“We’re on the wrong side,” Charlie said, to the mustached cop.
“I’d like it if you walked us through how it all unfolded for you,” the mustached cop said.
His voice was so reasonable. He gave Charlie a big smile like he was Charlie’s friend. Charlie scowled. He and Sandy walked ahead.
“You know he’s a dick,” Charlie said, under his breath.
“I know,” Sandy said. “But he’s better than that twerp Aziz. Now, he’s a real asshole. I could tell you stories . . . At least this one makes some effort.”
Charlie chuckled and Sandy smiled. They caught up with Tim and his parents at the down ramp to the Cherry Creek Trail from Fourteenth Avenue.
“We’d just finished working the Pepsi Center,” Charlie said. “There was some game there—Avalanche, Nuggets . . .”
“It was a concert,” Tink said.
Surprised, Charlie turned to see Tink and Ivy walking with Nash, Teddy and Noelle just behind him.
“One of those bands you hear in the grocery store,” Tink said. “Springsteen or the Who or . . .”
“Rolling Stones?” Tim’s dad asked.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Charlie said. “How’d you know?”
“We went to the concert,” Tim’s Dad said. “Barbara was supposed to meet us here afterwards. She dropped us off and took the car. Are you’re sure it was that night?”
“No,” Charlie looked at Tink. She shrugged. “We just worked the parking lot. The concerts were good because people get real drunk and high. They give us more money. Sometimes, the guys get belligerent with the girls, you know . . .”
“They had their music, now they want to get off,” Tink said.
“We just try to get what we need and get out,” Charlie said.
“Was the concert over?” Tim’s Dad asked.
“I think so,” Tink said. “Remember, we had enough money for pizza?”
“Someone gave us their tickets and we got a discount at that place next door,” Charlie said. “We had enough for two extra pizzas. That’s food for two days. We were pretty happy about that.”
Charlie’s words were matter of fact. But the adults were startled that so little food would feed so many kids for two days. Sandy squeezed Charlie’s arm.
“We were coming down here,” Charlie said. “Ivy had her skateboard.”
Ivy ran ahead to show them where she was. Nash ran after her.
“So we had to go down the ramp,” Charlie said. “We usually don’t use this side because it’s the bike side and people are assholes. There’s always some chunky guy on a fancy bike swearing at anyone who gets in his way.”
“I know what you mean,” Tim said.
Charlie nodded.
“I was about here when I saw something on the other side,” Charlie said. “The drainpipe over there is a great place to sleep. It’s quiet and pretty safe. I was checking it out because I wanted some place to put the pizza while we slept. Some frat boy might take it, you know?”
“I was behind you with the other girls,” Tink said. “Like now. But Ivy was way up ahead. Pan said we should go check out what was there because maybe it was something good.”
Charlie nodded. When Tim’s Mom let out a little sob, Charlie looked over at them. Tim’s Dad put his arm around her and she cried into his shoulder.
“Um . . .” Charlie couldn’t take his eyes off Tim’s parents. Sandy squeezed his arm, and he looked at her.
“We went back to the top,” Tink said. “Ivy wanted to go down to the crossing but Pan wouldn’t let her.”
“It’s not a great time of the night,” Charlie said. “When the concerts out, the bars fill . . . It’s just not great . . . for any of us, but especially girls.”
“We were always careful.” Tink nodded. “There’s enough trouble without asking for it.”
“I knew he was right,” Ivy said. “But I was grumpy about it.”
“What else is new?” Tink laughed. Ivy smirked and pretended to be grumpy for the reenactment.
When Charlie started up the bridge, he saw Colin Hargreaves at the top. Charlie could see his handgun in a side holster and Colin’s Homeland Security badge on his belt. He wasn’t sure why, but having his martial arts teacher there made him feel a little better. Colin was taping the whole thing on a video camera. When Charlie got to the top, he saw his lawyer’s boyfriend, Art Rasmussen. The tall, muscular man nodded to Charlie like he was doing a good job. Charlie blushed.
