“Laurie, this is Charlie.”
Charlie stops whatever he’s doing on his phone. “Thanks for the gift of your internet.”
It’s probably the best he can manage as far as social graces go.
She flashes a smile and her dimples show. “You’re welcome. Being out here without a signal can be a scary thing.”
He takes a sip of coffee. “Wow, now that has some bite.”
“If it’s muddy hot water you want, we have one of those down the street—”
“Oh, no. Don’t get me wrong. I approve wholeheartedly.”
“Well, I believe you should start with good beans and proper brewing if you’re going to open a coffee shop.”
Charlie raises his cup in respect.
Laurie’s intrigued. “Tony, where did you dig up this connoisseur of good coffee? Same school?”
Charlie and I exchange a glance. I recall the day I first saw him digging in the dirt in front of Sheri’s school. My stomach tightens automatically.
Charlie plunges in. “I guess you could say we met at school. But we also work together sometimes.”
I exhale; none of that is a lie. I also can’t help but notice how willing he is to answer her.
Laurie smiles at me. “Awesome. Anything else I can get you besides the coffee?”
“Yes, two of your best doughnuts, please.”
“Strawberry-orange and apple cinnamon?”
I smile. “You know me well.”
Charlie is back on his phone, head down, focused. “And two for me.”
I scowl. “Pay attention. I just ordered.”
“Yeah, for yourself, right?” He looks up and I know he’s not kidding.
I gaze at Laurie, sighing. “We’ll have three doughnuts. Give him the first two and then one for me. Your choice on the last one.”
“Sounds good.” She smiles, touching me on the shoulder, and walks away.
I study him. “I’m impressed. All her questions didn’t bother you?”
“I like people who ask questions—it illustrates who they are, what they care about, and what they want to know. But it takes the right kind of person for me to care enough to answer.”
“And she’s the right type?”
He nods. “Yeah. There’s something honest about her.”
It’s fascinating how he thinks about people, as if we’re all one big, never-ending collection of data that he uses to understand humanity.
Charlie smirks but doesn’t bother to meet my eye when he adds, “Besides, she wants you.”
I can’t say I haven’t noticed that Laurie’s shown more interest in me lately, but I let it go.
“What wrong, Shepherd? Why not get her number?”
I don’t answer and Charlie puts his phone down for the first time since we got here. “All right, story time—”
“About what?”
“Just shut up and listen, Shepherd. One time, maybe two years ago, I was at lunch and there were these three girls, a grade or two older than me. They were a part of the student council, athletics—you know, exemplars of the student body.”
I wonder where he’s going, if he’s trying to take a dig at me, but I let him continue.
“There were also these other kids that came to our school—ones with messed-up lives, most of which they couldn’t control. And these three girls start talking about them—not about how screwed up they are, but how they’re raunchy and gross, all of which was bullshit.”
His phone bings, but he ignores it.
“So I sat there and just listened to it all go down. Not because I wasn’t pissed off—I was—but because I thought it wasn’t my problem. Then Sheri—your Sheri—walks over, because, you know, these girls are her friends and I think she’s going to hang out with them, but instead she totally lays into them, defending these poor kids whose troubles are bigger than themselves. And I thought to myself, well there goes a Class A human being.”
He picks up his phone again but keeps talking. “Sheri was pretty cool, Shepherd. I get that. But she wouldn’t want you to stop living for her. In fact, I’m hoping she’d be pissed off if you did.” He nods toward Laurie, who’s on her way back to our table with a plate of doughnuts. “It doesn’t have to happen now, but at some point you need to fully come back into this world.”
When Laurie arrives, Charlie glances at me and loudly announces, “I’m going to take a whizz, so don’t touch my doughnuts.” And with that, he gets up, leaving me with a surprised Laurie, dirty glares from my fellow patrons, and my head spinning.
chapter 25
I wait for Charlie to return, staring out the window, watching the cars drive by, and thinking about what he said. I’m not interested in a new relationship or asking anyone out; I’m not ready to move on. I don’t think I’m holding onto memories of Sheri too tightly, but I still haven’t met anyone who makes me feel the same way. Laurie is pretty and I think I’d have a lot of fun on a date with her, but I also know there’s something missing.
Charlie plops down beside me. “Except for the Wi-Fi, this place is like a time machine: classic diner counter, old farmers drinking coffee and eating pie, posters on the window for hired hands. What’s next? Soft drinks in bottles?”
I point to a kid wearing neon colours who could have been pulled out of the ’80s at the counter, sucking at the straw in his bottle of root beer.
“Unbelievable.”
Charlie pulls the plate of doughnuts over to his side, and leans in close, taking a deep whiff. “These smell amazing.” He picks one up, takes a bite and nods his approval before pushing the plate over to me. I chomp down on one and it’s truly the freshest and most delicious sugary treat I’ve tasted in forever.
He notices my mug is empty. “Want some more coffee?” he asks, but before I can answer he takes off with both cups to the counter.
