Snake Skin by CJ Lyons Page B

advanced from a stylistic
view point," Dunkin said. "But very primal in its energy."
    Primal. That was a tame word for it.
    Terrified, a child trying to claw her way
out of a dungeon, desperate and despairing would be a better
description. Each canvas revealed an amorphously feminine shadow
dwarfed by one nightmare image after another.
    In one, the girl—for all its womanly curves,
the figure felt immature, very young—was about to be stamped on by
a giant boot. It was impossible to tell if the black Doc Maarten
was a man's or woman's.
    In the next, she ran, looking over her
shoulder at dark shadows, not realizing that she was trapped in a
labyrinth formed by the coils of a monstrous serpent. It waited
ahead of her, mouth open in anticipation.
    And so on. Darkness, shadows, fear,
helplessness, bleak despair. No hope, no light, no escape.
    "Were her grades dropping?" Guardino
asked.
    "Yes, last year she went from a B student to
C's and D's," Dunkin said. "I tried to arrange a meeting with the
parents, but," she shrugged, "they were too busy."
    "Did Ashley talk with you at all, give you
any idea what was going on?"
    "I tried to get her to open up, but she only
spoke through her art. These were from the end of last year. This
year, I hoped things were looking up." Dunkin reached into a
vertical cabinet and pulled out a heavy sheet of watercolor paper.
"She left the acrylics and her dark palette behind. Started this
two weeks ago."
    Burroughs wouldn't have recognized the
watercolor as being the work of the same artist. Here there were
two forms, drawn proportionately, one male, one female. They were
silhouetted by either a sunset or sunrise, features hidden, but
their posture was one of purpose. Most telling of all, they held
hands. Partners. Traveling into an unknown, unseen future. But
together.
    "It's a bit precious, but I encourage
experimentation."
    Guardino turned the paper so he could read
the scrawled words at the bottom corner. Ashley had titled her
painting: The Escape.
     
     
    The art teacher hadn't been able to give them
any more helpful information, but she did let Lucy take Ashley's
most recent work. They had just gotten back on Route 22, were
planning to stop for lunch, when Lucy's cell rang. "Guardino
here."
    "Hey, LT. I got something. That camera you
found in the vic's room—"
    "The victim has a name, Taylor."
    "Yeah, right. The camera you found in Ashley's room belongs to her father, not Tardiff."
    "Is he still at the house?"
    "Hang on, I'll check." She filled in
Burroughs while she waited. Taylor returned. "No. The dad's back at
his home." He rattled off an address and Burroughs nodded, making
an illegal u-turn and ignoring the honking of disgruntled
drivers.
    "Do we have a warrant for his place?"
    "Yep. I can meet you there, go over his
electronics." Taylor was eager, ready to take credit for cracking
the case.
    She hated to remind him that no one would
care about the credit unless they found Ashley alive. If the father
was involved with her disappearance, the odds of that just took a
drastic plunge.
    "Sounds like a plan." She hung up and stared
at Burroughs as he finessed the car through the weekend traffic on
the Parkway. "What's your beef with schools?"
    He yanked the wheel, cutting off a semi as
he changed lanes. "Huh?"
    His pretense of being preoccupied with
traffic didn't fool her. "You didn't say a word the entire time we
were in there. And don't blame it on the pretty art teacher with
the cute ass you couldn't take your eyes off."
    "Hey, I can look, c-can't I?"
    Ahh, when he was angry she caught the slight
stutter. Okay, just so it wasn't something bigger, something that
might interfere with her search for Ashley. She was silent for a
moment. "You're right, my mistake."
    He turned to look at her, a scowl crossing
his features. "You thought—Jesus lady, g-get your mind out of the
g-gutter, why don't you!"
    "Sorry." She meant it; she should have used
more tact. "But this case is technically out of