Wild Secret

feeling still lingered in the air.
I called Deborah and gave her the news.
She broke down into sobs. "Are you sure about this?"
"We'll have confirmation when the DNA comes back. But it’s a foregone conclusion at this point. Do you remember anything odd about Paul’s behavior the day of her disappearance?"
"He was worried at the time. At least, it appeared that way. I mistook his guilt and nervousness for concern.” She was silent a moment, then suddenly gasped. "I remember he drove a pickup at the time. And now that I think about it, there was a steel drum in the back of his pickup that afternoon. It had been in the garage for a long time, and he said he was going to sell it to a friend who wanted to turn it into a barbecue pit. Oh, dear Lord! Please don't tell me Skyler was in that barrel."
I hated to tell her it was a distinct possibility. Paul had killed the girl in the afternoon when she came home from school. He stuffed her into the barrel and waited until he had a chance to dispose of it.
We chatted more, and I did my best to comfort her. Deborah agreed to testify against Paul should the need arise.
“Thank you for discovering the truth, as difficult as it is to hear,” she said.
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Locke. I wish things could have been different for Skyler.”
“Me too, Deputy. Me too.”
I ended the call and frowned.
“Don’t take it so hard,” JD said. “We got that scumbag.”
“I know.”
We wrapped up at the station and headed over to Totally Tubular to grab a bite to eat. It was a surf-themed bar with boards hanging from the ceiling and pictures of big waves.
Jack ordered coconut shrimp as an appetizer and a Tasty Tube Burger. I went with the mushroom cheeseburger.
In all the excitement of the morning, I had forgotten to call Crash and give him the bad news. I dialed his number. I figured he’d be out of bed by now, but there was never a guarantee with those guys. They were predominantly night owls.
Crash’s scratchy voice filtered through the phone when he answered. "Yo, T! What's up?"
"Not much. Is Faye with you right now?"
"No, she just left."
"Did she tell you what happened with the band last night?" I asked gingerly.
"Yeah, I heard all about the drama."
“And you’re cool with everything?" I asked, just to make sure he'd been given the full story.
"Yeah. I'm not thrilled about it. But we were split up at the time. What am I gonna do? She was honest with me about it."
"Okay, cool. Just FYI, Lip Bomb needs a bass player now."
He laughed. "Count me out. I’d never hear the end of it if I filled in for her."
I chuckled. “I understand. I’ll catch you later."
I breathed a sigh of relief after ending the call. “Well, that went easier than expected.”
"He's at the point where there’s nothing to deter him,” JD said. He shook his head. “Faye sure does like to start drama, doesn't she?"
"She has a gift for it."
We finished up and headed back to the car. We were walking down the sidewalk when Denise called. "Guess who just got arrested for shoplifting."
“I have no idea.”
“Jared’s brother, Trevor Landis. Trevor and a buddy skipped school and tried to five-finger a Rolex from the boutique at the Highland Village Mall. He wants to talk to you. Asked for you by name."
"Really? We’ll be right there."
I told JD, and we climbed into the Porsche and zipped back to the station.

40
“I can give you what you want,” Trevor said, handcuffed in the interrogation room.
"Start talking," I said.
"Not until we have a deal." Trevor was a sharp kid.
"What kind of deal do you want?" I knew exactly what he wanted.
"I get my little brother to tell you who paid him to swap the license plates on April’s car, and my legal problems go away." He flashed a bright smile.
"What makes you think I'll take that deal?"
"I figure you'll do whatever it takes to find out who killed your cop buddy."
"How do you know your little brother is going to cooperate?"
"Because I’ll beat his ass if he doesn't."
I looked at JD. He was all for it.
"Let me take it to the powers that be. I'm sure we can come to an agreement."
He flashed a confident smile. "I know that we can.”
A guard buzzed us out of the interrogation room, and I called Todd McLean, an assistant district attorney, and pitched the deal. We had worked on a few cases previously, and I knew he'd go for it. It was a no-brainer. It didn't take long to have an agreement drafted. Trevor signed on the dotted line. If his little brother gave us information that led to the arrest and conviction of Chuck's killers, Trevor would walk—a fair enough trade.
I called Trevor's mother and informed her of the situation. She brought Jared up to the station as soon as he got out of school. I escorted them into the conference room and offered them a seat.
JD and I sat across the table from them, and Sheriff Daniels stood in the corner.
Jared remained tightlipped and surveyed us with suspicious eyes.
"Go ahead, Jared,” his mother said. “Tell these gentlemen what they want to know."
"What's in it for me?"
"You get your brother out of jail."
"I will repeat the question. What's in it for me?"
His mother's face tensed. "You get to make it to your 13th birthday. That's what's in it for you."
"I want his room."
She scowled at him.
"I want his room or no deal."
"Don't push me, Jared."
"You gotta give to get."
The kid drove a hard bargain. I had to give him that.
"You're about to cross a line," his mother threatened.
Jared stood firm, folding his arms. He said nothing.
His mother finally caved. "Fine. You can have his room."
Jared smiled, "Ain't nobody gonna know I said something, right?"
"There may be a point in time where you may be required to testify," I said.
Concern bathed his mother's face. "Meaning