He stands beside a couple of older men wearing baseball caps that I’m guessing have the names of farm dealerships embroidered on the front and I can’t help but think that he belongs here. This is one of his skills, blending in so well that no one can see him while he observes everything.
Laurie’s busy in the kitchen—I can see her through the serving window—and she signals to Charlie that she’ll be a minute more. He acknowledges her with a nod and comes back to the table.
“Well, that was productive,” he declares, plunking himself down.
“How so?”
“Small town people like their scuttlebutt, Shepherd.”
“What did you hear?”
He doesn’t say anything until Laurie comes over to refill our cups, then poses a question, “Do you think it’s weird that this Terry guy got fired and went missing around the same time?”
I stare at him. “Huh, what are you talking about?”
Charlie leans over to me. “Terry was a mechanic at the local car dealership—”
“Huber’s,” Laurie interjects.
I know the place. It’s been around forever.
She glances at Charlie. “Do you know Terry?”
He shakes his head. “No. But word gets out.”
“That it does.” I add, looking up at Laurie. “We saw some cops and Charlie asked what was up. They said they’re searching for him.”
Laurie looks from Charlie to me, then sits down beside me. Her perfume is nice.
“What’s worse,” she tells us, “is that he got dumped at pretty much the same time.”
“Well, there’s a shitty day.” Charlie gives me a look that says Laurie thinks something’s up. “How do you know he got dumped?”
“Most things don’t stay quiet too long around here. But his ex, Miranda? She also worked at Huber’s as a ‘receptionist.’ ” She uses air quotes.
“Do you know her?” Charlie asks.
“Went to school with her. She alw
ays told us how she was going to be an actress or something. After graduation, she went away for a year or so, then came back. Something happened, wherever she went.”
“Like what?”
She shakes her head. “Don’t know. Some say she couldn’t handle living in the big city…”
Charlie watches Laurie’s finger run along the handle of the carafe, then says, more of a statement than a question, “But you think it was something else.”
Laurie smiles. “Spreading rumours isn’t good for business.”
I don’t envy her being the focus of Charlie’s questions and I’m not entirely sure what they have to do with the missing man. “Charlie…?”
I try to hold his gaze, hoping he’ll move on, but it’s Laurie who changes the subject. “Anyway, Miranda’s just a secretary now, answering phones and getting coffee. She always thought she was better than everyone else, but here she is, stuck right back here with the rest of us.”
Sounds like Laurie isn’t only talking about Miranda.
“And Terry wasn’t the worst guy she could’ve been with,” Laurie adds. “The woman from the jewelry store said he was planning to propose.”
I’m intrigued. “So why do you think she dumped him?”
“My guess? She was messing around. Not sure who with, but as a woman living in a small town… trust me, it’s definitely possible. Sometimes we’ll do anything for excitement.”
Laurie’s staring at me and I catch myself staring back.
Charlie interrupts, “Thanks, Laurie.”
She looks over at him and the moment is broken. “You’re welcome.” She stands up and moves to the next table to offer them a refill too.
chapter 26
When Laurie’s out of earshot, I lean in and ask Charlie, “When were you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“That Terry was fired—”
“And had a girlfriend!”
“Charlie!”
“What?” He realizes I’m upset. “Okay, fine, I’m sorry.”
“Remember how we talked about communication—” It feels like we’ve covered this ground too many times before.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t start whining.”
“You’re the one who asked me to help this time, not the other way around. So you share or I’m out.”
Charlie waves off my concern. “I know, I know.” Then he smiles, “But listen: Terry got fired and he had a girlfriend and she dumped him.”
“Are you… happy about this?”
“No, no,” he says. “It’s just—he’s no longer simply a missing guy. Shit happened to him, then he went missing.”
I can see the wheels turning in his deviant brain and feel a slight rush of anticipation rising in my belly before a pang of worry pushes it all back down.
Charlie taps his phone on the tabletop before slipping it into his pocket. “We should get going.”
“Why? You’ve satisfied your addiction?”
He nods, but I know that’s not it. “Charlie…?”
He ignores me and goes to the counter.
Laurie meets us at the register. “Your bill?”
Charlie smiles. “Yes, please. But can I also get two honey-
dipped to go?”
I can’t believe it. “You just ate two.”
He’s offended. “Hey, I was going to share!”
Laurie smiles as she bags up his treats. “How long are you staying, Charlie?”
Charlie looks over at me then back at Laurie with a grin. “Francis Bacon says, ‘Friends are thieves of time.’ I guess I’m going to stay until the vault is empty or the cops show up.”
Laurie stares at him and I cringe. A second later, I lean over to her and say, “I don’t like letting him out of his kennel much, but if I don’t, he wets himself.”
She giggles.
Charlie shoots me a dirty look. “Really? You went for a pee joke?”
I shrug.
“Fine, but that was worse than your dad’s puns.”
Laurie hands Charlie his bag of doughnuts and I pay. We go out the door and back into the sunshine. He’s already into the bag, grabbing his doughnut.
