I enjoy watching him struggle to come up with an honest compliment while also acknowledging his failings.
“Listen, we work well together. You make up for my shortcomings. We make a good team.” He sees me smiling. “Okay, just cut it out.”
I lean back in my chair, taking it in. I remember Jodi’s warning and turn to Charlie. “He probably drowned, right?”
“Yup.”
“And we’re just looking for the body.”
“Yes.”
“But if he didn’t, if this becomes something bigger—”
“It won’t.”
“But if it does, we stop immediately, okay?”
“Deal.”
I hope he keeps that promise if the time comes.
chapter 20
On Sunday night, Cousin Rachel goes for her evening run. Main Street Estoria is quieter than a graveyard and only three cars pass her during her workout. She does a lap around the main drag, probably the only person ever to do it in running shoes, before pressing on toward the hill.
It’s been three days since she got here and things are moving slowly. After burying the body, she sent half her team, Amos and Gil, home and booked Daniel, Jacob, and herself into two rooms at the motel. They are on cleanup duty now, until all the loose threads are tied up or time runs out and they can’t do any more.
This guy Terry had made a real mess of his life before getting killed. His girlfriend had kicked him out and his boss had fired him. He had no home to his name and it wasn’t until his boat washed up yesterday by the bridge that anyone noticed he’d been missing. It’s sad when even the drug dealers you supply don’t care enough to notice that you’re no longer around.
Unfortunately, this ambiguity made her job tough—not knowing about the people you work with is great when someone gets caught, but it creates real problems when you need to clean up their mess. She still doesn’t know where or who he made his deliveries to, so it was going to require a bit more time and work.
Thankfully no one had found his body yet and she hadn’t heard about anything unusual like a big stack of cash being found after it washed up on shore, so they still had time.
She reaches the top of the hill when her phone rings. It’s her husband. She slows to a walk and answers it.
“Hi, there.”
“You still working?”
Although she didn’t share as much as she once had, they had developed a code for the trickier parts of her career. “Yeah, the client is hesitating.”
“Jonathan’s swim team competes next Thursday. Will you be home?”
Dammit! She hates missing her son’s matches. It was his second year on the team and he’d really developed. “I hope to wrap things up here by then.”
“He wants you to promise.”
She hates when her son puts her on the spot. “I’ll do my best.”
“All right, I’ll let him know.” She knows her husband understands that it might be a hard promise to keep. “You’re making sure to eat your veggies?” he asks, his way of checking that she was staying safe and watching her ass.
“Yup, as always.”
“Okay, miss you. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
She hangs up and tucks the phone back inside her pocket. Regaining the speed of her run, she passes the turn toward the golf course and continues toward the school.
The night before, she’d left her team behind and visited the girlfriend’s house on her own. The boys were good at grunt work, but they’re like a pair of rampaging rhinos when it comes to things that need to be handled carefully. When she got there, no one was around. Whatever relationship the woman had with Terry, she wasn’t so busted up over his disappearance that she was spending her nights crying at home. Cousin Rachel saw that the woman hadn’t let him get too close—there wasn’t a trace of his stuff anywhere inside the place, including anything that might tie Terry to Cousin Rachel. She didn’t turn the house upside down, but she felt confident this guy hadn’t left any evidence lying around. Which was good.
Earlier that afternoon, she had sent Daniel and Jacob to follow up on a lead at a local pizza place, but they didn’t find the guy—someone named Little Joe—they were looking for. As she races along the curve past a nursing home and a hospital, she regrets not going to the restaurant herself; she can be more persuasive than either Daniel or Jacob.
She has a lot to do over the next few days—more people to visit, more messes to clean up before they lead back to her bosses. Of course, if anyone tries to block her progress, she has no qualms about removing them—her job is about solving problems—even if it means spilling blood.
And now, she has even more incentive. She’s made a promise to her son and she intends to keep it.
chapter 21
The morning light of Monday wakes me. I’m not sure what time it is, but it feels early. The cabin is quiet and I haul myself out of the lower bunk, careful not to wake Charlie. I’m not sure if he’s a light sleeper, but he was absolutely bagged when he went to bed last night.
I’m not much better, and though I’m making my way to the bathroom, I feel absolutely zonked. I tossed and turned last night, thinking about our conversation.
I agreed to see if we could find this Terry guy partially out a sense of duty to my friend and partially because I believed what he said, that we could make a difference. I mean, I’m sure Charlie will do whatever he wants, and I know I don’t have to do this, but I’m becoming aware of another feeling, one that I didn’t expect or even want—excitement!
When I go downstairs, my eye is caught by a note from Mom on the kitchen counter: Gone to the resort for breakfast with Dad and Heather. Then the beach. Taking Ollie with us. Be back at lunch. Enjoy your morning.
It’s 7:30. A little early but if I get ready quickly, I can take advantage of the quiet and enjoy my book in the hammock before Charlie gets up.