“So we got to the top and realized we couldn’t go down on the other side here,” Charlie said. “We weren’t really thinking straight. Then somebody said . . .”
“Jeffy,” Ivy said. “It was Jeffy.”
“That’s right,” Charlie said. “Jeffy was little. He kneeled down over there and said we should go back because it was a person. We all ran back.”
Charlie ran across the bridge and down the path. He forded the river before Tink even got to it. Tim and his parents reached Tink by the time Charlie was near the storm drain.
“It was about like that,” Charlie said. “I’m fast so I got over here before anyone else. Jeffy stayed up on the bridge.”
Charlie pointed to where Ivy and Noelle were standing.
“I stayed with Jeffy,” Ivy said.
“Can you wait for us?” Tim’s father asked.
“Sure,” Charlie said.
Tim and his father helped Tim’s mother across the stream. The mustached police officer reached him about the time Tim got there.
“I found her right here.” Charlie pointed to a three foot wide sandy triangle just below the large drainage pipe. He stepped from one large boulder to the next until he jumped down into the sand. “She was crumpled up right here.”
“Did she say anything?” Tim’s mother asked.
“I don’t think she could,” Charlie said. “I knew there was a blanket there so I grabbed it and put it over her. I don’t know anything about medicine or whatever, but the girls caught up with me. We checked to see if she was really hurt.”
“I put pressure on the cuts on her belly,” Tink said.
“I know you guys say that I saved her or whatever,” Charlie said. “But mostly we didn’t know what to do. She was pretty hurt. Um . . .”
Charlie touched his face next to his chin and between his legs.
“We didn’t want to leave her,” Charlie said. “The pizza was still warm, and she was really cold, so I put the boxes on top of her. I think one of the girls got down and held her. But we were super scared.”
“Why Charlie?” Sandy asked. “Why were you so scared?”
“Because it wasn’t the first time we’d seen this,” Charlie said. “And she was . . .”
Charlie glanced at Tim’s parents. Tim’s Mom had turned into her father and was weeping.
“Ivy flagged down a car and begged the lady to take her to the hospital,” Charlie said. “We didn’t think she could wait for an ambulance. We helped load her in the back of the lady’s SUV.”
“Did she have her purse?” the mustached cop asked.
“Um . . .” Charlie scowled and looked at Tink.
“It’s okay if you took it,” Tim’s Dad said. “I probably would have.”
“I don’t really know,” Charlie said. “We were really scared.”
“Just go through it like it happened,” Art said.
Hearing his voice, Charlie jerked up to look at him. He walked to Charlie and put his hand on Charlie’s shoulders.
“You mean act it out?” Charlie asked.
“Try to be as exact as possible,” Art said. “Sometimes, that jogs things loose in your memory.”
Art nodded. Charlie grabbed the clipboard from a uniformed police officer nearby. He ran across the river to the other side. He jogged up the ramp and onto the bridge.
“I’ll be Jeffy,” Ivy said. Nash ran over to stand by her. Ivy artificially lowered her voice, “Hey, that’s a person.”
“What do you mean?” Charlie asked.
“Some girl,” Ivy’s lowered voice said. “Nobody we know.”
“Where?” Charlie asked and leaned over.
He ran across the bridge and down the ramp. He splashed across the river. The people moved aside and he went to the sandy bank. He set the pretend pizza on the ground and pretended to grab a blanket from the dark pipe. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the mustached cop signal the forensics team to check out the pipe.
Charlie kneeled down and pretended to throw a blanket over the girl. Tink pretended to pull off her sweatshirt and pressed it onto the sand.
“Purse,” the mustached cop said.
Charlie shook his head. Tink looked up and shook her head. Charlie looked up at Ivy.
“Did you see it?” Charlie asked Ivy.
“I remember there being something over by those rocks,” Ivy said. “But I don’t know if it was a purse.”
“I only remember seeing her,” Charlie said. “I was kinda freaked out, because I didn’t know her and she was in really bad shape. The cops had already bugged us about all of . . . episodes and I figured they’d think we did it. And she was so hurt.”
