Chapter 33
T?HEY WERE NEARING THEIR HOTEL when Decker’s phone rang. It was Barry Davidson. He sounded frantic.
“I can’t find my son. Tyler didn’t come home from school today. I’ve tried his phone and left messages. None of his friends know where he is.”
“Okay, just calm down. We’ll be right over.”
They cleared the gate and rode the elevator up. Davidson was waiting for them at his front door.
They could both smell the liquor on his breath as he hurried them inside.
“When was the last time you saw or spoke to him?” asked White.
“This morning, around eight. He was leaving for school.”
“I didn’t think he’d be going back to school so soon,” noted Decker.
“He…he said he wanted to, to get his mind off things.”
“You said you talked to his friends?” said White.
“Yes, one of them told me that Tyler had left school early. And Tyler hasn’t answered his phone or returned my texts. He’s usually very good at doing so.”
“He might not have his phone with him,” said Decker.
“He always has his phone,” countered Davidson.
“The cops won’t do anything yet, unless we have information that he might be in danger, or distress,” said White.
Davidson slumped into a chair and reached out for what looked to be a glass of whiskey.
“And getting drunk won’t help matters,” pointed out Decker. “In case Tyler needs you.”
Davidson withdrew his hand and looked guiltily at them. “I’m…I’m afraid he might…I don’t know. Hurt himself.”
“Did he ever talk about doing something like that?” asked White, a note of urgency in her voice.
“No, but he never lost his mother before,” retorted Davidson.
“Does he have any usual haunts, places he likes to go, to think, or be alone?”
“Nothing particular, no.”
“Any girlfriends?” asked White.
“He did, but they broke up a month ago. I called her, but she hasn’t heard from Tyler.”
“What’s his normal routine?” asked Decker.
“He gets up around six and goes for a run, usually on the beach with some other players. Then he works out at the gym in the building here. I had to pay for extra weights, by the way,” he added proudly. “They didn’t have enough for him. Then he goes to school. Then he works out some more there. Then he comes home. He’s usually here by six or so.”
“Okay, but it’s only seven thirty now,” said White.
“But I’ve been calling him since noon. I wanted to see how he was doing and if he wanted to help me…help me pick out some music for his mother’s funeral service.”
“When did his friend say he left school?” asked Decker.
“Around two. But he didn’t say where he was going.”
“And they just let him leave?” said White.
“He only had a study hall left.”
“Did he mention to you this morning about leaving school early, or going somewhere?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Did he take his car today?” asked White.
“Yes.”
“Give us the address of his school,” said Decker.
Davidson wrote it down and handed it to him.
“While we’re here, can you answer a few questions about your ex-wife?” said Decker.
“What?” said Davidson irritably.
“Was your wife seeing anyone, I mean, romantically?” asked Decker.
Davidson seemed to shrivel in the face of this question. “I don’t know. I…I always hoped that we might reconcile, you know?”
Decker glanced at White. “No, we didn’t know. Care to explain?”
“We had problems. Julia seemed to think they were insurmountable.”
“And you didn’t?” said White.
“I’m probably a hopeless optimist,” Davidson said with a grim smile.
“But your optimism didn’t work. Did that bother you?” asked Decker.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” barked Davidson.
“You wanted to get back together with your ex. She didn’t. Now she’s dead.”
“I didn’t kill her. I was here. Tyler confirmed that. And I had Zoom meetings.”
“Before COVID, I thought ‘Zoom’ was just a verb,” said Decker. “I wish it still was just a verb.”
“Why aren’t you out there looking for my son? Find him, goddammit!”