Unafraid

by Allie Harrison

  “Are those guns real?” he asked when he found his voice.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you ever have to live down here, Dad?”

  “No, Son.”

  “But I stayed down here for a while,” Gil said.

  “You did?” Charlie hadn’t had a clue there was anyone living in his house besides him, his mom, and his dad.

  “I stayed here for a few weeks about a year after my wife and son were killed. Your dad kept me down here where I couldn’t get my hands on a drink and self-destruct.”

  “I see.” Charlie really didn’t see, but he didn’t know what else to say. Then he looked up at the monitor above Gil’s head. “Is that the guy that shot you, Dad? The guy who’s been on the news?”

  “Yes.”

  His father stepped close to him.

  “He’s giving them information on all his crimes, right?”

  “Right.”

  “If he gives them enough will they let him free?” A lump jumped to his throat at the idea. He’d seen this guy’s office. Charlie knew how bad this guy was.

  “He’s not ever going to be free, Charlie,” Gil said.

  “But that’s why you’re watching him, because you’re afraid he might be. You’re afraid they’ll either let him free or he’ll escape.”

  His dad put an arm around Charlie’s shoulders. Until that moment when he felt his father’s warmth, he hadn’t realized how cold he was. Why did anyone ever reach a point of adulthood where he or she thought they were too old to feel the comfort and safety of a parent’s embrace? Because right then, he wanted nothing more than to fall into his father’s arms, to be that little boy who thought his dad could protect him.

  But if there was anything this month taught him, it was that the world was a very unsafe place. And it didn’t matter how big you were, you still got scared and you still needed your dad.

  “What’d you need to talk to me about?”

  “It’s okay. I see how busy you are.”

  His dad grinned. “No, tell me. We don’t need to listen to this anymore for a while, anyway. It’s all being recorded. They’ll spend the next hour or two uncovering bones, and I doubt Smith will give them the location of another body for a while because he’ll stretch it out as far as he can. So what’s up?”

  “There’s a girl who went missing today at school. Her name’s Sarah. She and Erica are really good friends and she eats lunch with us.”

  “Are you certain she’s missing? That she didn’t just skip class?” Gil turned in his chair to join in the conversation.

  “The cops were there and everything. Her car’s parked in the college parking lot. Apparently, she managed to make a nine-one-one call, but the cops won’t tell us anything. We’re all just really worried since they’ve found two dead women in two weeks…”

  “They did? I hadn’t heard about that.” His dad absently scratched at his shoulder. Charlie couldn’t help but notice.

  “I heard about it, but didn’t give it much attention. I was too busy,” Gil put in.

  “And I admit I’ve been a little out of the loop,” his dad added.

  “Yeah, well the cops are trying to keep it quiet, too, and that guy there,” Charlie pointed to Smith on the video screen, “is pretty much taking up all the news time. But I heard two dead women have been found. They’re calling him the Necktie Killer.”

  “Necktie Killer?”

  “Yeah, it must be his signature. He doesn’t strangle them with it, but he leaves a red silk tie tied around their necks.”

  Charlie didn’t like the way his dad looked at Gil. He’d seen that look before. It was what he thought of as Dad’s knowing look. Like when he was twelve and he and his best childhood buddy, Arthur, had swiped two of Arthur’s dad’s cigarettes. They had tried smoking them behind Arthur’s garage. When he got home, feeling rather sick to his stomach, his father had asked him what he’d been up to. He looked at Charlie just like that. There was a look in his eyes—his entire expression—that said I already know, but you have to tell me, anyway. You have to fess up.

  “What?” Charlie looked between his father and Gil, recognizing the unspoken communication. Then it came to him. Like a big wave rolling over his feet, strong enough to sweep them out from under him.

  “Oh, man, there was a red silk neck tie in that guy’s drawer of souvenirs. I remember Tex pulling one out and placing it in an evidence bag. You don’t think…”

  “We know Smith was in custody, handcuffed to a hospital bed for a week before that,” Gil said.

  “Yes, I know,” his father replied. “But this is a pretty big coincidence, don’t you think?”

  It was Gil’s turn to scratch his own shoulder, almost in the same way Charlie’s father had moments ago. “I don’t believe in coincidence. Not when it comes to this psycho, not when it comes to considering all the crimes I think he committed.” He nodded toward the screen where the guy who’d shot his father still sat in the grass and authorities were digging at some place where there were piles of what looked like rock. The video was grainy. “Either he knows the killer, or he has a piece of evidence to use to hold over someone’s head. He’s good at that.”

  Charlie watched them, seeing what made them a team that worked. They maneuvered liked a well-oiled machine, communicating and listening to one another like most people only dreamed of doing.

  His father finally looked at Charlie. “I’ll see what I can find out. No promises.”

  “Will you talk to the cops? I mean, I just thought the cops have to talk you, right, since you, you know, work for the government?” Charlie wasn’t even certain what to ask. He had no idea what his father could do.

  “That’s only if I told them I work for the government,” his father reminded him.

  “Oh, yeah,” Charlie felt the air let out of him like a deflating tire.

  “Besides,” Gil added, “the cops don’t readily like us.”

