The old man stared at it hungrily. “Wish I did.”
“Can you tell me about him?” She held the bill out.
He grabbed the money and shoved it into his pocket. “Well, he likes to eat apples. That’s why we call him Charlie Apple.”
“Does he like to eat the green ones?”
“Sure, that’s their natural color. He likes natural green, like in plants and grass and what-not.”
Casey thought about this. “But not green clothing, for instance?”
“Never that. No way.” The old man chuckled. “One time, he broke a store window and butchered a St. Paddy’s Day display. He avoids the holiday altogether now.” The old man’s expression grew somber. “Charlie once said that people in green are evil spirits pretending to be trees. ’Course, he was probably off his meds when he said it.”
“Meds?”
The old man nodded. “Charlie’s been hearing voices a long time, he told me once. Talks to ’em too. Doubt Charlie even knows what normal feels like.”
Schizophrenia perhaps? “How long have you known him?”
He scratched his chin. “Started seeing him on the streets about four years ago, I guess, give or take.” The man took a gulp of water. “When things get bad, Charlie wanders the streets all night, arguing with hisself, or maybe the voices in his head.”
Casey noticed a young couple with a stroller, staring at the old man in disdain. “Think he’ll show up today?”
“Charlie likes crowds, but one look at the cops and he’ll vanish.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, but it only smeared the mustard stain. “If Charlie’s stabbing people, he’s probably laying low. The man’s crazy, but he ain’t stupid.”
True, or he would have been caught by now. “Does Charlie have favorite hangouts?”
The old guy lifted a slightly mashed juice box out of the garbage and dropped it in his bag. “He likes the mall on rainy days.”
“What about sunny days like this?”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “Look for him in the trees. That’s where he feels safe. Charlie has agility. Climbs faster than anyone I know.”
Casey gazed up at the enormous trees around the stadium’s perimeter. She supposed he could have climbed a tree the night he stabbed Benny, then waited for the commotion to die down. But what about Stan? She couldn’t remember if there’d been trees nearby or not.
“If Charlie’s living on the streets, where would he hide if there are no trees around?”
“Don’t think he’s on the streets right now. Least I haven’t seen him a while. Word is he’s got a place somewhere around here, though I don’t know where, I swear that’s a fact.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“At the park ’n ride about a month ago.” The old man wiped sweat from his forehead. “Seen him there a few times over the past year. Guess you could call that a hangout.”
There was one not far from here. Most of the bays belonged to TransLink, but one was reserved for MPT buses. Casey again scanned the grounds. “Does Charlie ever wear anything other than black?”
“Not that I’ve seen.” He peered at her. “Don’t go after him yourself, miss. If Charlie’s carrying a knife, then you best stay well away.”
She flashed a grim smile. “That’s the plan.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Benny Lee’s quiet, residential street in South Burnaby was populated by modest, older homes. Judging from the grassy yards and many large trees, this neighborhood was a well-established testament to a time when single-family homes were affordable for average-income earners. Casey wouldn’t be surprised if some of the homeowners had lived here for over forty years. These days, new owners would have to be double-income professionals, probably with enormous mortgages. Even Benny’s older home on an average-sized lot would be worth well over a million bucks. No wonder Yvette wanted him to sell.
Glancing at the bag containing his personal belongings, she wondered if Benny truly was having doubts about driving a bus again. Should she persuade him to stay, convince him that he’d make a great supervisor? Benny never saw himself as management material, though. Could be a hard sell, seeing as how staff disillusionment, fear, and anger were at an all-time high.
These days, everyone was looking over their shoulder, praying they wouldn’t be on MPT property when the next explosion went off. And most employees believed there’d be another one. If it did happen, Gwyn would blame her, maybe fire her on the spot. As much as she loathed his tactics and brusque manner, she knew in her heart that she really wanted to stay with MPT, at least until most of her friends had moved on.
