It was Saturday morning in Haneyville, Tennessee, and the town folk was in for another hot and humid day.
Word had spread around town about the finding of Tiffany’s Buick Special in Lake Haney like wildfire. This was the first clue that surfaced concerning the 1970 disappearance of Tiffany and Howie. All people could talk about was how that car sat at the bottom of the lake for all these years undetected.
Tiffany’s 1962 rusty and mud-covered Buick Special was now parked in a fenced-in back lot behind the Haneyville Police station. This area had a locked gate that was accessible from Thorndale Avenue.
An occasional older member of the Haneyville community would stop by to take a peek of the car through the fence. Most of them remembered those days when Tiffany would drive that car around town with Howie in the passenger seat.
Theories soon started flowing around town about the whereabouts of the two kids.
Sheriff Rock Riley walked out of the rear door of the station. He had a cup of coffee in hand while he walked over to the Buick Special.
“Do you think those kids are still in the lake?” asked Hal, an older resident who remembered when the two kids went missing.
Rock looked over at Hal who stared at the Buick from the other side of the fence. “Don’t know,” he said, then took a drink of coffee.
“I’d go get some of the divers from Knoxville if I was you,” Hal replied while he stared at the Buick and remembered those days when Tiffany drove around the neighborhood.
Rock looked at the Buick then back at Hal who seemed dead serious. “Yeah, I’ll have to go give them a call,” he said but looked like he knew they would not find any skeletons.
“I can imagine that the Carlson and Andersons would like some closure. Even if you found their skeletons at the bottom of the lake,” said Hal.
“Yeah, closure. Thanks, Hal,” Sheriff Riley said then he walked away and headed back to his office.
Hal walked away and headed back to his car, parked on Thorndale Avenue.
Rock went back inside his office and was the only one working today. He gave his thirty-three-year-old son Kent and twenty-four-year-old Deputy Andrew Barker the weekend off. Since there was only three in the department, they took turns covering the office during the weekend.
Rock sat down behind his desk. He hesitated for a few seconds then picked up his phone. He dialed in a number.
“Chief Adams,” Knoxville Police Chief Timmy Adams answered the call.
“Hey Chief Adams, it’s Sheriff Riley up here in Haneyville.”
“Hey, Rock. How did you like that conference in Orlando?”
“Oh, I found it to be very informative. But that’s not why I called.”
“I take it that you’re calling about that car found in your lake?”
“Yeah, I was wondering if you could send up some divers up here to search the bottom of the lake? We don’t have that talent up here,” he said.
“You think the remains of those two kids could be in the lake?”
“I don’t know, but I better check, or I’ll be asked why I didn’t by the parents of those missing kids,” Rock replied.
“I can have some up there later this afternoon.”
“Thanks, Chief Adams,” Rock said then he hung up his phone.
Rock took a cigar out of his shirt pocket and lit it up. He leaned back in his chair and puffed on his cigar and went into deep thoughts about the finding of that car.
Down in Knoxville, Chief Timmy Adams sat on the back porch of his home drinking his morning coffee. He was in his early sixties and had been the Chief of Police of Knoxville for the past ten years.
His wife Cindy, also in her sixties, came out of the house with a pot of coffee. “Who called?”
“Sheriff Riley up in Haneyville,” Chief Adams said.
“What did he want?” she asked while she freshened up his cup of coffee.
“He wants some divers to search the bottom of the lake for skeletal remains of Tiffany and Howie,” he replied while Cindy freshened up her cup of coffee.
“I forgot about those two a long time ago,” Cindy said while she sat down in her chair.
Chief Adams thought for a few seconds. “I heard that those two always were inseparable back then,” he said then he took a drink of his coffee.
Cindy thought about those two kids while some old dusty memories started popping in her head. “Yeah, remember when we went to the clearing at the lake after we graduated? And partied with some of the kids from Haneyville?”
Chief Adams thought about that for a few seconds. “Yeah, the joints were flowing just like the water in the lake,” he said then looked a little ashamed. “I got so stoned.”
“Now you’re the Chief of Police,” she said.
“I know. I quit smoking that shit after that night,” he said then took another drink of coffee.
“Do you think they died in the lake that night?” she asked.
Chief Adams thought about her question for a few seconds. “Naw, I still believe they ran off to Canada,” he replied and looked sincere in his belief.
“I wonder why they never contacted their parents?” she asked.
Chief Adams thought about her question for a few seconds. “I guess they wanted to put Haneyville out of their life or were ashamed for running away. I mean, Howie’s father was a Navy veteran of the second war,” he said then took another drink of his coffee while he thought about those two kids.
Chief Adams opened up his cell phone and punched in a phone number.
“Hey Rodney, round up your guys, I need you up on Haneyville later this afternoon. Go see Sheriff Riley. He’ll fill you in,” he said to the caller.
“Okay,” Rodney replied from the cell phone.
Chief Adams disconnected his call then stared out at his backyard in deep thought.
Back in Haneyville, Rock sat behind his desk in deep thought while he was on his fifth cup of coffee and his third cigar.
There was a knock on his opened door.
He looked and saw Ernie Carlson, the eighty-six-year-old father of Tiffany.
“Sheriff, are you sure that’s Tiffany’s car?” he asked, and his eyes welled up a bit.
“Part of the registration was readable. It was registered to you,” Rock replied and looked sincere.
