Skink--No Surrender Read Online Free PDF Page A

dad.”
    “Mr. and Mrs. Spence said no. They said everything was good. She was okay with boarding school was their impression.”
    “Then it was him,” I said. “The fake Talbo Chock. He must’ve talked her into it.”
    Trujillo had a small notebook flipped open in one hand. “Did Malley have any boyfriends here in town?”
    “No. She thought all the guys at school were dorksand posers.” I told the detective what little Malley had said about her dashing Talbo.
    “But she never mentioned how old he was? What he looked like?”
    “Nope.” I regretted that I hadn’t asked her more than once.
    “Richard, would you say your cousin was a stable person?”
    “She’s not wacko crazy, but she’s definitely a rebel.”
    Trujillo said he’d already interviewed Beth and she knew even less than I did. He said Malley had warned Beth to keep quiet about her running away or else she’d tell Beth’s boyfriend that Beth liked somebody else, which I knew happened to be true. Beth liked me.
    “Richard, did Malley threaten to get you in trouble in some way if you told her parents what really happened?”
    “No, sir,” I lied.
    “If she calls again, I’d like you to keep a log—time, date, exactly what she says. Everything you can think of, even if it doesn’t seem important. I’ll give you a notebook like mine. The texts you can save on your phone, all right?”
    “Sure.” I’d already deleted the ones from Malley about Saint Augustine.
    Trujillo handed me a notebook and a blue Bic pen. I asked how they were going to find the true identity of the guy pretending to be Talbo Chock. The detective speculated that the “perpetrator” was from the Fort WaltonBeach area and that he must have seen the newspaper and TV reports about the real Talbo Chock’s death. Otherwise where would he have come up with the name? Trujillo thought it was even possible that the man might have some personal connection to the young Marine.
    “State investigators are up in the Panhandle now,” he said, “interviewing Corporal Chock’s friends and family members.”
    “What if Malley doesn’t call me?” I asked. “Or call anybody?”
    “Well …” Trujillo was pondering how to phrase it. “That could mean something bad has happened,” he said, “or it could mean she just doesn’t want to be found yet.”
    I’d been carrying my cell 24/7, even when I went into the bathroom. There hadn’t been a peep from Malley since she’d called from that blocked number and ordered me to wait a week before telling her family the whole story. By now she definitely knew that I hadn’t waited even one whole day; it was all over Facebook, Twitter, YouTube and, of course, the television stations. I’d figured she would phone just to yell at me, or at least call my mother to drop the Saint Augustine bomb.
    The dead silence wasn’t like Malley. Not her style.
    Aunt Sandy and Uncle Dan were constantly checking in, asking if I’d heard anything from her. I felt really bad for them. Sometimes Sandy would be crying, which would make me choke up, too.
    After that first week had passed, I wondered if Malley had gotten where she was planning to go. I hoped she had. I hoped she was the one in control.
    The Amber Alert remained in place, but the story started fading from the news. A little boy in Wellington had gone missing, snatched from kindergarten by his stepfather. The missing boy was sick and needed special medicine, so his case was now getting all the media attention.
    Meanwhile, Mom and Uncle Dan offered a $10,000 reward and chipped in for six highway billboards that displayed Malley’s photograph and an 800 number for tips. In the blown-up version of my cousin’s class picture, her hair was red (although in person you would call it cinnamon) and the light freckles on her nose looked as bright as a rash. She wasn’t wearing her regular smile because of her braces, which she complained had made her look like a constipated squirrel.
    Still,