Daylight (Atlee Pine #3)(115)

“The big one’s Pat’s ride. Nice. Like a little apartment inside. He’s on the road a lot, but he’s obviously home now.”

“Must be pretty hard for his wife with two teens,” noted Blum.

“Oh, Hazel keeps them in line. But they’re both boys, so you’re right, she has her hands full.”

Pat Simmons answered the door and had them come into the small living room. It was neat and sparsely furnished. A seventy-inch Sony TV hung on the wall, and Pine saw a glass-fronted gun cabinet with different models of rifles and shotguns and two handguns inside.

Pat was short and chubby with longish brown hair, and he wore a Kenworth ballcap. His beard was scruffy and his eyes were a dull brown. Hazel Simmons came into the room wiping her hands on a towel. She had on black leggings with a long white T-shirt. She wore no shoes.

She asked them if they wanted something to drink, but they all declined.

Roberts introduced Pine and Blum and they sat down.

“So you’re interested in the folks that used to live here,” said Pat.

Pine nodded. “Joe and Desiree Atkins.”

Pat looked at Roberts. “Yeah, I remember that. Guy got murdered, not in the house but out in the woods.”

“Probably why we got the house so cheap,” added Hazel. “And it’s really not close to anything, grocery stores or hospitals. Both our boys were born in the bedroom. They came too quick to get to the hospital.”

“That must have been tough,” said Blum.

“I did it twice. Never do it again,” said Hazel, laughing.

Pine said, “After you moved in, did you find anything the Atkinses might have left behind?”

Pat shook his head. “Place was pretty well cleared out. Bank took the furniture and sold it, I guess. Along with the personal effects. There were some pots and pans in the kitchen. Some old clothes that they probably overlooked.”

“Do you still have the clothes?”

“No, they long since got donated or thrown in the trash.”

“Did you ever see anything to indicate that three people might have lived here, including a child?”

The couple looked at each other. Pat shook his head. “I didn’t. But I wasn’t around much after we moved in. As you can tell from that big-ass truck outside, I drive for a living.”

Pine looked at Hazel. “How about you?”

Hazel pursed her lips and rubbed her fingers together. “I can’t think of anything that stuck out. And it was a long time ago. The place needed a lot of TLC. It’s only got two bedrooms, so the boys have to double up. But the previous owners didn’t do a lot to keep the place up, I can tell you that.” She suddenly looked up at Pine. “You know, I do remember something. When we first moved in, there were these drawings on a wall in what’s now the boys’ bedroom.”

Pine tensed. “What sort of drawings?”

“They were like you would see a kid do, you know, stick figures. I had forgotten all about them. I painted over them.”

“Do you remember anything else about them?”

Hazel mulled over this. “Well, I do remember there were different scenes, I guess you’d call them. You know, the stick figures playing or sitting at a table.” She smiled. “In one drawing they looked like they were drinking out of cups. And there were always two of them, stick figures, I mean. And they had, well, they had long hair, so I guess they were girls. I remember that because back then we didn’t have kids and I always wanted a girl. Didn’t turn out that way.”

“Maybe they were having a tea party,” said Pine quietly.

Hazel smiled again. “That could be, sure. I used to have tea parties with my sisters and friends when I was little.”

“So maybe the little girl stayed in that bedroom?”

“It could be. By the time we got here, like Pat said, the furniture was gone. I guess you could check with the bank, but I suppose most of those folks are probably no longer there.”

Pine looked out the window. “Are there any other buildings on the grounds?”

“Other buildings?” said Pat. “No, just the house. We don’t even have a garage. I’m gonna put in a carport but haven’t gotten around to it. This place wasn’t a farm or anything, so there’s no barn.”

“There’s the cave,” said a voice.

They all looked up to see a tall, skinny teenage boy standing in the doorway. He had on baggy jeans, a Nike sweatshirt, and an Auburn ball cap. His long hair hung out from under it.

Hazel said, “This is our youngest son, Kyle. What cave are you talking about, son?”

“It’s about a half mile from here. In the woods. It’s cut into a little knoll.” He eyed Pine. “Trey, that’s my brother, and me found it when we were little. We used to play fort and keep some of our stuff there. You know, like a hideout. We would even sneak out and sleep in there.”

Hazel said in a scolding tone, “Kyle James Simmons sleeping in a cave? That’s not safe. It could have fallen in on you and your brother. Or a bear could have been in there.”

“No bear could’ve gotten in there.”

“Why?”

“Cause it had a really thick door with a lock on it. Me and Trey thought maybe it was an old mine or something. I mean, there was stuff in there.”