He looked at Tink and shrugged.
“Did you see anything?” Charlie asked Tink.
“Maybe,” Tink said. “But I don’t think it was her purse. It was more like . . .”
Tink looked at Charlie. He nodded.
“Her underwear and stuff . . .” Tink said.
“Where?” the mustached cop asked.
Tink was so surprised by his voice that she shook her head. She looked at Charlie.
“Over there.” Ivy pointed.
Charlie got up and went to where Ivy pointed.
“Here?” Charlie yelled.
“Over there,” Ivy said.
Charlie walked over to where boulder sized jagged rocks stood straight up in the sand.
“Here?” Charlie asked.
Ivy nodded.
“She says it was here,” Charlie said. “But . . .”
“Did she say anything?” Tim’s Mom asked again.
“She wasn’t really awake, ma’am,” Charlie said. “She looked like she’d been bashed . . . I mean there was blood on these rocks and stuff. She opened her eyes . . . She just looked at me. That’s all. Tink?”
“Pan said something like wake up,” Tink said. “And she opened her eyes. I mean, her face was all puffy and blue and she’d lost some teeth. Like me I guess.”
“She wasn’t afraid of you?” the mustached cop asked.
“Me? Why would she be afraid of me?” Charlie shrugged. “But . . .”
Charlie looked down at the sand next to the rock.
“I didn’t come back here after that,” Charlie said. “I was too . . .”
He looked at Tink.
“It was hard on all of us,” Tink said. “I think we avoided the area. I mean . . .”
Tink gestured to Ivy.
“She . . . happened here . . .” Tink looked at Charlie. “I was inside then. Did you find Ivy too?”
Charlie nodded.
“Here?” The mustache cop sounded surprised.
“It’s not far from where I . . . I mean . . .” Tink shifted uncomfortably.
“Look around,” Art said. “Do you see a light? All the fixtures are broken. Zero surveillance cameras. This piece of sand? That culvert? You could do anything and no one would see you.”
“We used to come down here all the time. No one was here,” Charlie said. ”As long as we stayed away from the urbanites at rush hour, no one bugged us.”
“How did you find Ivy if you didn’t come here?” the mustached cop asked him.
“I was looking for her,” Charlie said. “I thought she might have gone with Saint Jude, but Jeffy said no. We went looking for her.”
“And Tiffanie?” the mustached cop asked.
“Charlie was already living with us then,” Sandy said.
“How did you get away?” Charlie asked Tink.
“I climbed in there when I woke up,” Tink said.
“Woke up?” the mustached cop asked.
“They drugged me with something,” Tink nodded. “Ivy too.”
They looked up at Ivy, and she nodded.
“They probably drugged your daughter,” Tink said.
Tim’s Dad looked surprised.
“I didn’t know what was happening,” Tink said. “Not at all until I woke up. I’d bet that your daughter didn’t either.”
“Tink?” Charlie waved her over to where he was. “Look.”
He pointed to the rocks. They were all equally spaced apart except for the one he was standing over.
“They weren’t like that before . . .” Charlie said.
“Come on out of there,” Art said.
Charlie looked up at him. Art waved Charlie and Tink away from the rock. He held out his hand and pulled Tink up to the cement walk way. He helped Charlie out next. He pulled on latex gloves and jumped down to the sand. Squatting down, he lifted the rock.
Everyone gasped. Under the rock lay purses and wallets and other trophies of the assaults.
“That’s it! That’s it!” Tim yelled. He pointed to a gold necklace on the side of the stash. “That’s Barbie’s necklace!”
He tried to get down to the sand, but a uniformed cop stopped him.
“Get them out of here,” the mustached cop said.
Sandy and Mike hustled Tink and Charlie away from the sand bar. Charlie didn’t say a thing until he was buckled into the passenger seat of Mike’s old Bronco.
“What do you think?” Mike asked.
“I think there are a lot more girls,” Charlie said.
