John R. Petrie - Buried Secrets

Table of Contents

By John R. Petrie

A Timothy and Wyatt Mystery

The son of an alcoholic mother, Wyatt Courtland skips school to work construction to help the family survive. When he finds a lockbox containing a series of articles about Bobby LaFleur, a student who went missing four years ago, he enlists the help of sheriffs son Timothy Mitchell to learn what happened to Bobby.

Timothy wants to go into law enforcement, even if its against his fathers wishes. He figures solving this case will convince his dad he can handle police work, but as he digs deeper, he uncovers a string of missing boysand the truth about Wyatts desire to find out what truly happened to Bobby. As the two grow closer, they realize the mystery is far more sinister than they imaginedand its a secret someone is willing to kill to protect.

To my dad. Thank you for everything. Youre my hero.

To Maria and Cara for always being there.

THANKS TO Alisha Klauger and Christine DeLuna for reading early drafts and letting me know when I was on the right track and on the wrong one.

Thanks to the real Julia Madden for being my sister.

As always thanks to Danny, Drew, Justin, Matthew, Vita, Emma, and Carson, just because.

Many, many thanks to everyone at Harmony Ink and Dreamspinner: Anne, Dawn, Jaime, Janet, and everyone there. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

WYATT CORTLAND was sweating in the stifling heat, swinging the sledgehammer into the wall, working out his anger with every impact. His shirt was soaked, and he could hear the other two guys on the crew upstairs taking out the bathroom and the bedroom walls. They put him down in the living room because he was the new guy and there was only one window, meaning by the time they ended the workday, hed be covered in sweat, dust, and grime. He didnt care, and he wiped his sweaty forehead with a sweaty forearm. Wyatt dropped the hammer on the floor and grabbed a piece of the wall.

Something square and dusty caught his eye. Leaning against a beam, it was covered in dirt and grime, and he stared at it for a moment. Wyatt bent down and pulled it out of the wall. It was a metal box, not too heavy, still locked and covered in dust. The hinges werent rusted, just dirty. Wyatt could hear something moving around inside the box when he carefully shook it. More than one something. Hed heard stories about people finding hidden fortunes in walls. Money. Jewelry. He listened to the guys banging away upstairs and quietly left the house. He slipped the box underneath the passenger seat of his pickup truck. Wyatt took a minute to light up a quick cigarette and take a few drags before he went back in, picked up the hammer, and swung again.

SHERIFF BENJAMIN Mitchell picked up the smaller coffee cup from the holder and handed it to his son, who slouched in the passenger seat.

Timmy, hold your coffee, please.

Timothy. His son looked up and smiled at his dad. If you dont call me by my name, how am I supposed to get anyone else to?

Thats on you, kiddo. And sit up straight. Youll ruin your posture.

Timothy gulped from his coffee. You have anything outstanding tonight, or are you actually coming home for dinner?

Ha. Ha. I love the fact that youre acting as if Im an absentee father. The sheriff pulled over to the corner and put the car in Park. He waved at Lacey, Timothys friend, and held out his fist for his son to bump. Ill see you tonight. Are you getting a ride home?

Timothy smiled. Not sure. Ill see if I can get one of the track team guys to give me a lift.

His father shook his head and grunted. Incorrigible. He sighed heavily. I guess anyones better than Ethan .

Ethan wasnt too bad, Dad. Heh. Bad Dad.

Laugh it up, Timmy. He reached into the back seat and handed Timothy a bag lunch. He was a dick.

Dad! Seriously, youre the worst.

Yep, his father said as Timothy pushed the door open. He leaned over and raised his voice. Im the worst dad ever!

Timothy laughed and waved as he headed toward his friend, Lacey Cutler. Lacey wore a pair of white shoes with red shoelaces and black pants. Her T-shirt was tie-dyed red and black, and she had red and black streaks in her brown hair to match. She was smiling and stayed sitting on the ledge of the steps as she waited for him.

Hey, babe! Timothy smiled at her and dropped his bag on the ground. Nice look today, Little Edie. Hed named her after Edie Beale from the movie Grey Gardens shortly after theyd become friends because she always wore whatever she wanted, regardless of weather or fashion. They werent exactly best friends, but he liked the fact that she didnt expect him to be the stereotype of a Gay Best Friend. Plus her aunt was gay, and they visited her over in Greenville as often as they could.

Thanks, Lacey said as she pulled a bottle of water out of her bag. My aunt did the streaks last night. She sipped from her bottle and pointed at his coffee cup. Youre going to kill yourself with that stuff, especially at this stage of your development. Boys your age are in special need of the proper nutrition.

Nope, Timothy replied, downing his remaining coffee. Not becoming a vegetarian.

Do you have my stuff, Tim? The new voice was deep and thick with a Southern accent.

Timothy, Bo, he replied without looking around. Not Tim. Not Timmy. Timothy. And yeah, I have your stuff.

Youre not in California anymore, Tim. Youre in South Carolina, so now youre Tim. Bo Watterley crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Timothy. He was trying to be intimidating, but he wasnt any bigger than Timothy, so the sheriffs son simply smiled.

I have it. He reached into his bag and pulled out a manila folder. Here you go. You have my money?

Bo grabbed the folder and sneered, a quick snort of air coming out of his mouth. Im getting this for free, faggot.

Look, Bo. You hired me to run a background check on your parents. I did it. We agreed on seventy-five bucks. Pay me.

Fuck off. Bo looked down at the file and started walking into the school.

You can have that one for free, but the juicy stuff is in the second file. That sentence stopped Bo, like Timothy knew it would.

Bo walked back to Timothy and Lacey. Yeah, right.

Seriously. Its good stuff. Youll love it.

Youre lying. Bo dropped the folder he had on the ground and threw a punch at Timothy, who grabbed the hand long before it reached him. Timothy wrapped his own arm around Bos elbow. He brought his leg behind Bos and swept him down to the ground, bouncing his head on the dirt. Timothy shot his own fist forward, stopping barely an inch from Bos nose.

Nope. Not lying. Also, a brown belt in Goju karate. You want the new file. Pay me. I take a risk every time I run one of these reports and I dont like taking risks. He twisted Bos arm slightly and heard a couple of girls snicker as they walked by the scene while Lacey calmly sipped from her water. The price has gone up to one hundred. Due by tomorrow, at which time I will give you the rest of the report. Got it?

Shit. Shit. Shit. Yeah. Yeah. Fuck, man, youre gonna break my arm.

Timothy dropped Bos arm and took a step back and away from him. Good. He bent down and picked up his bag. And dont use the word faggot again. Its rude and hateful. And, next time you do, I will break it.

Lacey jumped down off the ledge, and they walked into the school. Rough.

I know, but hes been on my case since day one. And I didnt really hurt him. Besides, I dont mind a little rough. He reached the door and held it open for her.

Is there really a second file?

Of course. He didnt tell her that he still planned to hold back some information. There wasnt any need for Bo to know that his dad had an outstanding warrant in Alabama. Bo didnt need to know that his dad was a deadbeat who owed money to his first wife, who he never actually divorced and with whom hed had a daughter. Timothy didnt like Bo, but he wasnt cruel. And even though he wasnt doing anything technically illegal, Timothy knew doing background checks on his schoolmates parents wouldnt be looked upon kindly by his dad.