  “They don’t?”

  “No.”

  “Gil, don’t tell him that,” his father’s response sounded like a mixture of frustration and amusement.

  “Why shouldn’t I?” Gil turned his attention back to Charlie. “The truth is they don’t like us because we don’t play by the rules all the time. We try to, but sometimes we don’t.”

  “Like when you didn’t call an ambulance or the police for my dad?”

  “Right,” Gil agreed. “The police have to play by the rules all the time. And still, someone is always watching them, always hoping to catch them in a mistake and have it on video for the news or the upcoming lawsuit.”

  Charlie still felt as if someone pulled the wind from his sails. “I can see where that could be bad. I just thought maybe you could find something out. Erica’s really scared for her friend, Sarah. Everyone’s been told to be on the alert and not walk in the parking lot alone. And I don’t have to tell you I hate this helpless feeling. It’s almost just like—” He couldn’t go on.

  His father went on for him. “Like a few weeks ago when you saw me bleeding on the floor.”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “How about if I just promise to see what I can find out. Might be nothing, though. And maybe Sarah’s disappearance has nothing to do with anything regarding neck ties.”

  “That’ll work. Thanks, Dad.”

  Charlie headed back to the stairs, feeling torn between wanting to stay and wanting to escape. He wanted to explore all the corners to see what other secrets his father held. He wanted to see just how far he could go once he placed his fingertips on the keyboard of one of the computers. At the same time, he didn’t want to know. He didn’t know his dad led such a dangerous life. And now it was exposed. It might seem like an adventure, but it was also damned scary.

  “Charlie?” John stopped him.

  “Yeah?” He met his father’s gaze.

  “Why don’t you sit down here and see what you can find out?” John nodded to one of four empty rolling desk chairs. “If you don’t
get anywhere, I’ll see what other avenues we can take.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. You obviously know how to use one of these better than I do. While you’re at it, you can keep an eye on our monkey there and tell me if you see him do anything he shouldn’t be doing.”

  “Wow…” He let out without thinking. This was better than using Ellie Westfall’s computer. “Thanks, Dad.” He raced back down the few steps, feeling like he was stepping onto the wildest roller coaster ever built. Excited and terrified at the same time, knowing there were going to be breathtaking hills and curves, but eager to experience them all the same.

  His father rested a hand on his shoulder. “Try to stay honest. And don’t leave any bread crumbs.”

  Charlie grinned. “I’ll try not to break too many of the rules.”

  Gil and his dad got up and headed up the stairs. As they neared the top of the hidden staircase, he heard Gil’s voice. “You know, with Charlie’s computer expertise, he could be down there cracking into police reports and finding out anything he wanted.”

  “Hopefully he can find answers without becoming a criminal,” his father replied.

  And his father must have done a good job of teaching him honesty, too, because he hadn’t even considered the idea. And the thought now landed heavy in his gut. But he was determined to see what he could find. For Erica. For now, he’d trust in staying on the right path and see where it would take him.

  “I know. It just seems like the world’s against us, doesn’t it?”

  “It certainly does.”

  Then they were out of the room that had been forbidden to Charlie his entire life and their words grew muffled.

  Gil’s voice still came to him as Charlie sat down and put his fingers on the keyboard. “I’ll check in later. You know I ordered a paddleboat for Ellie and Raylan a couple weeks ago. We’ve been spending evenings while the weather stays nice, paddling around the lake.”

  Charlie heard their footfalls on the floor above him. Oh, to be a child again like Raylan, enjoying simple things like coloring and riding in a paddleboat. But he told himself it was easier and obviously safer to be down here where he was, than the upstairs kitchen where a bullet could come slamming through the window. Then he started typing, saw information pop up on the screen in front of him, and the rest of the world slipped away. It took the worry with it.

  In fact he was so lost in it, he didn’t hear John come back down the stairs with him a short time later. He was startled when his father touched his shoulder again.

  “Sorry,” John muttered. He placed an apple in front of Charlie.

  Charlie stopped typing and absently picked it up and took a bite, relishing in the juice he licked off his lips.

  “How have you done this, Dad?”

  “Done what?”

  “Lived this life? I have to admit my heart feels like it might jump out of my chest when I see you standing in the kitchen anywhere near that window.”

  His father gave him an easy smile. “If there is one thing this job has given me, it’s courage. I wish I could give it to you. Yes, there are things and people who will try and kill you, but you can’t let the fear stop you from living. Or they have already succeeded. Don’t be afraid, Charlie. Don’t ever be afraid.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  “I suppose it does sound easy, but I know none of this has been easy for you. Let’s just start with one day at a time, one thing at a time. Do you think you’re forever going to be afraid of looking out that window?”

  “No, I don’t think so. It’s getting easier.” Charlie took another bite of his apple.

  “Because we can sell the house.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. How would you explain this hidden room?”

  “We could call it the tornado shelter,” his dad suggested.

  Charlie chuckled. “It could be that.” He paused. “Did mom know about all this?”

  “Yes, but not because I told her. Always keep in mind, women are smart. You’d do best not to try and pull something over on them. They’ll figure it out every time.”