Casey parked across the street from Benny’s house. Max’s Dodge Ram wasn’t here. If she was lucky, Reese wouldn’t be home either. Benny’s SUV was in the driveway, which meant that either Yvette or the brothers had ventured onto MPT property to pick it up. A newer model Toyota RAV was parked behind Benny’s vehicle. Probably Yvette’s. So, what did Reese drive?
She collected Benny’s belongings and stepped out of the car. The light blue paint and white trim on Benny’s house was streaked with grime in places and the lawn needed mowing. Ivy vines had spread across the cracked concrete walkway. Max and Reese should have been doing more to help around the house, the lazy jerks.
Children’s happy shouts came from the backyard. Casey had phoned Yvette earlier to say she’d be coming by. Yvette told her to come around back, as she’d be working there. Casey headed down the side of the house, noting the detached garage to her left and the small dirt-encrusted window. Peeking through the window, she saw boxes, tools, bicycles, old appliances, and other junk everywhere. A perfect hiding place for arson paraphernalia like gas cans and glass jars.
Casey unlatched a gate and entered the backyard. “Hello?”
Two preschoolers were playing on the grass, Yvette was sweeping the patio. She looked up as Casey ambled toward her.
“Hi, Casey.”
Dark circles still haunted her eyes and her black hair was gathered in a lopsided ponytail. She looked a lot like her mother before the cancer took hold. Casey had met Yvette’s mom at a Christmas party shortly after she joined MPT. She remembered a warm vivacious woman, half Caucasian and half Chinese. Yvette had many of her mother’s features—large brown eyes and high cheekbones—but her skin was paler.
“Thanks for bringing Dad’s things.”
“You’re welcome. There weren’t any valuables.” Casey glanced at the bag. “Is Benny excited about coming home?”
“Relieved and anxious mainly. He’s still quite weak, so it looks like I’ll be staying here a while. Honestly, I wish he’d move in with me. This place is a pigsty, thanks to my bloody brothers.”
Casey noticed the open back door. “I take it they aren’t here?”
“They took off the moment I asked them to do some chores.”
“That sucks.” Casey glanced at the house. “Would you mind if I used your washroom? I’ll leave the bag inside.”
“Go ahead, but excuse the mess. The bathroom’s next on my to-do list, but I needed a break from the inside work.”
“I know what that’s like. Lou and I are caretakers for the old, large house we live in.”
She nodded. “Dad told me about your situation.” Yvette paused. “All that responsibility must be hard.”
“Sometimes.”
Benny was one of the few people who knew how betrayed she’d once felt by Rhonda’s violent act, and her trepidation when Rhonda asked her to continue living in the house and become Summer’s legal guardian. She wished she could tell him about Rhonda’s decision to keep her illness from Summer. Benny would have sound advice.
“A couple of months ago, Dad told me that you sold your father’s home,” Yvette said. “Was it difficult to let go of the house you were raised in?”
Why was she asking? Had Yvette given more thought to persuading Benny to sell his home?
“Not really,” Casey answered. “After Dad died, I and my first
husband moved in. When we split up, he stayed and paid rent until I was ready to sell. By that time any connection I felt for the place was gone.”
“I know what you mean.” Yvette watched her kids chase each other around the yard. “I haven’t lived here in ages, but Dad still loves this place. Doesn’t want to leave, even though selling it would give him more than enough to live on without ever having to work again. I know he looks and acts much younger than he is, but Dad will be sixty-five next year.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize.” It sounded like Yvette had already discussed this with Benny.
“I think memories of Mom keep him here.” Sadness crept over Yvette’s face. “Maybe he’s afraid the memories will fade away if he leaves.”
“Benny’s got a good head on his shoulders,” Casey said. “Once he’s stronger, he’ll be able to weigh the pros and cons.”
“I hope so.”
Casey climbed the back steps, grateful that Yvette was staying outside. She entered the dated but pristine kitchen that smelled of Pine Sol. Benny’s place was the standard design of the 70’s. Three bedrooms and a bathroom on one side of the house, living and dining area and kitchen on the other.
