maya’s expense.”
Reggie looked stricken. Then a mask dropped as her shoulders stiffened. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did. You and Maya were always so close. I couldn’t punish one of you without the other lighting into me. You were each other’s fiercest defender.”
Thea winced. “Some defender I turned out to be.”
“You were four years old. What happened to Maya wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault except for the person who took her, though plenty of folks around here still blame me. They think I was the kind of mother who would murder her own child and bury her body in the woods.” She gave Thea a long scrutiny. “Maybe you think that, too. Maybe that’s why you don’t come down here anymore.”
JAKE STILLWELL CLIMBED out of the SUV and stood for a moment, letting his gaze roam over the rows of dated brick ranches. The façade color varied, but the houses all had the same carports and concrete porches with scrolled metal posts. None had been updated, but some had been better maintained than others.
The quiet neighborhood was located less than a quarter mile from the center of Black Creek, technically within the town limits, but the mature trees and outbuildings gave the area a rural ambience. A thick canopy of oak leaves hung over the sidewalks, casting deep shadows onto the street.
Under normal circumstances, Jake would have welcomed a respite from the relentless heat, but when he took in the shrouded yards and encroaching woods, all he saw were hiding places. All he could think was how easily someone could move through the neighborhood without being seen.
“Hey! Can I help you with something?”
Jake turned to see the neighbor from across the street ambling down his gravel driveway with a bluetick at his side. The man looked to be nearing sixty, tall and lanky, with grayish-blond hair thinning at the top. He wore a pair of stained cargo shorts and a dingy white T-shirt with a sailfish on the front. The coonhound looked elderly and lethargic, his hunting days long behind him.
“If you’re looking for Reggie, she’s not home,” he informed Jake. “I saw her over there earlier, but that was hours ago. You might try the diner.”
“I’m not here to see Reggie.”
The man paused at the end of the drive to take a long swig from the insulated mug he carried. His relaxed manner belied the suspicious glint in his eyes. He lowered the tumbler and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Then what’s your business here, if you don’t mind my asking?”
Good question. Jake wouldn’t be able to explain his compulsion even if he were inclined to try. He had come back to Reggie Lamb’s house because he’d had to. As simple and as complicated as that. “I’m Agent Stillwell with the FBI.”
“FBI, huh?” The man leaned an arm against his rickety mailbox. “I figured you were a cop of some kind, but I wouldn’t be much of a neighbor if I didn’t ask to see some ID.”
Jake took out his credentials and held them up so the man could see the gold badge from across the street.
He squinted in Jake’s direction, then crossed the street, flip-flops slapping against the pavement. He called to his companion, who moseyed after him. Jake waited beside his SUV for the languid pair to approach. The man scrutinized Jake’s photograph and then reached down to give the dog a reassuring scratch behind a floppy ear. The hound took that as his cue to find a shady spot to stretch out, chin on paws, and wait patiently.
“Sorry for being such a pain in the rear,” the man said in a friendlier tone. “Can’t be too careful after everything that’s happened.”
“I agree. It’s good that you look out for your neighbors.” Jake put away his credentials, his gaze still on the stranger. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Lyle Crowder. That’s my place over yonder, but you probably already figured that out.” He glanced over his shoulder, cocking his head with a frown. “Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
He turned back to Jake. “Exactly my point. Yesterday, the police were all over the neighborhood, knocking on doors, searching garages and storage sheds, and today it’s like a ghost town around here. Even the helicopter I saw circling earlier is gone.” His shoulders hunched as if a cold wind blew down his neck. “Did you find the little girl? Is that why you’re here? You came to tell Reggie and her mother in person?”
“Kylie Buchanan hasn’t been found,” Jake said. “As I understand it, no one is staying here at the moment. The lack of activity in the neighborhood is due to the fact we’ve expanded the search into other areas. We’re trying to cover as much territory as we can in a short amount of time.”
Lyle nodded, his eyes dark and knowing. “Lots of woods around here. Lots of lakes and creeks.”
“The terrain is challenging,” Jake agreed.
