by David Gane
“How long have you been there?” I ask.
“Not too long,” Mom answers.
“You two are weirdos,” Charlie says, but his tone is affectionate. “How was the walk?”
Mom ignores the question. “Charlie, come with us please.”
He looks at me, but I have no clue either. We pause the game and I follow the three of them into his room.
On his bed is a large wrapped gift. “We got you something. Consider it a housewarming gift.”
Charlie pulls off the bow and paper to find a large framed Pink Floyd tour poster from the ’70s. It’s signed by the whole band.
“It comes at a price,” Mom says before Charlie can speak. “It’s time to unpack. This is your room. You chose to be here. If you’re serious about staying, then you should begin acting like it. Put things in drawers. Maybe leave a book out on the dresser. Keep it clean, but start living here.”
Charlie looks at me and I give him the smallest shrug. He sets the gift on his desk, leaning it against the wall. He steps back and studies it.
“Ben and I went to their Division Bell concert in Winnipeg in 1994,” Mom says, continuing in her kind, persistent way. “It’s our way of saying welcome home.”
Charlie surprises all of us when he wraps Mom in a hug, brief but warm. He turns to Dad and gives him a hug as well, albeit an even shorter one. Dad gives him one solid pat on the back before Charlie quickly steps back.
“Thank you,” he says.
chapter 56
We leave Charlie in his room and go downstairs to turn on a brainless Netflix movie. Dad’s struggling to stay awake within the first ten minutes.
“You’re too hard on the poor man,” I joke to Mom. “You’ve tuckered him out.” But she doesn’t pick up the banter. I can see in her eyes that she’s got something on her mind.
“What?” I ask, coming off ruder than I intended.
“You two are behaving yourselves, right?”
Damn.
I hate it when she calls me out on this stuff. It always puts me in a corner, and either I’m honest and get yelled at, or I lie to her face and my conscience makes me feel like crap.
“I think so,” I say, trying to bend my answer around the truth.
“You’re not looking for trouble?”
“Nope, not this time.” I really don’t think we are actually trying to find any, and if any happens to show up, we’re dumping it on Gekas.
She takes a minute to decide whether or not I’m lying, and I turn back to the movie. Sometimes it’s best to keep my mouth shut and not dig myself a deeper hole.
She’s quiet for a bit and I think she’s done with me when she mentions off-handedly, “Barb and Irene want you to go by after school tomorrow and check on the Rogers’ house.”
I know what she’s up to.
She’s telling me, Go do your part-time job so you don’t have time to do something you shouldn’t.
“Sounds good,” I respond.
And that’s my way of saying, Sure, because I’ve got absolutely nothing to hide, except the fact that Charlie and I are snooping around the dump sites of an active serial killer.
Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure Mom’s certain she knows exactly what I’m saying as well. And she’s likely not too far from the truth.
chapter 57
After the movie, I grab a glass of carbonated grapefruit juice and head back upstairs, pausing at Charlie’s room.
He’s unpacked his box. I guess he finally feels this is the real deal, and I’m glad. He’s on his bed, listening to his headphones, and I think he’s fallen asleep until he opens his eyes.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” I say, going in. I set my drink down on his desk and take a seat.
He’s glaring at me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“What are you? A hillbilly?” He tosses me a coaster from his nightstand.
“Sorry,” I say, laughing. I use the sleeve of my shirt to wipe the wet ring left by my glass then slide the coaster underneath it.
He stares at me. “Want to talk about the wallet?”
“Really?”
“Hey, fair’s fair. You were winning before your folks interrupted.”
“All right,” I say, jumping up to grab it from my room. I open it up as I walk back across the hall, studying the three different cards inside. “Doesn’t give us much direction.”
“And Donny’s gang probably contaminated the hell out of it.”
“So not much chance Gekas could find fingerprints or DNA.”
“Nope, not really. But I don’t think it’s a complete dead end.”
“Me neither. I’d say the flower shop card is useless, though. I mean, how many people order flowers?”
“And the coffee punchcard? That’s even tougher. It’s local but also a franchise, so who even knows which one it’s from. Another needle in a haystack.”
Then it dawns on me. “Wait, that library card—” I pull out my phone.
“What’s up?” he asks.
“You’re not the only one with connections.”
“Oh?”
“I have a friend at school, Elaina, who works at the central library.” I grab the library card and tap out a text:
Hey. Favour?
Can you check this library card number?
Found a wallet
Thx
I get Charlie’s approval before sending it.
“The thing about being a do-gooder,” I say, “is that everyone assumes you’re not up to anything. Elaina will think I want to return the wallet to John Doe and be happy to help me out.”
“Wait, are you telling me we’re playing good cop/bad cop?”
I laugh. “Have we ever been anything else?”
chapter 58
The next morning, I wake to find a text from Elaina, asking to meet before class. We set off for school a little earlier than normal, and once we’ve dropped our bags at our lockers, we head to the common area.
