by Mark Stone
“Forget what I just said,” Boomer said, turning back to me and stuffing his phone back into his pocket.
“Which part?” I asked, looking back up at him.
“All of it,” he said.“Charlotte’s car was just found outside of town. The windshield had been shattered and there was blood on the front seat.” His face hardened as he continued, his nostrils flaring because he was now feeling the anger that I had felt since I got the call from Isaac this morning. “You were right, Dillon. Something bad has happened to Charlotte.”
“Okay,” I said, swallowing and standing to meet him again. “Then let’s get her back. Let’s go to work.”
5
There’s a day that, no matter how many years pass by, I can never seem to forget. I was seventeen--on the cusp of eighteen-- which was-in turn- on the cusp of adulthood. But, as you do when you’re young, I thought I was much older than I was. I thought the boy staring back at me in the rearview of Charlotte’s dad’s old car was a man, and he had been for a long time now. Back then, I didn’t know about all the miles I’d have to run, about all the loss I’d have to endure, about all the failure and victory that would be planted firmly under my belt before I could really and honestly call myself a man.
That day, though, on the road, with Charlotte beside me, I was happy to not know any better. The perfect song was on the radio, the sun was coming up like a bright orange tangerine in the Florida sky, and I had my girl beside me. The Gulf-side highway stretched out for what seemed like forever in front of me. And, in that moment, I would have given anything if it had been forever. I would have sacrificed every day that had come before and all the opportunities that still lay ahead if I could have existed in that moment for the rest of my life.
It couldn’t have been more perfect, and then she leaned over and kissed me. Suddenly, it was. Everything was mine. Everything was stretched out before me, everything was beautiful and pure, and nothing bad would ever get in.
In that instant, it occurred to me that, if heaven existed anywhere on earth, it was right there, it was right then.
As I pulled to stop on the side of a road that looked a lot like that one, staring at the very same car where I’d had that realization and understanding that the girl who had been sitting beside back then might very well have already taken her last breath, I wondered if I had ever been more wrong about anything in my life.
“Are you okay?” Boomer asked, staring over at me from behind the steering wheel with a furrowed brow and a deflated look on his face. He loved Charlotte too, not like I did, of course. Still, this couldn’t have been easy for him. The idea that we might have already been too late had to be weighing on his mind. We had both seen too many of these scenes. We had stood here, on roads just like this, looking at abandoned vehicles much like Charlotte’s, hoping to find a woman but knowing we were more than likely really looking for a body.
That was the way of these things. When people go missing, especially women, especially young, beautiful women, they don’t last very long. By the time we know they’ve been taken, it’s too late.
I couldn’t believe that, though, not if I wanted to keep my sanity, not if I wanted to be effective at my job. I had to calm down. I had to keep these thoughts from tearing through my mind, leaving me helpless and useless against what might have very well been the darkest morning of my life.
“I’m fine,” I said. It was a lie, but I wanted it to be true, and that had to count for something. Pulling the door handle, I looked over at my boss. “Come on. You know how this goes. Every minute that goes by is one minute too many.”
Boomer nodded at me, and we both wordlessly exited the vehicle. There was a squad car in front of us, its lights flashing, but its sirens turned off. A younger woman with dark brown hair and a hop in her walk came toward us. She was well put together and followed by a taller man, also young, who looked much less proper, with an untucked shirt and a lopsided belt.
“Chief Anderson, Detective Storm,” the woman said, nodding curtly at us. “My name is Officer Wendy Mammoth. This is my partner, Officer Chris Towns.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said. “What do-”
“We’ve actually already met,” Chris Towns said, smiling like a doofus and extending his hand for me to shake. “At last year’s Christmas party. We had a pretty cool conversation about the Jaguars chances at the postseason.”
I did not take his hand.
“Is that right?” I asked, taking a deep breath.
“Yeah,” he answered. “You were a big fan of-”
“Officer Towns, I’m sure you like football as much the next guy. I know I sure do, but right now isn’t the time, okay? That car belongs to a woman who is very important to me, and as such, you can understand why I might want to focus on things like actually finding her and less on what kind of bench the damn Jaguars have!”
“Right,” Chris said, pulling his hand away quickly and looking down at the ground. “I didn’t mean anything by it, sir.”
“I understand that,” I said, sighing and instantly feeling guilty about the tone I’d used. “Let’s just keep our attention where it needs to be for the moment.”
“Yes, sir,” he said sheepishly.
“How much blood did you find in the car?” Boomer asked, turning his attention to Wendy as opposed to Chris, which didn’t surprise me. “And did you dust the damn thing for prints yet?”
The first question gutted me. My mind had been running so quickly, that it never occurred to me to ask just how much blood was in the car. For all I knew, there could have been gallons staining the seats. That would have been all the proof I’d needed to reasonably believe that Charlotte was dead. My heart skipped sickeningly as I awaited the answer.