“I’ve been thinking about that old cave on Douglas McNally’s property. It’s not far from here. A couple of miles through them woods.” He nodded toward the back of Reggie’s property. “If someone needed to hide out for a few days, that would be a good place. There are tunnels and caverns most people don’t even know about. No one from around here will go down there anymore. A couple of teenagers lost their way and drowned in an underwater passage years back. Mr. McNally fenced off the entrance and posted a bunch of signs, but it wouldn’t be hard to climb over the fence and throw a body down in the pit.”
“You’ve been down there?” Jake asked.
“Back in my younger days when you didn’t have to sign a waiver. Some of the passageways are belly crawls and my knees aren’t what they used to be. But I could still cover some ground if I take old Blue down there with me.” The dog’s ears twitched at the sound of his name.
“We’d prefer you not go out on your own, especially into dangerous terrain,” Jake said. “We like to keep track of all the volunteers so that no one gets lost and we don’t end up covering the same ground twice.”
Plus, the criminal background checks required of each volunteer could potentially lead to the kidnapper’s identity if he or she decided to join in the search.
Lyle nodded. “Makes sense, I guess.”
“You can sign up at the command center we’ve established at the police station. In the meantime, would you mind answering a few questions while I’m here?”
He seemed agreeable. “I’ve got no place I need to be anytime soon. But you should know I’ve already talked to the police. A couple of officers stopped by my place after I got home yesterday. I told them everything I know, which isn’t much.”
“That’s okay. Sometimes something can come back to you a day or two later.”
Lyle leaned against the side of the SUV and folded his arms. “Fire away then.”
“Were you home Sunday night through early Monday morning?”
He shook his head regretfully. “I wish I had been home. I might have seen something. But I was in Pensacola on a fishing trip with my brother.”
“When did you leave on this trip?”
“Saturday morning right around sunrise. I wanted to beat the beach crowd. Drove over to Crestview, picked up my brother, and then we cruised on down to the Gulf. We were on the water all weekend. Didn’t hear about the kidnapping until I got home around four or five in the afternoon. That’s when the cops came by.”
“You didn’t get an Amber Alert on your phone Monday morning?”
Lyle rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t think so. I’m sure I would have noticed since the missing kid was local. But we were out on the water early. I probably had my phone turned off. I like peace and quiet when I fish.”
“So you were away from your house from early Saturday morning until late yesterday afternoon?”
“That’s right. My brother has Mondays off. We had to get back so he could go to work today. He’s not retired like I am.”
“You didn’t see anything out of the ordinary before you left on Saturday? No strangers in the neighborhood or any unfamiliar cars on the street? Maybe someone paying a little too much attention to Reggie’s house?”
“I think I would have noticed if someone had been watching Reggie’s house.”
“They would have been discreet,” Jake said. “Maybe you saw the same car drive by her house a few times. Or maybe you noticed workers or repair vans nearby.”
“Like I said, I would have noticed anything out of the ordinary.” He opened the lid of the tumbler and tossed out the ice. “I keep a sharp eye out when I’m home.”
Jake glanced across the street. “You have a good view of Reggie’s property from your front windows. Did you ever see Kylie Buchanan playing in the yard alone?”
A brow lifted. “Alone, no. Why?”
“It could have provided someone the opportunity to approach her, maybe under the pretext of being a neighbor out looking for a lost pet. It’s a known ploy,” Jake said, his gaze narrowing slightly. “A way to gain her trust.”
Lyle shrugged. “Anytime I saw the girl outside, her mother was always hovering nearby. She seemed to watch that kid like a hawk. I didn’t know who either of them was until all this happened. I didn’t even know Reggie had someone living over there. She has a grown daughter. I thought maybe Thea had had a kid since the last time I’d seen her, and they were down here visiting.”
“You didn’t recognize Taryn Buchanan? She and her husband, Russ, have lived in Black Creek for the past five years. They have a house in Crescent Hill.”
“That area of town is a little rich for my blood. I don’t get over that way much.” He paused as if something had occurred to him. “How does someone with a house in Crescent Hill end up in this neighborhood living with Reggie Lamb?”
“We’re still trying to sort out the details,” Jake said. “Do you live alone, Mr. Crowder?”
“If you don’t count my coonhound. He’s about the only family I have left besides my brother. We get along fine on our own, don’t we, Blue?”
The dog’s tail flapped lazily.
“How long have you lived across the street?” Jake asked.