Ernie stared at Rock for a few seconds while he hesitated to ask his next question. “Can I see the car?”
Rock looked at Ernie and did not like this part. “Ah, sure,” he said then got up from behind his desk.
Rock walked Ernie out of the rear of the Sheriff’s office.
He walked Ernie over to the rusty and muddy Buick.
Ernie walked around the car and looked it over.
He walked over to the driver’s door. He wiped away some mud then peeked inside the window.
Ernie had a flashback to Saturday, May 16th, 1970.
Forty-one-year-old Ernie drove that 1962 red Buick Special down Addison Avenue of his neighborhood.
He pulled into his driveway and parked behind his white four-door 1969 Buick Electra 225. He tooted the horn of the Buick Special and shut off the engine. He had a grin while he waited for the front door to open.
The front door of his house opened, and Tiffany stepped outside.
She looked a little baffled as to why this car was parked in their driveway.
She walked over to the car.
Kathy, now forty-three years old, stepped outside with a grin on her face. She knew what Ernie was up to when she saw the car.
Ernie got out of the car and stood by the door. “Happy graduation, darling,” he told her then gave her a warm smile.
It took a few seconds for it to dawn on Tiffany. Then it hit her. “This car is mine? All mine?” she called out with a huge smile.
Tiffany screamed out for joy and ran over to Ernie. She gave him a huge hug and a huge kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, daddy.”
“You’re welcomed, darling. I figured you need something to drive to work after you graduate,” he replied and loved seeing his daughter so happy.
“Have you started applying for jobs yet? I know they need waitresses down at the restaurant at Wendell’s restaurant near the west side of town,” said Kathy.
Tiffany looked at Ernie and Kathy. “Not yet,” she replied, but there was something that bugged her, and she did not want to tell her parents.
Ernie had a gut feeling something bugged his daughter but decided not to pry. “Take your car out for a spin,” he told her.
“I’ll have to drive over and show Howie,” she cried out in joy and ran over, got behind the wheel and started her up.
Ernie and Kathy watched while Tiffany backed up the Buick onto the street.
Tiffany tooted the horn at her parents while she drove off down the street.
Old Ernie snapped out of his memory. He continued to stare at the muddy Buick.
“I’m glad Kathy’s not around to see this. It would tear her apart,” Ernie said while his eyes welled up. Then he looked at Rock. “Do you think they’re at the bottom of the lake?”
“I’m having some divers from Knoxville come down and search the lake later today.”
“Well, I guess it’s time we get closure on them,” Ernie said then he walked away. “Time we get closure,” he repeated while he headed off to the rear door of the Sheriff’s office.
Rock followed behind Ernie, and something bothered him while they went inside the building.
After Ernie left through the front door, Rock took a drink of his coffee. It was cold, so he poured it into his trash can.
He walked over to his coffee pot and poured a fresh cup of coffee.
He walked back over and sat down behind his desk in his office.
He took the first drink of his hot coffee when there was another knock on his door.
Fuck! He thought to himself hated being interrupted again. He looked up at the doorway and saw George and Betsy Anderson standing in the door. They were both in their eighties and stared at Rock.
“Sheriff, we would like to see Tiffany’s car,” said George.
“Okay,” said Rock, then he stood up with his coffee cup in hand.
George and Betsy followed Rock out of the rear door of the building.
George and Betsy stood by the rear door of the building and stared at Tiffany’s rusty and muddy Buick.
Rock stood next to them, drinking his cup of coffee. He brought it with him, so this cup would not get cold.
George walked over to the Buick.
Betsy stood by the building as she decided not to get too close to that car. It gave her the creeps.
Rock walked away and headed over to George.
He watched while George walked around and looked at the Buick.
George walked over and stood by the driver’s door. He peeked inside. “I remember those days when Tiffany would drive over to the house and pick up Howie,” he said while his eyes started to tear up a bit.
Rock remained quiet and just drank his coffee.
“Are you going to have the lake searched?” George asked while he continued to look at the inside of the car.
“A dive team should be down here from Knoxville in the morning,” said Rock then he took another drink of coffee.
“Do you think they were murdered?” he asked Rock.
Rock looked at George and hated these types of questions. “I don’t know George. I still think they ran off to Canada. I don’t believe the dive team will find their remains,” he said and looked confident.
“How do you know that?”
Rock hesitated for a few seconds. “If they drowned, their remains would have still been in the car. I’m thinking they ditched the car for some strange reason, swam out of the lake and are living up in Canada.”
George looked at Rock, and his gut now told him that his son never made it up to Canada. But he decided to keep his mouth shut knowing it would be fruitless to pursue his theory with Rock. “I guess you’re right,” he said then looked at Betsy standing by the rear of the Sheriff’s office.
“Thanks, Sheriff,” George said then walked back over to Betsy.
“Let’s go, honey,” George said to Betsy, and then he held her hand.
Rock watched while George and Betsy went back into the police station. He turned around and glanced back at the Buick Special. He had a flashback…
In his flashback, it was night with a full moon.
He had a vision of that Buick Special floating away from the sandy beach of the clearing by Lake Haney. The Buick had the door windows down, and it slowly sank while it drifted with the current of the lake.
He snapped out of his daydream then went back inside his office.
Two hours had passed, and Rock was at the clearing by Lake Haney. He met with the four divers from Knoxville. He pointed at the general direction where Tiffany’s Buick was found.
He watched while the divers suited up and got inside their boat.