“Not much,” Wendy said, her words taking a huge weight off my shoulders. The lack of a huge amount of blood, of course, didn’t mean that Charlotte was okay, but it did mean that I didn’t have conclusive proof that she wasn’t, and you had to take the wins where you could get them in times like these. “And yes, we dusted for prints. We found three sets. One was smaller, and in keeping with a child’s. So, we’re confident they probably belong to the victim’s son.”
“The victim’s son,” I muttered before I could stop myself. The words struck me like a blow to the chest, nearly knocking me on my back.
“Did I say something wrong, sir?” Wendy asked, looking over at me.
“No,” I said. “It’s just that-”
I heard a noise, faint but familiar. It was a light melody from somewhere off in the distance. Still, I recognized it. It was ‘In My Life’, by the Beatles. It was a beautiful song and a beautiful arrangement, but it meant more than that. It meant more because of what I knew it meant.
“That’s her ringtone,” I said, my body tensing as I turned to Boomer.
“Her ringtone?” Boomer asked.
“Yeah,” I said, turning and following the faint noise. “That’s Charlotte’s ringtone. Her phone is somewhere around here.”
6
“And you didn’t find anything from the phone?” Grandpa asked, walking beside me in the woods near where Charlotte’s car was found. In the few hours since we’d found the car and the phone, Boomer had managed to pull together a quick rescue effort. It wasn’t as big as it could have been, given the small amount of time we’d had to set it up, but there was more than a handful of people on sight, and we had time on our side. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” I said, remembering the instant I found Charlotte’s phone under her car and going through it. “But we have some tech people going through it, trying to find metadata, whatever that is.”
“And the fingerprints?” Grandpa asked as I helped him cross over a fallen tree trunk.
“There were three sets,” I said. “One almost certainly belongs to Isaac, and the second set is certainly Charlotte’s, but there was a third set. My guess was that they belonged to Meredith, seeing as how I know Char
lotte lets her use her car whenever she needs to. It belongs to a male, though, judging by the size and shape. The prints are being run through the system. Hopefully, we’ll find a match soon.”
“Hopefully,” my grandfather said, his voice low and solemn.
“What about Isaac?” I asked, blinking hard. All of this had been happening so quickly that I hadn’t actually managed to see my nephew again since this morning, since I left him crying, buried in my grandfather’s chest.
“He was sleeping when I left,” Grandpa said, shaking his head. “The kid was torn up, but I finally managed to get him to eat something. So, that’s good.”
“And you left him in good company?” I asked, looking over at the old man.
“I left him with Meredith. I wouldn’t be out here if I hadn’t,” Grandpa scoffed. “I’m not as irresponsible as all that. After all, I did raise you.”
“I know that,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s not what I meant. I’m just nervous. That’s all.”
“It’s to be expected,” he said, shrugging. “But we’re going to find her, Son. I can feel it.”
I gave my grandfather a polite half smile and nodded, though I was careful to keep my mouth shut. I had been at this job long enough to know that things like feelings and positive attitudes, while nice, didn’t do much to actually help a case. My grandfather might believe that Charlotte was okay, or going to be okay, but that didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things. Of course, the old man would probably think differently, and even as a police officer, I knew better than to think getting into an argument with him was a good idea.
So, instead, I just nodded, and said, “I hope so, Grandpa. I really do. Lord knows, I’m going to work as hard as I can to make sure you’re right.”
“I knew you would, Son,” he said, throwing an arm over my shoulder and slapping me comfortingly on the back. “That’s what makes you a good person.”
It was a hell of a compliment from a hell of a man, but I couldn’t help noticing one of the words he’d used.
“What do you mean would?’ I asked, narrowing my eyes at the guy who raised me.
Grandpa took a deep breath. “I know you want to be on this case, Son. I know you feel like it’s important to you, but I don’t know if doing that is in your best interest or not.”
“My best interest?” I balked. “Are you joking? I couldn’t give a damn about what’s in my best interest right now, Grandpa. I care about what’s in Charlotte’s best interest.”
Grandpa waited just a beat before he spoke, seemingly to make sure he was as articulate as he wanted to be at this moment. “First off, if you swear at me again, I’m going to bend you over my knee and tan your hide. I don’t care that you’re a thirty-five year old married detective. You understand me?”
I blinked at the man. He wouldn’t have actually done what he’d just threatened. First off, he was far too physically inadequate to do that, what with the effects of the cancer and all. Still, I got what he was getting at. Regardless of how old I was or how accomplished I might be, he was still my grandfather. Forgetting that, forgetting to treat him with the respect he’d earned, would only serve to hurt both of us, and I didn’t want that. “Yes. I-I’m sorry about that,” I answered.
“Secondly, maybe your best interests and Charlotte’s are the same right now,” Grandpa replied. “I’m not saying that you’re too close to this to be able to do your job right. I’ll leave that up to you. All I’m saying is that, if it was your grandmother who had gone missing, I wouldn’t be able to function the way I needed to in order to get her back.”
My heart skipped a beat, taking everything my grandfather had just said in. “I’m married, Grandpa,” I said. “She’s not that person to me.”