“I’ve owned the property for over thirty years, but I wasn’t around for a lot of that time. I worked as an offshore welder before I retired. Spent more time on a platform than I did at home. ‘Floating cities,’ we called them. I’d sometimes be away for two or three months at a time.”
“Were you home when Maya Lamb went missing?”
Lyle Crowder’s easygoing demeanor vanished. A wall seemed to go up as he straightened, pretending to move into deeper shade.
“That was a long time ago.”
Jake nodded. “Twenty-eight years, to be exact, but you don’t forget something like that, especially when it occurs across the street from your home.”
An odd note crept into the man’s voice; a curious combination of defiance and uncertainty. “Why are you asking about Maya Lamb? You don’t think the same person took the Buchanan girl, do you? After all this time?”
“We don’t leave any stone unturned when a child goes missing,” Jake said.
Lyle’s brow furrowed. “Yeah, okay. I remember now. I’d started a new job that summer working on a rig out of New Orleans. I didn’t get home much that whole year.”
Two little girls had gone missing from the house across the street and Lyle Crowder had conveniently been away each time. For someone who liked to keep an eye out, he seemed to have a knack for making himself scarce when crimes were committed.
“We all heard about the disappearance,” he said. “You couldn’t turn on the TV or open a paper all summer long without seeing that little girl’s picture. There was a lot of speculation about what had happened to her. Like she might have been dead before she went missing, if you know what I mean. But after a while, people lost interest and moved on.”
“How well did you know Reggie back then?”
A frown flitted as he studied the front of her house, his expression so intense he might have been peering into one of her windows. Or into her past. “When you live in a small town, you know everybody to a certain degree. Reggie was a lot younger than me, so we didn’t socialize much. I guess you could say we were friendly acquaintances. But anyone in Black Creek will tell you she was pretty wild back then.”
“What do you mean by ‘wild’?”
“Booze and men, men and booze. She kind of went off the deep end after her baby daddy wrapped his car around a light pole one night. Not that he was ever going to marry her anyway. His mother didn’t approve. Wrong side of the tracks and all that. After he was killed, June Chapman hardly had anything to do with those little girls. Never offered financial support or anything, and her old man left her loaded. That’s pretty cold if you ask me, shunning her own grandkids.”
He was getting a little too gossipy, but Jake didn’t try to rein him in. He liked to think that his silence would encourage Crowder to let down his guard. But, if he were honest with himself, he’d have to admit he found these peeks into Thea’s past riveting. She’d been gone from his life for four years and yet she remained the most enigmatic woman he’d ever known. In all their time together, he’d never been able to figure her out and maybe that was why, in all their time apart, he’d never been able to forget her.
“Reggie must have been young when she had her twins,” he said.
“Not much more than a kid herself,” Lyle agreed. “You’d think two babies would have slowed her down, but not Reggie. Every Saturday night, she’d have a bunch of people over here to party. Maybe it was her way of thumbing her nose at June Chapman and all the other old biddies in town that looked down on her. She and her friends would crank up the music and hang out in the yard. Somebody would tap a keg or light up a joint. It got pretty rowdy at times. I don’t know how those little girls managed to sleep through all the ruckus.”
“Did you ever attend any of these parties?”
“Nah. Even if I’d been around, that crowd would have considered me a geezer.”
Was that a note of resentment in his voice? A lingering umbrage?
Lyle Crowder’s gaze met Jake’s then shifted away. “Reggie wasn’t much of a mother in a lot of respects, but I’ll say this for her. She was always a hard worker. Made sure her kids had clean clothes and plenty to eat. When her landlord died, she managed to scrape together a down payment and somehow convinced his boy to sell her this place. No telling how many double shifts she had to work just to make the mortgage payments. Regardless of her failings, you have to admire her for that.”
Jake’s eyes roamed the yard. For a moment, he had a vision of two little girls playing on the old tire swing hanging from one of the oak trees. If he listened hard enough, he could almost hear the echo of their forgotten laughter. Then one of the girls vanished and the other erected impenetrable defenses. “Did you see anyone besides Reggie here this morning?”
“If you’re asking whether or not I saw who painted that on her wall? No, but it’s not the first time some creep tagged her house. You know how it is in a place like this. People have small minds and long memories. Some folks around here still think Reggie was responsible for her daughter’s disappearance.”