The space is small but so crammed full of kids that I can’t immediately see any sign of her.
Charlie doesn’t wait, opting to stroll over to the vending machines that line a wall. He had a good breakfast at home—Dad made him a plate of maque choux leftovers on a bed of spinach with a couple of eggs on top—but he still stops to purchase some gross processed sugary treat.
I continue the search and finally spot Elaina across the room—or rather I see her tousled, wavy boy cut sprouting above the book she’s got her face buried in.
She’s kind and self-assured—not one of your cliché pretty girls—and doesn’t try too hard to meet anyone’s ideal. Her bag’s on the table in front of her, her feet are up on it, and she’s munching what I first think is a muffin, but then realize is actually a cupcake with a thick layer of frosting on top.
Charlie’s beside me, holding his post-breakfast chocolate bar. “Go on. I’d like to eat this baby in peace.”
“Here’s hoping that one day my parents will wean you off your bad food habits.”
He shrugs, unwraps his snack and chomps down. “Mmm …
nougaty goodness.”
I shake my head and join Elaina.
She doesn’t look up right away, so I ask, “What’re you reading?”
“Thomas King,” she says, trying to finish the last few sentences of the chapter she’s working on. “It’s for Advanced English. So much reading. But seriously, if I had known about him sooner, I probably would’ve read him anyway.”
I have no clue who he is, but it doesn’t matter.
When she finally looks up, she gestures to the seat across from her. “Take a load off.”
I sit. “Thanks for doing this, Elaina.”
“No problem.”
Elaina reaches into her bag
and pulls out a folded piece of paper. “I printed off the user information of the library card number you gave me. Don’t tell anyone—you owe me.”
“No problem,” I say, tucking it into my pocket. I want to look at it, but now is not the time.
“Can I ask if it’s for one of your cases?”
My cases? Ugh! I really don’t want to answer that.
“Don’t worry,” she adds. “No need to bullshit me, Tony. Your secret’s safe with me.”
I nod. “Thanks.”
“Is that your friend Charlie?” She points toward the vending machines where he’s chewing on his chocolate bar and staring at members of the swim team.
How is it he can be completely cool in the most dangerous places with the most marginal people, but drop him in a regular school with regular kids and he sticks out like a stain on your new jeans.
“Yeah, sorry. He can be a little weird.”
“No worries.” She keeps studying him. “He’s not the usual type of guy you see around here.”
“Yeah, he’s … different.
“Kind of cute, though.”
“Excuse me?”
She ignores my question and continues, “If you need anything else, don’t sweat it.”
It’s nice of her to offer, but I don’t ever want to drag anyone else into our troubles.
I thank her again and head back to Charlie, who’s finished his chocolate bar and is just standing there awkwardly, hands in his pockets.
“They’re up to something,” he says, indicating the nearby group of students.
“The swim team?”
“I’m thinking anabolics.”
“You sound like a crazy old man.”
“Hey, you’re the one who asked me to help.”
“There’s no in between with you?”
“Nope. Either I trust everyone or no one.” He nods toward Elaina. “What’s the deal with her?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why’s she really helping?”
“I told you.”
“Pfft. No, really, why?”
“Because she’s a good person.”
“That’s it? Seriously, what’s her angle?”
“She doesn’t have an angle. She likes me and wants to help.”
“Wait. She likes you?”
“Oh, good grief. Not like that.” He’s tried in the past to convince me to ask girls out and I don’t need him up my ass about this. “Can we get off Elaina and focus on what she gave me?”
“Right.”
I dig out the paper and hand it to Charlie. He unfolds it and reveals the name, address, and phone number of our mystery man from the park.
Charlie scoffs. “Theodore Thompson? That’s a fake name if I ever heard one. And that 912 at the front of the address? Got to be a condo or apartment.”
Without hesitation, he pulls out his phone and dials the number on the slip. He hits the speaker so I can hear too.
Somehow I’m not even fazed that we’re standing in a crowded school calling a potential serial killer; I’m too amped up by how close we may be to answers.
“This number is out of service …,” says an auto-recorded voice.
“Surprise, surprise,” says Charlie and swipes his phone off. “Well, Shepherd, looks like Teddy’s address is calling our name.”
“I can’t. Barb and Irene want me to check a house out.”
“The ladies from your parents’ party? Fine. We’ll visit our suspect’s place, then I’ll come help you with your job.”
As he hands back the paper, I feel the excitement building. I’m not sure if it’s good or bad—but it’s there and it’s loud.
chapter 59
When the bell sounds at the end of the day, I step out of Mr. Hall’s biology class and Charlie’s waiting. We’re ready to go—until we see Mike bounding toward us like a happy-go-lucky Labrador retriever.
What terrible timing.
“Hey, guys!”
“Hey, Mike.”
“Need your help.”
“With what?”
“There’s a girl—”
I shake my head. “Isn’t there’s always, Mike?”
His smile is huge. “I know, right?”
“What happened with Carrie?” Charlie asks.
