Alex Barclay - The Drowning Child

I wonder were you the one who found your son’s body.

‘OK... shoot,’ said Shannon. ‘Ask me anything.’ She tried to smile.

‘You bought this place off John Veir,’ said Ren.

Shannon nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘What can you tell me about John?’ said Ren. ‘What kind of man is he?’

Shannon briefly glanced away. ‘He’s a good guy. It was a quick sale, he wanted to offload the place, but he was kind enough to fix a lot of things up before I took it on. He’s a trained military diver, so he did a lot of the underwater work on the jetty. Basically, anything I had an issue with, he took care of. He didn’t have to do that.’

Ren nodded. ‘Did you get to know his family?’

‘Um... no, not really,’ said Shannon.

Ooh... what was that?

‘Did you ever see anything that gave you cause for concern?’ said Ren.

‘With John? No – not at all,’ said Shannon. ‘Why do you ask? You don’t think he had anything to do with Caleb’s disappearance...’

‘Just information-gathering,’ said Ren.

‘OK,’ said Shannon, ‘because John Veir is a good man.’

‘I just realized,’ said Ren, ‘your son, Aaron, and Caleb were around the same age. Did they know each other?’

‘Well, they went to the same school – Aaron was a year behind Caleb, but I don’t think they knew each other.’

What is this weird vibe?

‘Can I ask you about your nephew, Seth?’ said Ren. ‘He was in BRCI. Did he and John know each other?’

‘Yes.’ Eye-dart.

‘Was there ever any issue between them?’ said Ren.

‘No,’ said Shannon. ‘Not that I know of, anyway. Seth would have said.’

‘We’ve been told that Seth took a particular interest in Caleb Veir,’ said Ren.

‘What? Caleb?’

Genuine shock.

‘That sounds terrible,’ said Shannon. ‘“Particular interest” – what do you mean by that?’

‘We heard that Seth might buy him a soda, or pay for things for him at the store,’ said Ren. ‘Do you know anything about that?’

‘No,’ said Shannon. ‘Why don’t you ask him yourself, though? He’s right over there. Don’t waste your time looking at Seth for this. He’s just a nice guy. When he’s got money, he likes to look after people – that’s all. Tonight, he’s paying for Clyde Brimmer’s drinks.’

Ren handed Shannon her card. ‘If you think of anything, please feel free to call me.’

Ren turned her attention to Seth, walked over to him.

‘Seth Fuller?’ she said. ‘I’m Ren Bryce, I’m with the FBI, working on the Caleb Veir disappearance. Could I talk to you for a moment, please?’

She tilted her head toward a table in the corner.

You have now recognized me from the search. And you are not a happy man.

Seth walked over to the table, sat down opposite her, and pulled his stool back a few inches.

‘What can I do you for?’ he said. He looked up at the clock on the wall. ‘Isn’t it a little late to be working?’

‘Not when a child is missing,’ said Ren.

He nodded. ‘I suppose so.’

‘How well did you know Caleb Veir?’ said Ren.

‘Not very well,’ said Seth. ‘Why?’

‘Are you sure about that?’ said Ren.

‘Sure I’m sure,’ said Seth. ‘Why?’

‘Is it true that you bought him sodas, candy sometimes, and that you paid for comic books when he didn’t have enough money?’

Seth looked away. ‘Yeah. So what?’

‘So what? He’s a missing child and we were informed that you paid him a lot of attention...’

‘What?’ said Seth. ‘I was nice to the kid. That’s it. I’m not into little boys. Fuck that. I’d happily beat the shit out of someone who was into little boys. I’m into grown women.’

Something flashed in his eyes.

Ugh. ‘Was there something in particular about Caleb...?’

‘Nothing – I told you. Nothing. I was just nice to him. Big deal. Arrest me.’

‘What about John Veir?’ said Ren. ‘Did you know John?’

His eyes flicked over to Shannon and back again.

‘Seth, is there something you’re not telling me?’ said Ren. ‘Or something you feel you can’t say? I can promise you it will be treated in the strictest confidence. A little boy’s life could be at stake here. I know you can understand the devastation that losing a child can cause...’

‘There’s nothing,’ said Seth, ‘except I think John Veir is a good man, OK? In case you’re thinking he’s not.’

Ren nodded. ‘OK.’ She handed him her notebook. ‘I’m going to need you to write down where you were on Sunday night and yesterday.’

‘That’s easy,’ he said, twisting the notebook around to face him. ‘I was here Sunday night – Aunt Shannon and Clyde Brimmer can vouch for that.’

Cute that he still calls her Aunt.

‘From what time?’ said Ren.

‘Uh... ten thirty p.m.?’

‘And where were you before that?’

‘Uh... I was in town. In Tate. In Bucky’s, having a burger, watching television.’ He wrote all this down.

‘And yesterday?’

‘I was here, I slept late. Then I was helping Aunt Shannon behind the bar.’

‘OK,’ said Ren. She handed him a card and took the notebook back. ‘If you think of anything...’

‘Sure,’ said Seth. ‘I’ll call.’

Ren walked down the steps of The Crow Bar. She started to check her cell phone. In the light of the screen, she noticed something shining on the ground. She turned on her flashlight, crouched down, and ran the beam across the ground. There were several small shards of ceramics in different colors. She moved the light up to the plant pots on the porch outside the door of the bar. They looked new. There were price tags on some of them.

Maybe one of the storms blew them over.

All of them?

Ren glanced at the time on her phone. It was close to midnight.

I am wide awake.

Can’t bear that empty hotel room.

She went around the back of the bar, the thick mud pulling at her boots as she walked. She inhaled the fresh smell of the water, the grass, the soil. She jammed her hands into her pockets, stared out across the surface.

God, I love lakes.

She was drawn to the water’s edge, mesmerized by the rippling water. She walked closer.

I want to be down there.

I want to be swallowed up.

Jimmy Lyle sat in the corner of the Internet café. He was logged in to the site under Rapid01. Seeing the name Lynn96 blinking, ready to chat, accelerated his heart rate every time.

Rapid01: Hey...

Lynn96: Wr u bn?

Rapid01: Sorry. Family stuff

Lynn96: U stil cmng?

Rapid01: Y

Lynn96: $350

Rapid01: Y

Lynn96: Y – ready

Rapid01: Both?

Lynn96: Y. Saturday 2pm?

Rapid01: C u then

The images filled his head. His entire body felt filled. His dick was hard. He was thinking only of the kids, not of Lynn96. Lynn was not to be visualized. Lynn, he figured, was a crack whore, a meth head, a junkie, someone willing to sell four hours with her two kids for $350. He wondered how she came to her price.

The rules of the café were printed on an A4 sheet stuck to the wall: RESPECT OTHER CUSTOMERS, NO PORN. Jimmy looked around. There were only two other customers, in the furthest corners. He took off his jacket, put it across his lap. He slipped his hand underneath it, unzipped his fly. The guy from behind the counter came out with an antibacterial spray and a cloth. He eyeballed Jimmy as he sprayed down the surface three tables down.

Jimmy zipped up his jeans, put his hand back on the mouse, clicked a few times, looked interested. His mind was in Lynn’s back garden. The sun was glistening on the pool. The children were standing beside it. He was kneeling by the water, smiling at them.