Pretty Little Killers (51 page)

“They're in the bottom drawer,” she told him. “On the right.” She clearly wasn't going in.

“Oh, sure,” Daniel said, “make me go in and get my hands dirty.”

“Don't be dumb. Someone's gotta stand guard.”

Just like Shelia said, it only took a few seconds, and they were at lunch in a matter of minutes. Daniel felt guilty afterward. The worst part was, Daniel wasn't sure why he did it because he'd never done it before.

Daniel tried not to waste time dwelling on Shelia or the trouble, but it was really hard; he just wanted his Sky back.

forty-two

Skylar Comes Home

Mary Neese braved the
summer heat and humidity to prove there is something stronger than the elements: a mother's love.

With the temperature hovering above 90 degrees, Mary and Dave led a solemn procession from Clay-Battelle High School to the place where their daughter drew her last breath. There, on June 23, family and friends dedicated a bench to Skylar along a narrow country road near Brave, Pennsylvania, at the spot where Skylar's body had lain for six months. The handmade bench read: “In Loving Memory, Skylar A. Neese, 1996–2012.” The small crowd of about forty people who came to pay their respects tried to let their laughter outweigh their tears, as they hugged each other.

A pall was cast over the ceremony by Coroner Rohanna's steadfast refusal to let the Neeses spend ten minutes alone with Skylar's remains. Mary and Dave still did not have Skylar back yet, and the Greene County coroner put the blame on the FBI.

“We just received some of the remains back from the FBI within the last couple of days,” Rohanna said. “I have not had the remains. The FBI has had them. But we're still investigating because we need to do the things we need to do.”

A commemoration at what has come to be known as “Skylar's Site,” an informal memorial that formed at the place where she was murdered.
Photo courtesy Daleen Berry.

Nor had the federal agency released an official cause of death, according to Rohanna. In addition, since Skylar's body had been discovered in Greene County, he was the only person who could make that call—which meant that his office was in charge of Skylar's remains. Rohanna insisted they were staying right where they were, and staunchly refused to let the Neeses into the building to see what was left of their only child.
³³

At the informal gathering, Dave announced his plans to picket the coroner's office in two days' time. He and Mary were tired of being victimized by what looked more like a pissing contest than anything real. The way Dave saw it, Rohanna was being a jerk just because he could. The grieving father told members of the media that he didn't care if he was arrested; he and Mary just wanted to say goodbye to the daughter who had left them nearly one year before.

By Monday the media had taken up the Neeses' cause and a second crowd had gathered for Skylar, this time at the couple's Star City apartment. Everyone was preparing to load signs saying “Free Skylar” into their vehicles and drive thirty minutes to the coroner's office in Waynesburg, Pennsylvania, when Dave's cell phone rang. The caller on the other end had good news: Rohanna was conceding defeat. All of Skylar's remains would be back in West Virginia within a few days. Mary and Dave felt lighter than they had in months.

Skylar was coming home.

On July 3, Mary, Dave, and Skylar's favorite aunt, Carol, drove a mile up the road to the Morgantown State Police detachment to tell her goodbye. The date of the private ceremony had been fiercely guarded to prevent the media from finding out, and all three of them had nervously awaited that day ever since learning what it would hold.

Mother, father, and aunt solemnly walked into the brick building, where Gaskins and Berry met them. Gaskins explained again, just as he had earlier, that Skylar's remains were in a sealed bag they weren't allowed to open. As gently as possible, he reminded them they wouldn't want to remember Skylar by her remains, but as the happy, beautiful daughter they had last seen the night she came home from work.

He explained they could sit inside the room with her as long as they needed. To protect the chain of custody, what was left of Skylar had been placed in an interview room with a two-way mirror. It was, he said, the best they could do.

Mary, Dave, and Carol entered the room and sat down on the three chairs facing the table that held Skylar. They told her how much they loved her, how much they missed her, and how happy they were she was finally home. They told her about all her friends—from school, from around the state, even some from around the globe whom she had never met—and how everyone was thinking about her. They talked to her about happier times, about how they wished they could hold her, and how they were going to make sure she got justice. They
told her about the law named for her, and how they hoped it would help other teens. They sobbed and sobbed, not unlike the day Mary and Carol had wept together months earlier in the Neeses' Star City apartment.

Dave stood up then, towering over the bag with all that was left of Skylar inside. He leaned over the bag and kissed the end of it.

“Dave,” Carol said, “you just kissed her feet.”

In a year filled with weeks of darkness, it was a much-needed moment of levity.

“Well, hell, I can't tell,” Dave said, blustering, as he walked down to the other end and kissed it, too.

Mary and Carol laughed and so did Dave, before they cried some more.

After being allowed to grieve privately at the detachment, Skylar's closest family members left feeling better—closer to closure than they had been before they arrived that warm July day. Finally, they could put her body to rest. Mary and Dave chose to have Skylar cremated, and her remains are held in an urn that doubles as a wall photo of Skylar's last school picture.

Her parents were finally able to give Skylar the service she deserved. The memorial was planned for July 20, not long after the first anniversary of Skylar's disappearance. Mary wore a ribbed purple blouse with black dress slacks for the day she would tell Skylar goodbye for good. Dave didn't own a single purple garment, so he wore the next best thing: a navy blue shirt. He knew Skylar would have approved.

Over two days, more than 1,000 people streamed through the Kingdom Evangelical Methodist Church sanctuary to pay their respects or attend the service. Many of them had never met the sunny, blue-eyed teen whose pictures played continuously on a large
screen at the front of the room. They wore purple anyway, showing they had been touched deeply by Skylar's short life and tragic death.

Several of the people who had helped investigate and who were going to prosecute the case came, too, as did dozens of UHS students and faculty. People who were strangers before Skylar's disappearance also showed up, many of them just to meet and comfort Mary and Dave. More than one person drove several hours and crossed state lines so they could give the couple a hug, or offer them hope for happier days.

Teenagers lined up in rows to watch the poignant pictures of Skylar come and go. With their eyes glued to the screen, tears streaming down their faces, they all looked like silent statues. Many of them wore a range of Skylar purples; some were dressed in traditional black. None of them could leave the building without tearing up over the friend they had lost too soon.

During the memorial service, Pastor Kevin Cain shared Skylar stories he'd gleaned from friends and family. He told how Skylar was a strong source of support to other youths by being their counselor, their confidante. He told funny stories from her childhood and teen years that made those in attendance chuckle or even cry.

Mary and Dave were worried about how they would get through such a public display, but in the end, they held onto each other and wept openly, and with the minister's words, they allowed the long year of grief to gently wash over them. The service couldn't remove all of the pain and anguish they felt, but at least it helped to make it more bearable.

As he concluded, Cain turned the service over to Skylar's parents. Dave had been worried Mary wouldn't hold up well, but as they stood together she seemed, if anything, to look stronger. Not one to speak to large crowds, Mary Neese was the epitome of grace and dignity.

“I just want to say thanks to each and every one of you for all of the support you've given us this past year,” Mary said. “We truly wouldn't have made it without you and words just can't tell you guys how much we love all of you. Thank you so much.”

It was Dave's turn next. His voice was gravelly, his words unusually brief when he spoke. After repeating Mary's expression of thanks, Dave asked everyone to look at the large, framed photo of Skylar that also held her ashes. All eyes turned toward the front of the room.

July 20 memorial service for Skylar at the Kingdom Evangelical Methodist Church. Photo courtesy Daleen Berry.

“No one can ever hurt you again, baby,” he said.