There’s still a little coffee in the pot so I grab a mug. I take a sip, staring out the window at the still, blue lake through the lush forest. It’s going to be a beautiful day. That’s when I notice the distinctive taste of my cup of java. This isn’t Dad’s heavy-duty brew and can only be—
Charlie walks by the window, dressed like he’s been up for hours. What the hell?
I open the door. “Charlie!” I whisper.
He’s distracted and doesn’t hear me.
I raise my voice, nearly yelling, “Charlie!”
He stops dead on the stairs and turns his head. “Hey, good morning.”
He’s quite the sight in baggy jeans, superhero tee-shirt, sneakers, and his trademark shaggy hair.
He drops whatever mission he’s on and trots back up to me. He reminds me of Ollie, tail wagging, happy to see me. I wonder if I should offer Charlie a treat?
“What’s for breakfast, Sleeping Beauty?” he asks.
He’s always hungry—maybe he really is a dog. “I don’t know. Let’s find something.”
We go back inside.
“What time did you wake up?”
He ponders. “Five.”
“In the morning?”
“Obviously.”
I snort with disbelief. “And Mom and Dad?”
“Maybe an hour later. Your dad got up when he smelled my coffee. And your mom shortly afterwards. Oh, there’s a note from them—”
“I got it.”
“Cool.” Again, he manoeuvres around the kitchen as if he’s been here a dozen times before, making a fresh pot of coffee and pulling out stuff for breakfast. We work together and cook up a huge stack of pancakes in no time.
“You think that’s enough?” I say sarcastically.
“Hopefully, but if not, we can always find some leftovers.”
I think he’s serious.
We dig in.
Charlie makes sure t
o swallow before saying, “Do you know the old lady down the road—Diane, I think? She likes the reefer.”
“Sorry, what?”
He pours more syrup on his pancakes. “Diane smokes pot. She’s got to be what, ninety?”
“She’s not ninety.”
“So you know her?”
“Of course. I think she’s been out here even longer than us.”
Charlie scarfs down his first pancake and flops another onto his plate. If I don’t start soon, he might eat mine too. Quickly, I spear a couple of mouthfuls.
“Then you knew she smokes pot?
I shake my head. “How do you know?”
“She told me.”
I almost cough up a pancake.
“Whoa, careful.” He pounds me on the back
“Thanks.” I take a gulp of juice. “She told you?”
“Yeah. I was walking by and she smiled and said ‘Hello,’ ” Charlie says, adding an English accent even though I know Diane doesn’t have one, “and I say ‘Hi’ back, the way people in small towns are supposed to. Then we start talking and she assumes I might have some stuff because well…” He gestures at his overall appearance, then shrugs and keeps eating.
“She asked that straight up?”
“Yeah, but I told her I didn’t have any and she was disappointed because she had run out and it was going to be awhile before she’d be able to buy some.”
“Thank God.”
“Dude, she has arthritis and it helps her feel better and sleep better and it makes her happy. She seems really nice.”
“How about that.” I lean back in my chair, thinking about this new knowledge. “Diane is a pothead.”
“No. She’s got arthritis and is self-medicating, Shepherd. It’s different.”
“Okay, then.”
Our stack of pancakes is shrinking.
Charlie continues, “You know what else?”
“The old man down the street makes meth?”
“No. Really?” He catches me watching him but seems to take the notion seriously, “that hadn’t occurred to me, but I’ll check him out later.”
I wonder if he actually will.
“Anyhoo,” Charlie goes on, “the people in the red log cabin down the street? They vacated the premises but left a window open on their second floor.”
“You didn’t go inside?”
“Well, yeah, because it’s the neighbourly thing to do.”
“Holy crap, Charlie!”
“Relax. I just closed it for them and left.”
“And that’s it?”
He doesn’t answer immediately, then he laughs, “Of course, Shepherd. What kind of delinquent do you take me for?”
“Exactly…”
“Also the house just before the turn? That couple’s going to break up. They were screaming at each other and it’s way too early in the morning for that shit.”
I take a sip of coffee. “Did you case this whole lake?”
“It’s called gathering intel and it’s good to be prepared.”
“For what? We’re in the middle of nowhere?”
“Do I need to remind you about our man, Terry?” He unfolds the missing poster the cop gave him and lays it out between us.
“Don’t remind me. What did you find out?”
“Not much. We need to get on the ground and do some serious recon.”
“Okay, how?”
“It’s time for you to take me to town.”
chapter 22
Charlie waits on the deck while I get dressed.
Mom and Dad come through the door as I’m lacing my shoes and she immediately wants to know where we’re off to.
“I was thinking of taking Charlie into town, showing him around?”
“Really? That’s thirty minutes away and a lot of gas.”
I’m not surprised—trouble tends to follow us—so I scramble for a new excuse. “He was hoping for some Wi-Fi and a coffee.”
“We have coffee. He brought some.”
Crap. Darn you, Charlie, for being generous. “He said that’s for Dad, not for him.”