“I think you’re right,” Mike started the car and drove back to the Castle.
Chapter Two Hundred and Thirty-Five
Trouble
Wednesday night—11:59 p.m.
Aden grabbed the note pinned to his apartment door and stepped into the apartment. Seeing the gas fireplace on, he groaned. He figured the kids must have gotten up after Sandy went to bed. He took a couple steps to turn off the fireplace and realized he was standing in a sea of teenagers.
Aden peered around the room at what looked like a couple girls and a couple of boys. He tried to make out their hair color to see if these were his kids to be shooed off to bed or someone else’s kids sleeping over.
“Hi,” Sandy’s voice came from the couch in a loud whisper.
Not daring to move, for fear of stepping on someone, he glanced over to her. She got up and went around the sleeping kids. Taking his hand, she led him into the kitchen.
“Did you get the note?” she asked.
He held up the unopened note. She grinned at him.
“I thought I could read it inside,” he said.
She nodded.
“How did it go tonight?” she asked in a low tone.
He shook his head and pulled off his tie. She reached up on her tip toes and kissed him. He held her tight.
“How was tonight?” he asked.
“A lot has happened,” Sandy said. “Did you eat?”
As if he was thinking, he looked up at the ceiling and then shook his head. She smiled at him and leaned into the refrigerator. His eyes followed her efforts with keen interest.
“Oh, I saved you . . .” Sandy took out a portion of the chicken pot pie. “Honey made this for the kids. It’s your favorite. Should I warm it up a bit?”
He took the plate and fork from her and began eating. She smiled. After he’d had a few bites, he gestured with the fork for her to tell him about her night.
“On his way home from school, Charlie ran into a boy,” Sandy said. Aden scowled. “No, not one of those boys. Mike was with him, like we’d agreed. Tim, that’s the boy’s name; his sister is one of the girls who committed suicide. Tim saw Charlie at the police station and wanted Charlie to tell him about what happened to his sister. I guess her family didn’t know much.”
Aden nodded.
“Honey made that
outstanding pot pie. Delphie made the crust.” Sandy smiled. Aden nodded. “Tim and his parents came for dinner.”
Aden raised his eyebrows and nodded.
“Right,” Sandy said. “It was nice. They seemed relieved to have something else to think about. Anyway, it turns out that Tim and Sissy went to school in Westminster. They moved to town when all this happened and their daughter was in the hospital. Tim started online high school like Charlie. Then they sent their daughter to a program out of town. She was home on a break when she killed herself. Can you imagine?”
Aden shook his head.
“Anyway, Sissy was excited to see him.”
Aden furrowed his brow and gestured with his fork.
“Yes, he’s sleeping out there too,” Sandy said. “His parents . . . I can’t imagine what they’ve been through. Anyway, they seemed happy to see Tim make some friends. Normal, that’s what his mom kept saying; she was glad to ‘have a little normal in her life.’ I guess their whole world fell apart when this happened, and now that their daughter is dead . . . Everything’s kind of stopped for them. They seemed to feel relieved that things are moving, even a little bit.”
Aden took a drink of milk and said, “Did you go there?”
“Right,” Sandy said. “We did. It was a big deal because none of the girls have really said anything to the police and Charlie . . . well, I guess we just haven’t gotten there.”
“Sounds hard,” Aden said, and took a bite.
“It was hard,” Sandy said. “Mike took Charlie so he’d have time to talk if he needed it. Charlie was so brave. Colin and Art were there, mostly to support Charlie. They took a video so everything was on the up and up. Charlie went through finding their daughter. It was really hard for Tim’s parents. That’s why Tim’s here, to give them some time to work through it together.”
“Where did you go?” Aden asked.
“Fourteenth and Market on the Cherry Creek Trail,” Sandy said. “Can you believe it? Right in the middle of everything this horribleness goes on.”
Aden nodded.
“There are cookies over there,” Sandy said. “We made cookies when we got back to calm everyone down a little.”
Silt, Denver Cereal Volume 8 Page 15
