Read The Savage Murder of Skylar Neese: The Truth Behind the Headlines for Free Online

to images of Skylar at a party, Skylar drunk, Skylar drugged after a boy slipped her a roofie. She even envisioned Skylar deserted in a dark corner after passing out at a party.
    “I did see Skylar. She snuck out about eleven. Rachel and I picked her up and we went joyriding for about forty-five minutes. She made me drop her off at the end of the road so we wouldn’t wake you.”
    Mary was momentarily relieved. She was more concerned about the girls sneaking around than the thought of some random stranger snatching Skylar off the street. That kind of scenario seemed far-fetched in their tiny town.
    “Why do you girls continue to sneak out when we’ve told you just come to us when you want to do something?” Mary scolded. “You don’t need to do this sneaking stuff.” Mary didn’t know how upset she was until she realized she’d lit her cigarette inside the kitchen, a strict violation of their lease. She opened the sliding door and stepped out on the balcony. “We can’t find Skylar anywhere.”
    “I heard. Do you know what happened yet?”
    “We don’t know.”
    At that moment Tara, Shelia’s mother, got on the line.
    “Mary, what’s going on?” Tara asked. 2
    “I don’t know. We can’t find her. Wendy’s called and she hasn’t showed up at work.” At that moment, worry seized Mary Neese’s heart. Somehow, just by saying the words “we can’t find her,” Mary truly realized that Skylar was missing.
    “Do you want us to come over?”
    “Yes, I do.”
    ***
    When Shelia and Tara arrived, they accompanied Mary as she went door to door down one side of Crawford Avenue, asking if anyone had seen her daughter. Dave waited for Officer Bob McCauley, of the Star City police, to respond to the 911 call. McCauley arrived at 4:41, and the two of them covered the other side of Crawford. No one had seen a missing sixteen-year-old girl.
    Contrary to the rumors that Shelia was crying that day, she did not cry during this search. Dave described her face as impassive and expressionless, her walk slightly wooden. At the time, Mary thought it was because Shelia was so upset, because she was scared. Shelia’s mother, Tara, had cried when she first got to the apartment, but Shelia hadn’t.
    After the door-to-door search proved fruitless, the five of them walked back to the apartment. That’s when Mary had an idea:
the surveillance video.
She was surprised the police hadn’t already checked it. Security cameras had been installed around the small apartment building, primarily to capture shots of people trying to break in. Cameras were also trained on the inside hallways of both floors. Jim Gaston, the landlord, could access the security tapes. Dave called him, and Gaston said he’d be right over.
    An unmarked door close to the Neeses’ apartment led to Gaston’s small video room, the size of a walk-in closet. The landlord sat at the computer controls, and the six of them—Dave, Mary, Tara, Shelia, and Officer McCauley—crowded around to watch the large monitor. Jim chose the view from the side of the apartment where Skylar’s room was located. The camera faced the complex’s parking lot, a small side street, and another apartment building across the way. Jim rewound the tape and let it play forward at double speed.
    “Wait, wait,” Dave said when he thought he’d seen something. “Back it up.”
    Jim rewound the tape and the six of them saw part of Skylar’s head blur past. Then nothing for a few seconds, although Dave noticed the shadowy image of a car in the background of the video. The time signature on the video read 12:31.
    He tapped the screen. “You picked her up at eleven, Shelia?”
    Shelia studied the image. “Yes.”
    Suddenly, Skylar’s head emerged, and she was seen walking briskly toward a gray car. She opened the back door and climbed into the backseat. There was no sign of a struggle. No indication the people inside were strangers. No clue of any foul play whatsoever. Then the car