Wild Secret

We got to the point where we had looked everywhere on the island that we could think of. Took his boat out looking too, but never thought to look for a barrel under the water."
“Did you have access to a boat at that time?" I asked.
“My dad had a 23-foot center-console. He let me borrow it from time to time." His face tightened. “Don't think I don't know where you’re going with this. I didn't have nothing to do with Skyler's disappearance. So, you guys need to get that out of your head right now."
"Were you having any problems or disagreements with Skyler?"
He shrugged. "I mean, we used to fight a lot. But that's how you know you really love someone. Only somebody you really care about can piss you off that way."
"That's an interesting viewpoint,” I said.
"That's passion," he said.
Heather scoffed again.
"You better keep your mouth shut, or I'm gonna show you real passion,” Marshall said in a sharp tone.
Noonan wasn't the brightest bulb in the box, making a veiled threat to his girlfriend in the presence of police officers.
"So, you never got physical with Skyler?" I asked, my voice thick with sarcasm.
"What do you mean, physical? I mean, we got physical alright," he said with a sly grin. "We used to fuck like rabbits."
"I bet she enjoyed that," Heather said flatly.
Noonan's face tensed, and he glared at her again.
"You never got passionate with your fists?" I asked.
Noonan's angry eyes burned into me. "I told you. I never hit her."
He looked over his shoulder at Heather as a warning to keep her mouth shut.
She kept watching the TV and took a drag from her cigarette.
"Tell me about Skyler’s uncle,” I said.
"We got along. Like I said, we searched the high heavens for her. I never met Skyler's dad. Paul was the closest thing to a father she had. We’d drink a beer together on occasion. Even got high once."
“Did Skyler ever mention anything about being pregnant?"
Noonan's brow lifted. “She was pregnant?"
I nodded.
"Do you guys know who the father is?"
“We’d sure like to find out."
He thought about it for a moment. "I guess it is possible. We didn’t always use protection.”
"Do you know if she was seeing anyone else at the time?"
His face reddened. "I was all she needed."
Heather scoffed again.
Noonan shot her another glare.
“Are you willing to give us a DNA sample?" I asked.
Marshall hesitated for a moment. “I’ll have to decline, gentlemen."
"What's the harm in giving a sample?"
"I ain’t giving you guys shit without a court order. You're barking up the wrong tree. You need to be looking at that dweeb Tommy Halford. That's the kind of guy that would kill her and stuff her in a barrel."
"Why do you say that?"
"That little geek couldn't get laid in a whore house. He was always following Skyler around. I had to beat his ass one day."
“And how did that work out?"
"Obviously not too well, or she wouldn't have ended up in a barrel."
We heard a bump followed by a crunch and the sound of breaking glass. A car alarm screeched across the parking lot. An engine roared, and tires squealed.
We glanced to the parking lot as a lapis green hunk of shit pulled out and raced away.
JD's face soured.

24
"Son-of-a-bitch!” JD grumbled, staring at the mangled front end of his Porsche.
The green heap of junk backed into it, dented the hood, busted the headlight, and cracked the front bumper cover. Not a cheap fix by any stretch of the imagination.
"Did you get the plates of that car?"
I shook my head. I asked Noonan if he knew who owned the car.
He just shrugged, and an amused grin curled his weathered face. “Can’t help you.” He paused. “Well, gentlemen, I enjoyed the conversation.” It was clear he didn’t. “Hope you find Skyler’s killer.”
“We’ll be in touch,” I said as he closed the door.
JD’s face was red, and the veins in his temples pulsed.
"You want to wait for the driver to come back?"
"I got a better idea." JD marched to the nearest mobile home and banged on the door.
Nobody answered so Jack moved on to the next. Another knock, and no answer.
He moved to a third trailer and hammered a heavy fist, repeatedly knocking.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” a creaky old voice replied.
JD flashed his badge when the annoyed old lady pulled open the door. "You know who drives a beat to shit dark green import with Bondo on the quarter-panels?"
“That eye-sore? That’s Darby’s car. Lives with RayLynn.” She pointed across the parking lot to another trailer. “What’s he done now?”
“Bastard ran into my car. You know his last name?”
“Nope. Don’t know what RayLynn sees in him. Then again, she ain’t no prize, neither.”
He thanked the woman and shuffled down the steps. We marched across the lot to RayLynn’s trailer, climbed the steps, and knocked on the door.
RayLynn pulled open the door a moment later. She was a rail-thin red-head in her mid 40s with a tanned face wrinkled like shoe leather. Pretty blue eyes. Missing a few teeth.
JD flashed his badge.
RayLynn groaned. “If this is about that bitch, Mary Lou, she swung first. It was self-defense.”
JD and I exchanged a quick glance.
“No,” JD said. “It’s not about Mary Lou. It’s about Darby and that green hunk of shit he drives.”
“What about him?”
“He live here?”
“He ain’t got a place of his own.”
“Know where he went?”
“To get some beer and more cigarettes. What’s he done now?”
“What store?”
“How the hell should I know?”
“What’s Darby’s last name?”
“Glick.”
“Thanks,” JD said, then plunged down the steps.
“What’s this about?” she shouted after us.
JD ignored her and called the Sheriff’s Department. He told dispatch to put a BOLO out for Darby Glick and his green trash heap for felony hit and run. He marched back to the parking lot and surveyed the damage again. He frowned and shook his head. Jack was having terrible luck with the car.
We waited around for a while, but Darby didn’t show. I had a sneaking suspicion that RayLynn called and tipped him off.
We headed