  “Don’t sell the house. I keep telling myself you did this job long before I knew about it.” The last thing Charlie wanted was to give up the house where he’d grown up, the house where his mom cooked and tucked him in bed.

  “Yes, I did. I’ve spent a lot of years trying to make the world a safer place for you, for your generation.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “You’re welcome. If I can help you with any of it, just tell me how.”

  In his hand, his half-eaten apple was turning brown. “It’s nice that you trust me with it. At the same time, I thought the feeling of normalcy with school helped until today, until Sarah. Then I was just reminded that there are more guys like that guy.” He pointed to the video screen where Bob Smith sat. If not for the jumpsuit and shackles he wore, he looked as if he was enjoying a picnic. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over all the stuff in his office. He was so methodical. It was unbelievable.”

  “Yes, many of them are methodical and organized. It’s how they get away with it like they do. What do you want for lunch?”

  Charlie recognized what his father was attempting—another normal action, and he was grateful. “I don’t know. What have we got?”

  His dad looked at him and grinned. “We’ve got macaroni and cheese. You used to really like that. I remember when you were about six or seven, you wanted it every day.”

  Leave it to his dad to know what he needed. “Macaroni sounds great.”

  But then his father threw him for the absolute loop. “I was hoping you could give me some tips.”

  “Tips about what?” Charlie asked.

  “I have a date tonight and I’m a nervous wreck. I’m not quite sure how I should act.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  He watched the police from a distance. He loved to watch the police. They reminded him of scampering ants, all trying to look important, all thinking they were important, trying to do a job and not really looking successful. But right then, unlike ants, when it came to him, when it came to solving murder and finding another missing girl, the cops didn’t know what direction to take. He had Sarah Cummings tucked away where they wouldn’t find her. As soon as he fed her and gave her enough to drink, the real fun would begin. He always loved this moment of anticipation. It was like the day before Christmas.

  Even if the cops noticed him, questioned him, suspected him, or held him on some trumped-up charge, they’d never find her. She now belonged to him.

  And, although he wasn’t with her, he knew Sarah was probably waking up. She was probably whining or crying. They all did that first, as soon as they recognized they were trapped and escape was impossible. Next, they would exhaust themselves with anger and frustration trying to break free. As soon as they knew he was close and discovered they were not alone, they begged and pleaded and promised. When they saw that wouldn’t work, they moved back to anger and frustration.

  It was a very predictable cycle. One he loved to witness.

  He was never really certain when he should begin his games with them, during the anger phase or the fear phase.

  Not that it mattered. The entire thing was something he enjoyed watching almost as much as what he watched now. The cute little police detective was questioning students in the college cafeteria. He didn’t understand why she would even want to waste her time here. If any of them had seen anything—which he knew they hadn’t—she couldn’t believe them. They were college students. Too busy looking at their phones to look up and notice what was going on around them.

  Sarah was, by far, smarter and quicker than a lot of those in the cafeteria around him. Hell, she’d managed to dial 9-1-1 before he’d grabbed her. Then, by luck, she’d dropped her phone and sent it flying when it hit her foot, so he’d been forced to leave that piece of evidence. So that cute little detective who wore her gold hair in a pony tail knew there’d been an abd
uction. Years ago, he would have been worried that the knowledge cut his time with his newest lady friend. But now, he was well seasoned.

  And as he watched Detective Emily Benton, he saw…

  His next lady friend. He couldn’t help but wonder, given her training, how well she would play his games.

  Slowly, he licked his lips, feeling the anticipation build.

  Maybe he wouldn’t even wait until the games had ended with his present lady. Maybe he’d play two for the price of one.

  Chapter Fifteen

  John’s phone buzzed just as he and Charlie finished off the last of the macaroni and cheese. He was surprised to see Dell’s cell number pop up. He answered with, “What’s happening? You all right?” After all, Dell had suffered a major stab wound not long ago.

  “I’m fine, and it looks like they got Smith all settled back in his cell. But Virgil suffered a mean right cross from one of the suits guarding Smith when we placed the bugs and the GPS. He’s not complaining, but I can tell he’s not getting any better.”

  “I’ll take care of it, thanks for letting me know. Get some rest. I’ll have Louis or Al monitor from here. We’ll plan our next move when we see what happens with Smith. Keep in touch.” He hung up, then quickly called Louis and gave the order for either him or Al to split shifts to monitor. He wanted to know where Smith was all the time, and he wanted to know what Brubaker planned. It was a strategic game of chess waiting for someone else to make the next move before he could plan his. He looked at Charlie. “What’d you find out about the Necktie Killer?”

  “The homicide detective on the case is Emily Benton. I read a few of her reports. There aren’t many helpful clues by the sound of it.”

  John speed-dialed Virgil.

  “Yeah, Boss?” was Virgil’s greeting.

  John didn’t beat around the bush and knew that Virgil wouldn’t expect him to, either. “I hear you took one to the jaw.”

  “It was nothing, Boss. Don’t take me off the job.”

  “I’m just re-assigning you for a day or two.”

  “Oh, come on. I want to be close enough to Shackleford to give him some payback.”