“What do you think?”
He stared broodingly at the faded letters at the side of the porch. “You don’t want to believe someone you’ve known your whole life, let alone someone who lives across the street, could do such a terrible thing to her own child. I mean, Reggie had her faults, and plenty of them, but from what I saw, she loved her kids. If something happened to that little girl before she went missing, it must have been an accident. Reggie was young and impulsive. Maybe she panicked and got rid of the body instead of calling the police.”
“Is that what you think happened?”
Lyle shrugged. “It’s plausible, isn’t it? Although, to tell you the truth, Reggie never struck me as the panicky type. Personally, I’ve always wondered about that old boy she used to go with.”
“Do you remember his name?”
Lyle’s mouth curled in contempt. “Derrick Sway. Had such a bad temper, he’d fly off the handle for no apparent reason. Some of that dope will make you real unstable.”
“What makes you think he had something to do with Maya’s disappearance?” Jake asked.
“Just a gut feeling I’ve always had. If Sway was somehow responsible for what happened to Maya, I wouldn’t put it past him to threaten her sister just to keep Reggie quiet.”
“Sounds like you knew Derrick Sway pretty well.”
“Everyone in town knew him by reputation. He’d steal anything he could get his hands on. Peddled meth, too, when it was just getting started around here. I never understood how someone with Reggie’s looks and smarts could take up with a lowlife like him.”
“Do you know if he was at the party the night Maya went missing?”
“That’s what I heard, but I can’t swear to it since I wasn’t here. The cops must have talked to him after it happened. It’s probably all in a file somewhere.”
“How long did he and Reggie stay together after Maya went missing?”
“Not long. She wised up and kicked his sorry hide to the curb. Maybe she suspected something, I don’t know. Rumor had it, he tried to come back a time or two and she chased him off with a shotgun.”
“Sounds like there was bad blood between them,” Jake said.
Lyle gave a vague nod but his gaze remained wary and shrewd. “Sway spent the next few years in and out of county lockup for one petty crime after another. But the last time he got busted was for armed robbery. That got him a dime over in Lake City. You know about that place, right?”
“The Columbia Correctional Institute is considered one of the most violent prisons in the state of Florida,” Jake said.
“You think? You heard about what happened a while back. One of the prisoners strangled his cellmate, mutilated the body and then wore the guy’s ears around his neck to breakfast. I’d call that violent, all right. You don’t survive a decade on the inside of a place like that without resorting to your baser instincts. Put it this way—now that Derrick Sway’s a free man, I wouldn’t want to meet up with him in a dark alley. Or on the street in broad daylight, for that matter.”
“When did he get out?” Jake asked.
“I don’t know. Been a while, I guess. Last I heard, he was living over in Yulee with his mother. Probably freeloading off her social security.”
Jake studied Lyle’s expression. He seemed genuinely distressed by Derrick Sway’s release. “You haven’t seen him around Black Creek?”
“Black Creek, no. But about a month or so back, a buddy of mine was fishing on Lake Seminole. He said a man came out of the woods looking all wide-eyed and crazy. Had these crude tattoos on his neck and arms. Dark stuff like skulls and horns and snakes. Prison gang tats, mostly likely. My friend, Carl, swore the man looked just like Derrick Sway.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. The guy never said a word, just came to the edge of the water and stood there staring at Carl. He thought for a moment that the dude was going to wade out after him. Maybe knock him in the head and steal his boat. Then he just turned and walked back into the woods. Gave Carl the creeps. He hightailed it out of there and never went back to that spot. I didn’t give it much thought until you started asking all these questions about Maya’s disappearance.”
“Do you know the exact location of this sighting?” Jake asked.
“No, but Carl owns a store just south of town. C & C’s Tire Service. You can go by there and ask him yourself. Tell him I sent you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Crowder. You’ve been a big help.”
“You bet.” He thrust a hand in his pocket and jangled some change. “There is one other thing. I don’t know if I should even bring it up. Maybe it means something, maybe it doesn’t.”
“I’m listening.”
The jangling stopped and his expression turned grim. “After Sway got arrested, there was talk around town that Reggie was the one who turned him in. If he’s carried a grudge against her all these years, God help her. If he had anything to do with that little Buchanan girl’s disappearance, God have mercy.”