“I think you guys can stay home. Maybe take the canoe out—”
Charlie enters with the tank from the barbecue in his hand. “I’ve got the propane, Shepherd.” He stops as if Mom and Dad’s presence surprises him.
“Oh, sorry, Mr. and Mrs. S. I should know better than to bring something like this into the cabin.” He quickly ducks out and sets it on the deck, then steps back inside. “I was thinking about making supper for you all tonight as a way to say thanks, but then I saw the tank was nearly empty, so I thought we could go to town, pick up groceries, and get some propane.”
Charlie’s generosity startles Mom and I can already see her defenses melting.
“Unless that’s a problem,” he says. “I don’t want to cause any trouble or anything.”
“No…” she hesitates, wisely sensing there’s maybe more to this than she knows, “but maybe—”
“You know,” Dad interjects, “if Charlie’s cooking is as good as his coffee, I’m all in.”
Mom sighs, any further argument now cut short. “Fine,” she says, handing me the keys from the cupboard, “but no speeding—you’re not familiar with driving on gravel roads. And back by five.”
“Deal.”
As we leave, Charlie attempts assurance, “Don’t worry, Mr. and Mrs. S. I’ll keep him on the straight and narrow.”
I’m positive I hear them both crack up as the door shuts behind us.
chapter 23
Charlie puts the tank in the trunk, tosses his backpack in the front by his feet, and in minutes, we’re heading to town. Right away, he’s adjusting his seat, moving it forward, pushing it back, flipping the visor, positioning the air vents, and rolling down his window.
I’ve got to know. “So, how much propane did you let out of that tank?”
“Shepherd, I’m shocked you’d think I’d pull such a stunt!” He leans over and turns on the radio. A staticky country song from the ’70s warbles through the speakers. “What in the hell is that?”
“It’s called am radio.”
“Oh, I’ve heard about this. Always thought it was a myth.” He spins the dial, trying to find another station. Another country song pops up followed by a farm report on wheat futures, whatever that is.
“Sorry, man,” I say. There’s only a couple of stations and the clearest one plays religious country music.
Charlie goes to turn on the cd player. “Here’s hoping your dad doesn’t let me down.”
Opera blares.
“Ack!” he cries, ejecting the cd to read the label aloud. “ ‘The Flower Duet’ by Leo Delibes from Lakme? It sounds like something from an airline commercial.”
“I’m sure that’s Mom’s. The things you do for love.”
He rifles through the glove box, finding a few cds. “Jack Johnson, Etta James… nice.”
“You like Etta James? Isn’t she just for old people?”
I get the glance, of course, but he decides not to comment in favour of assessing the next album. “Cool and the Gang? What the—?” He tosses the cd out the window.
“What are you doing?” I yell, slowing down.
“He won’t miss it,” he says, grinning.
In the rearview mirror, a swirl of dust unravels behind us. Emboldened by Charlie’s presence, I decide I’ve got better things to do than search for an old cd. I step on the gas.
“Now, here we go.” Charlie smiles. “Greatest Hits, CCR.”
I’m not sure if I’m into it, but it’s better than the garbage on the radio.
He slides it in. “Bad Moon Rising” starts up and so does Charlie.
It’s not my style of music, but because of Dad I’ve been listening to it al
l my life and know every word. It’s fun, bouncy, and I sing along about earthquakes and lightnin’ too.
Charlie shows his approval and adds air drums. “Shepherd, you’re full of surprises.”
“It’s my parents’ fault.”
“Nope,” he disagrees, “it’s to your parents’ credit. Thank them.”
Embracing the moment, I blast down the road and onto the main highway, cracking into the chorus with Charlie by my side.
chapter 24
By the time we pull onto Main Street, “Down on the Corner” is blasting and we’re in a great mood. The sun is out and it’s an excellent summer day.
“I’ll take you to a coffee shop where you can Wi-Fi your brains out. Sound good?”
“Perfect!”
I pull up to Cup of Joan’s and the place is filled. It’s 10:30 when we get there, so all the townspeople have settled into coffee row to gossip about the day’s events.
Inside and the smell of fresh baking hits us. Charlie grabs a seat in a window booth, dumping his backpack beside him, pulls out his phone and starts tapping away. I slide in across from him.
He nods at the woman behind the counter. “That Joan?”
“That’s Laurie. Her mom was Joan.”
“She took it over?”
“Her mom passed away three years ago.”
He nods. “Sucks.” He watches Laurie for a moment. “She’s cute.”
“Back when I was younger, I’d make my parents let me order dessert just to get her over to my table.”
“Aww, Shepherd, was she your crushie-crush?”
I laugh. “Yeah, you could say that.”
He glances back at her. “What is she? Thirty?”
“What is with you and your bad judgment of people’s ages?” I do some rapid math. “She’s gotta be twenty-four.”
He winks. “Nice. Into the older women!”
I glare at him as Laurie comes over with a pot of coffee.
“Hi, Tony. Long time, no see.” She turns over my cup and fills it.
“Hey,” I say. I can’t help but notice how pretty she is.
“Who’s your friend?” she asks.
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