Casey started down the hallway, recalling that the first bedroom door on the right was Reese’s. At the last party, Benny mentioned that Max had turned the basement into his own suite. Casey hurried past the bathroom on the left and scooted into the master bedroom to find dated black lacquer furniture against ivory walls. The only bright colors in the room came from a desk next to the dresser, where tea candles and dried flowers were neatly arranged around a photo of Benny’s wife.
Casey placed the bag on Benny’s bed, then searched the open closet. No uniform. She rushed back down the hall and opened the closet by the front door. Nothing there either. A car door slammed in front of the house. Footsteps stomped toward the door.
She dashed into the bathroom just as the front door banged shut. Heavy footsteps clumped into the kitchen. Through the partially open window, Casey heard Reese’s voice but couldn’t tell what he was saying. She was tempted to go back and check the bureau drawers but she’d been gone long enough.
Casey headed back down the hall, pausing at Reese’s door. Tempted as she was to peek inside, Reese was too tall and thin to fit into Benny’s uniform, so it was unlikely he’d have it. But what about Max and the basement suite?
Back outside, Casey strolled toward them. Reese’s startled expression turned to annoyance. “What are you doing here?”
Despite the kid’s wiry frame, there was something formidable about him that went beyond the hostile attitude.
“Don’t be rude.” Yvette scowled at her brother. “Casey was kind enough to drop off Dad’s belongings.”
Casey didn’t like his skeptical stare.
“Learn anything about this freak they’re calling the Blade Man?” Reese asked her.
Casey cringed. She was reluctant to update them, partly because the cops wouldn’t appreciate her sharing information they’d disclosed to Stan, but also because she didn’t know what Max or Reese would do with that knowledge.
“Your expression tells me you know something,” Yvette said.
“The suspect’s name is Charlie Applebee and he was homeless, but might not be anymore.” She saw the surprised glances exchanged between Reese and Yvette. “I talked to a homeless man this afternoon who knows Charlie. He said that Charlie hates the color green and likes to climb trees, which might be how he got away after he attacked Benny. I told the investigating officer about it an hour ago.”
“What did the officer say?” Yvette asked.
“That I had no business interfering in their investigation.”
“Seems that you’re doing a better job than they are,” Yvette said. “Keep going.”
Casey hesitated. “I could wind up in a lot of trouble.”
“Dad told me about your crime-solving skills.” Yvette’s expression grew intense. “He said that when people you care about are hurt, you’ll do whatever it takes to get justice. We desperately need that, Casey.”
Man, she was really pouring it on. “Searching for justice also resulted in serious repercussions.”
“Just think about it, okay? I know Dad would be grateful,” Yvette said. “Which reminds me, I have some injury forms that I helped him complete. Would you mind delivering them to your HR department for me?”
“Sure. I could look them over if you’d like,” Casey replied. “I don’t know if Benny told you, but I was on medical leave last summer. The paperwork was daunting, to say the least.”
“I remember him talking about it,” Yvette replied. “He was really worried. Said you were attacked by a home invasion suspect and had to postpone your wedding.”
“Yeah. The guy’s trial is this fall.”
It frustrated her not to have received full closure yet. Benny’s injuries were a painful reminder of the horrible things some people did to one another. And of the lack of proactive support for people like Charlie Applebee.
“Oh god, you made me realize something.” What little color Yvette had on her cheeks drained away. “Dad might have to face his attacker in court one day.”
“Not for a while,” Casey answered. “The system doesn’t move quickly.”
“Which means this nightmare won’t end quickly for Dad.” She shook her head. “He’ll stew over it.”
“I found that going back to my normal routine, and staying busy really helped, especially when I was surrounded by friends.”
Yvette appeared to be assessing her, as if trying to decide if the statement was helpful or not. “Let’s get the papers. The sooner we submit them, the sooner Dad’ll receive financial assistance.”