“She’s still important,” he said. “She was still a big part of your life. You forget that I was there when you fell for her. I watched the way you lit up. Hell, I saw the way you lit up when you came back here from Chicago. Those feelings were still there.”
“Maybe,” I answered, looking around at the surrounding woods. “But they’re not anymore.”
“Sure, they are,” he said. “They might have changed. Maybe they’re not romantic anymore, but they’re there. Your grandmother had a really good friend when we were younger. He died overseas, but he was a really good friend to her, and before she met me, he had dated her too. I used to get all riled up whenever he came over. My temper even got away from me sometimes. She would always look at me and say, ‘Love doesn’t go away. It transforms’.” My grandfather shrugged. “Maybe that’s what’s happened between you and Charlotte. Maybe your love transformed into something that allows you to stay in each other’s lives. It doesn’t mean it’s any less real, and it also doesn’t mean it won’t mess with your head, Dilly.”
“I can do this,” I said, swallowing hard and looking over at the man. “It’s not going to be easy, and it’s not going to be simple, but there isn’t another person on this earth, much less on this police force, who would give as much as I will to make sure Charlotte comes back home safely. I’d do it for her, and I’d do it for Isaac too.”
“Okay,” Grandpa said, giving me another slap on the back. “Okay, Son. That’s good enough for me.”
As he was speaking, my phone rang. Looking down, I saw that it was Justin Knight, my best friend from Chicago, a pretty damn good lawyer around these parts, and Charlotte’s ex-boyfriend.
I hadn’t even thought to tell him what happened, and as I answered the call, there was a catch in my voice.
“Justin, I’m so sorry, but we need to talk,” I said, sighing loudly.
“You’re damn right, we do,” he said, cutting me off. “Is it true? Has Charlotte gone missing?”
“She has,” I answered. “We’re looking for her now, and we’re-”
“I need to talk to you,” he said, as jittery as I’d ever heard Justin sound. “I need you to come over here, because we have to talk right now.”
“Justin,” I said, stopping where I stood. “What the hell is going on?”
“Charlotte said something to me the other day,” he said. “We had a conversation. It was weird. It was insanely out of character for her.” Justin breathed heavily into the phone. “Dillon, I think it might have something to do with why she went missing.”
7
I didn’t even knock on the door of Justin Knight’s office as I came through, bursting right through the door and toward the man. Justin was sitting at his desk, a show of calm that seemed impossible to me at this very moment. My nerves were running so fast and my blood was boiling so hot that the idea of thinking of anything else (even sitting down) was ridiculous.
“Dillon,” Justin said, standing up to meet me. “Would you close the door behind you?”
“Sure,” I said, as fidgety as I’d ever been, slamming the glass door closed and taking a deep breath, trying to calm myself down enough to actually manage a conversation. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“You’re going to be upset,” Justin said, swallowing hard and grabbing a bottle of water from the mini fridge beside his desk. He offered it to me.
“I’m already upset,” I said, absentmindedly grabbing the water.
“You’re going to be more upset,” he said as I twisted the lid off and took a quick chug of the water.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” I admitted, wiping my mouth and setting the water down on the man’s desk.
“It definitely is,” he answered. “You’re probably going to want to punch me. So, I’ll ask you right now to please not do that. I can hold my own, but hitting you back is a felony. So, we’re not exactly on equal footing.”
My eyes widened. I wasn’t sure what Justin could have done that would make me want to clean his clock, but the man knew me pretty well. So, if he thought I was going to be fighting mad about this, he was probably right.
“Spill, Knight,” I said, practically barking at the lawyer. “Were the two of you back together? Di
d you lead her on or something?”
“No,” he balked, shaking his head and twisting his mouth downward in disgust. “You know I would never do that.”
“What I know is that you’re a ladies’ man who never knew how to keep it in your pants,” I responded.
“Maybe, but I loved her,” he said, shaking his head. “The reason we’re not together right now, is because she didn’t want it. If she had, things would be different.” He ran a hand through his hair, settling himself. “And it certainly doesn’t have anything to do with why she came to me the other day.”
“Then what?” I asked, throwing my hands out at my side. “Why did she come to see you, Justin?”
“She had some legal questions she wanted to ask me,” he said. His voice was calm and slow enough that I knew whatever he was dancing around wasn’t too good.
“What sort of questions?” I asked, my eyes narrowing and my throat tightening. “Was something wrong? Was someone harassing her or something?”
“If she had come to me saying someone was harassing her, then you would know it,” Justin not. “Going to the police is the first step in getting a restraining order.”
He was right, of course. My mind was running so quickly, so frantically, that I hadn’t taken the time to think about any of that, though. All I wanted was this answer, and hopefully the bigger answer it would lead me to, the answer of just where Charlotte was.
“She came to me for something else, something more personal,” Justin said.
“Personal?” I asked, my hands grasping at the back of the chair I was standing in front of and wrapping tightly around it. “What could be more personal than someone harassing her?”
“I think you need to sit down, Dillon,” Justin said, breathing heavy. “This is the ‘you’re going to want to punch me’ part.”