“Who?”
“The girl I set you up with yesterday?”
Mike actually pauses, trying to remember. “Oh shit! Yeah, Carrie. Right.” He doesn’t answer, though, and Charlie has to gesture for him to keep talking. “We-e-ell, she and I never really worked out.”
“Really? Why not?”
He half shrugs. “We just didn’t gel. But see, this other girl—”
Charlie cuts him off sharply. “Nope. Can’t help you with that.”
“Aw, come on, Chuck!” Mike says playfully, and I wince.
But Charlie just takes the nickname in stride. “No way, Mikey!” he says sarcastically, but Mike doesn’t seem to register it. “I delivered you a date, and if you couldn’t seal the deal …”
“Hey, I didn’t—!”
Charlie raises an eyebrow, and Mike backpedals, trying to defend himself. “Look, I tried but—” He sighs. “Fine. But can’t you guys just help me?” He points at me. “You! You’re Mr. Charm. Girls just flock to you, and I need some of that.”
“Like the man said, Mike,” I say, indicating Charlie, “I just can’t do it.”
“Why not?” We’re in the parking lot now and he clues in. “Wait, are you guys doing your thing? Are you chasing—? Whoa, shit! Are you after that serial killer ?”
“N-no …,” I stammer. Every time I hear people talk about us this way, it makes me cringe.
“Let me come—”
“No!”
“Come on. I can be your muscle.”
“Mike, you don’t want to be part of this.”
“Why not? You don’t think I can hang?”
“It’s not that.”
“Why?” He points at Charlie. “You think he’s going to watch your ass better than your best friend?”
“No, it’s not like that—”
Charlie turns on him quickly, blocking his path. “Mike, you’re not coming with us.”
Mike’s a little shocked.
I think I am too.
Mike stiffens. “Yeah? And why not?”
“Because you weren’t invited.”
Damn, Charlie, you’re stone-cold.
Mike looks pissed, and I step between them in case he decides to throw a punch.
“Let it go.”
“Wait? Are you siding with him?”
I stammer out another no, but I can see he’s already hurt.
“It’s not like that at all,” I say, taking him by the shoulder, trying to turn him away from Charlie, but he shrugs it off.
I’m kind of worried he’s going to start swinging at me soon, so I add, “Let’s plan something another day, all right? How about tomorrow? We’ll play some pick-up. Just me and you. Just not this, please. I need to do this without you.”
I’m not sure he’s going to let it slide until his face softens and he surrenders.
“I don’t like you messing in this stuff, brother. If you can’t take me along, you know you shouldn’t be part of it,” he says.
I nod. “I know. It’s just— Look. We’re doing this for a friend.”
He looks at Charlie, then back to me. “I trust you, and I trust your judgment—” he eyes Charlie and adds, “but you need to be careful.”
“Hey, I’m all about being careful,” I say.
“But you—” he turns on Charlie, “if you mess with him, then you mess with me.”
Charlie offers his hand. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Mike shake
s it, but I can tell he’s not feeling the love.
I offer him a big bro hug and he pulls me in for a solid back pat.
“I’ll be okay. Relax,” I tell him.
“I will when you’re no longer involved in this crap,” he says as he releases me.
I know he’s still not happy, but he’s doing his best not to show it.
He stalks away and jumps in his truck, peeling out and kicking up gravel as he goes.
“He’s going to be pissed at you for a while,” I say.
Charlie nods. “That’s all right. I don’t mind playing the bad guy.” He walks to the car, waiting for me to let him in. “Besides, we don’t need him getting mixed up with a couple of hoodlums like us.”
“Stop saying that.”
“He’s being a solid friend, Tony. Be happy about that. Now, let’s go and look through some people’s homes.”
I sigh, popping the locks. “You really have pulled me to the dark side, haven’t you?”
chapter 60
We drive downtown, parking a few of blocks away from Theodore Thompson’s address so no one sees Dad’s car. The less we’re connected to this place, the better. I pull onto a side street under a tree and plug the meter.
“Do we have a plan?”
“Do we need one?” Charlie chuckles. He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a couple of ball caps.
“What’re they for?”
He pulls one on. “Well, if we end up at a crime scene and have to send Gekas in, we should at least have the courtesy to reduce the obviousness of our presence.”
“What? Cover our faces from any surveillance, you mean?”
“That and deal with any stray hairs,” he says, stuffing his shaggy mop into the hat.
“What? No hairnets?” I joke.
“Nah, too conspicuous. We’ll keep them for when we get inside,” he says, grinning.
We go to the front door, walking up like we belong here—one of the many lessons Charlie has taught me over the last eighteen months. The condo’s front yard is well-groomed and clean—I’m guessing this isn’t a cheap place to live. A camera peers down at us from a corner, so we keep our faces low and hidden beneath our hats. I can’t see a front desk or a security guard through the windows, and while that’s good for keeping a low profile, I’m not sure how we’re getting in. The door has no intercom and only a keypad for a lock.