“Which you’ll control, no doubt,” Reese grumbled. Without waiting for her response, he headed inside.
Yvette sighed and also started toward the kitchen door. “The forms are in my purse.”
Casey glanced at the basement window overlooking the backyard. “Would you like me to stay here and watch the kids?”
“As long as the gate’s closed, they’ll be fine.” She started up the stairs. “Better they’re out here than getting underfoot inside.”
“The latch didn’t quite close properly. I’ll check it and catch up with you inside.”
“Thanks.”
Casey ambled toward the gate, stopping to kick a wayward soccer ball back to the kids. Yvette was just entering the house when Casey opened the gate and hurried down the side. Scrunching down, she cupped her hands around her eyes and peered through the basement window into an open living and kitchen area scattered with dirty dishes. Clothing, a guitar, and other items cluttered the living room, but she didn’t see any uniform.
She hurried to the back of the house and peered through that window. Same view, different angle, and still no uniform in sight. Unfortunately, Max’s bedroom wasn’t visible from this angle, but maybe it didn’t matter. Max could just as easily keep the uniform in his truck.
Casey entered the kitchen, where Yvette had spread the contents of a large vinyl bag over the table. Rap music blaring behind Reese’s door set Casey on edge.
“I must have left the forms in my car,” Yvette said, “and I need Dad’s health and work ID numbers from his wallet, which I put in his bureau.”
“I’ll fetch it for you, if you like.”
“I appreciate it. His wallet’s in the top drawer.”
“By the way, have you found Benny’s second uniform yet? It wasn’t in his locker.”
“Honestly, I haven’t had time to look, but go ahead if you want.” Yvette grabbed her car keys and hurried outside.
Perfect, although she doubted that the invitation extended to Max’s basement suite. Casey hurried down the hallway and shut Benny’s bedroom door to muffle the music. She glanced at the shrine, hoping that her invasion of Benny’s privacy would be forgiven.
Opening the top drawer, Casey found herself staring at a mish-mash of socks and underwear. Good lo
rd. The colorful briefs and brightly striped socks were far more information than she wanted.
Casey located the wallet quickly and peeked inside. His ID badge wasn’t there. Nor was it on top of the bureau. She opened the other drawers. A missing uniform and badge. Not good. Casey was pulling open the fourth drawer when the door banged open.
“What the hell are you doing?” Reese glared at her.
Casey jumped. “I could ask you the same thing, banging the door open like that. Yvette asked me to get your dad’s wallet, and I asked her if I could look for his uniform so I could get him another one in the correct size.”
“Don’t bother.”
Casey returned his glare. “A lot of us don’t want him to quit, Reese. We love Benny, and I know he loves his job.”
Yvette appeared. “What’s going on?”
“Caught her going through Dad’s stuff,” he replied. “Claimed to be looking for Dad’s wallet and uniform.”
“She is, and how dare you accuse our guest of anything.”
Muttering a few swear words, Reese left the room.
Yvette sighed. “I’m not sure he’ll ever grow up.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Casey hesitated. “Look, I may sound naïve and overly optimistic, but I can’t stand the idea of some violent freak scaring Benny out of a job he loves. I don’t think your dad would want to leave under those circumstances.”
“True, but what’s the sense in returning until management takes more steps to protect drivers?” Yvette gazed at the papers in her hand. “If Dad sold this house, he could work part-time on his own terms.”
This was the second time she’d raised the topic. Casey liked Yvette but didn’t know her well. Teachers didn’t earn a lot of money, and Casey couldn’t remember what Yvette’s husband did for a living. Was it possible she wanted to sell Benny’s house to help with her own debts?
“Let’s take the forms to the kitchen table.” Yvette picked up Benny’s wallet and headed down the hall.
“Yvette, do you know what happened to Benny’s ID badge? I didn’t notice it in his wallet or in his room, and it wasn’t in his locker either. He wore it on a lanyard.”
The Blade Man Page 18