“Want yours?” he offers.
I shake my head, glancing at my watch. We don’t need to get the propane and groceries quite yet and I can tell Charlie’s got more on the agenda. “Let me guess. You want to check out Huber’s?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
chapter 27
We pull into Huber’s, an all-in-one dealership, repair shop, and gas station on a corner of Main Street.
We give it the once-over. “Seems like Huber’s doing well,” I say.
“You’ve been here before?” Charlie asks, chewing his doughnut thoughtfully.
“Dad used to occasionally fill up here.”
“Not anymore?”
“He always said they charged too much for gas.”
Charlie notes the price on the sign. “Yup, about two cents more.”
His eye for details is impressive. “Is there anything you don’t notice?”
He brushes off the compliment, but I think I see him smile as he climbs out of the car.
I follow.
“Place is in better shape than I remember. Less run down.”
“And see that?” he says, pointing. “Propane.”
Sure enough, a tank swap station sits along the far end of the building near the service doors.
“I’ll go get us a fresh tank while you go inside.”
“And do what?” I ask
“Look, listen, and learn, Shepherd.”
Charlie always makes it sound easy.
He sighs. “We’re teenagers, picking up stuff for the folks, right? Act natural and no one will ask.” He jams the last bite of doughnut into his mouth.
Makes sense. Most people wouldn’t mix reconnaissance missions and teenagers—but Charlie’s not most people.
chapter 28
I walk in and scope out the interior of Huber’s. It feels like a failed attempt at an upscale dealership. Red cement floors show the wear and tear of years and the faint smell of gasoline and oil slips through the back door that leads to the garage area. Fake plants and a display of winter tires stand near the tall picture windows that let in too much sun. The whole space is roasting, except for a small spot by the counter where a tiny air conditioner grinds away. Opposite the windows are shelves of oil, washer fluid, and spare parts, along with a wall rack filled with magazines, gum, and chocolate bars that have likely melted in this heat.
Beyond the counter, the office area is separated from the front by more windows. A woman works at a desk behind the glass, thumbing through grease-stained folders and tapping things into the computer with abnormally long, painted nails.
I’m not sure, but I’m guessing this is Miranda.
A man in a golf shirt comes in behind her and a faint flicker of memory tells me that this might be Huber’s son. He sets a coffee down beside her—nice of the boss to offer—and leans over to see what she’s up to on the computer. She points and talks without making eye contact, but from this angle, it seems like he’s got the perfect pervert’s view down the front of the tight-fitting dress she’s poured herself into.
Something else doesn’t feel right about what I’m seeing, though, and when she stands and turns to talk to him, she taps his stomach with her fingertips and another memory of Sheri flashes across my mind’s eye—laughing, poking, grinding my gears to start something silly, staring at my lips when she wanted a kiss, the smell of her skin, close to me and yet so far away—
Wait, this is too intimate. Shit, what a cliché. Miranda’s doing her boss.
I recall the horrible feeling I had when Sheri wasn’t texting back, when I hadn’t heard from her in days. It was a sick feeli
ng, thick and black in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t feel like laughing or flirting. I just wanted to find her or hear from her or distract myself from that heavy, awful feeling. Now, as I watch Miranda, I’m angry.
“What’s this about? I’ve never understood.” Charlie has snuck in behind me, standing at the rack, contemplating a porno magazine wrapped in plastic with stickers over the naughty bits. “So they’re naked and doing it. Big deal.” He dismisses the idea. “Whatever. I guess some people are into it.”
Between what I’ve gathered about Miranda and my anger over her infidelity, Charlie’s sudden appearance and his
apparent disgust with sex magazines leaves me a bit speechless. I would’ve thought all of this was right up his alley.
He gently knocks a set of fuzzy dice, making them swing. “Now, forget magnets on fridges. These say something about a person.” He takes a car magazine off the rack and flips the pages.
“Charlie,” I whisper, “I found the boyfriend.”
He whistles, staring at the magazine sideways like a centerfold. “Check out the torque specs on that!”
“Charlie,” I repeat, a bit louder, “I found the boyfriend.”
“Her boss, Huber.”
I stare at him. “You knew?”
“Of course. Well, I had a strong suspicion anyway.”
“Look.” I point and Charlie puts the magazine back on the rack and leans around me so he can see what I’m seeing. Miranda has quit touching Huber, but now his hand is on her waist and she’s not moving it.
“Sure doesn’t seem like a girl who’s sad about her missing boyfriend,” Charlie says, keeping his voice low.
“Nope.”
“But we know that’s her for sure?” he asks.
“Not really.”
“I think we need to get her alone to find out. And maybe ask some questions.”
Charlie goes to the window and stares at a big red muscle car with low-profile tires parked out front. It’s a pathetic mid-life crisis vehicle with way too much detailing, ground effects, and accessories. It’s so excessive, it’s ridiculous.
“How much you want to bet that’s Boss Man’s? Can I get your keys, please?”
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