When I stand, I can still feel where the bookshelf hit me. What have I gotten myself into?
chapter 26
We step out of the student entrance.
Charlie’s got his phone out but he seems to be struggling with the password. “Where’s your car?”
“You know there’s no real proven crime yet. She’s only missing—”
“Keep telling yourself that, Junior. Where are we going?”
I point and he moves across the parking lot. Students are still driving in, kicking up gravel as they pull to a stop.
Charlie continues, “Not everyone around the school thinks you’re innocent. Katie was waiting to see Dillon knock you down, so having you lurk around Guthrie High won’t help our cause.”
Charlie cuts toward the nearest yard and goes through the back. Across the lawn is a big patio door, with the curtains open. An animated raccoon is on tv.
I freeze at the gate.
Charlie looks back and sighs. “If we’re going to work together, you’re going to have to quit this bullshit. Grow a pair and let’s move.”
I follow, scooting up behind him. He goes between the garage and fence and I am tight on his heels. A dog barks inside the house and someone yells at it to shut up. We walk down the driveway and onto the street, only a few houses away from my car.
He’s still wrestling with his phone and gets out his wallet.
“Is that why you hate teens with phones? Because you’re technically inept?”
He doesn’t even look at me as he pilfers through the billfold. A second later, he goes back to the phone.
Charlie shakes his head. “What an idiot! His own birthday!” He swipes the screen a few times and hands it over to me. “Ah, see, look at that. The day she disappeared, Sheri got three texts from Dillon.”
I look down at the phone, “What are you talking about?”
“It looks like he’s been trying to rekindle things with your girlfriend. I knew he was a sneaky bastard—”
I stop beside my car.
“What—? Whose—? Is this Dillon’s?” I reach for the phone but Charlie pulls it away.
Charlie smiles. “Yeah, while you provided that great distraction trying to fight him, I grabbed his phone and wallet.”
“What the hell—?”
“I’m guessing he’s already figured out they’re missing, so it won’t be long before he locks it down. Or tracks it on gps,” Charlie scoffs as he continues to scroll through Dillon’s texts. “Looks like Dillon is a busy, busy boy. He got texts to and from ‘the X’—that’d be your girlfriend—but there’s also texts to ‘gf4now.’ Man, this guy’s a piece of work.”
I’m not sure what to do. A part of me wants to know what Dillon and my girlfriend were texting about. Yet it doesn’t feel right, the whole invasion of privacy thing. But most of me is willing to do almost anything to find Sheri.
“Should you be reading those?”
“Who’s ‘Mia-ow’? Sounds interesting,” says Charlie without looking up.
I’m curious to know what he’s reading but it feels like poison. I convince myself that I have to trust him, to trust his process. I need to be objective and focus on the bigger goal of finding Sheri, so I let it go, deciding not to ask questions.
He taps the text stream. “Dirty, dirty Dillon.”
Damn, he’s not making this easy.
“Mia-ow is definitely the tease.
I’m full of all sorts of surprises.
You want to know what? Then you’ll
just have to come and find out yourself.
“Now I know why he calls her Mia-ow!” He holds up the phone. “Whoa, check this out!”
Ugh. It’s sensational and terrible. Charlie’s found a selfie of Dillon smirking in his bathroom mirror, sans shirt, pants pulled down to the low V cut of his obliques. It’s one of those things I can’t unsee.
“I wonder if there are any selfies of Mia-ow.”
“Are you insane?”
“Hey, it’s is all useful information. It’s either Dillon or it’s not.”
“Right? And when he tracks us down with the gps, it’ll be all of us.”
“Aww, quit whining. We’ll toss it long before and he’ll never know. Speaking of which, let me take a couple of photos with your phone for reference later.”
Every move he makes seems to come with such ease. No nerves, just actions. Maybe he’s done this all his life. Maybe he just doesn’t care.
But for me, it’s all new territory.
chapter 27
We jump in my car and drive away from the school.
Charlie immediately opens the glove box. He doesn’t ask, just starts rummaging.
“Dude?”
He doesn’t look over. “What did I say? My name’s not dude.”
He rifles through the registration, flips through the owner’s manual, and pulls out every information pamphlet the car dealership has jammed inside.
“Your dad’s got an oil change coming up.”
He lowers the visor and flips open the mirror a couple of times. The last time he holds his gaze longer than necessary, and the expression of mischief on his face slips away. He slams the mirror on the visor shut and looks around some more.
He goes through the console and checks the slot under the radio, jingling through the spare change. Leaning back in his seat, he tilts the back down, then up again, then down. He sits forward and wipes the dash with the flat of his hand and studies the thin coat of dust on his fingers. I feel defensive and turn on the music to distract us both. Tom Petty sings “You Don’t Know How It Feels.” It’s my dad’s guilty pleasure and I’m embarrassed.
He looks at me.
“What?”
“The music. It’s a classic. Nice!”
I stare at him, waiting for him to reveal the sarcasm beneath his words but he’s already moved on, relaxing in the passenger seat, grinning. He opens the window and hangs his head out just enough to let the wind mess up his already unkempt hair. It’s like I’m taking Ollie out to the country for a run.
“Where exactly should we go? On the trails, I mean? Everyone’s searched there—the cops, her family, friends.”
The window rolls up and he reaches into the side pocket of his baggy cargo pants and pulls out a piece of paper. I glance over as he unfolds it. It’s the running map from Sheri’s locker.
I grab Charlie’s jacket in my fist. “Where the hell did you get that?”
“Pay attention to the road.”
I squeeze my fist tighter.
He leans in. “You are a serious snapcase, man. You need to gear down.”
I let him go and he sits back. “Sheri’s locker. The day you came by the school. Remember? You pussied out and went to the bathroom, so I stepped in and took what was needed before the cops got there.”
I’m dumbfounded. This guy’s either got balls or is seriously stupid.
“You saw me?”
He nods slowly. “And you should thank me because I was able to finish what you never could.”
My lips tighten. I know I should be grateful for this—and I am—but I’m also pissed.
He smiles. “Besides, what’s a freakout gonna get you? Answers? Nope. You asked for my help and here we are.”
Damn, I wish he wasn’t speaking the truth.
“Now, if you can cool your shit long enough for me to explain, I think we can get somewhere. Think you can do that?”
I lean back in my seat and try to shake it off. I’m frustrated with myself and my inability to keep calm. It’s not like me, I’ve always been able to do this. On the court. At parties. But now I’m slipping and Charlie is the only one holding it together. Or he’s the one messing me up. I’m still trying to figure it out.
He holds Sheri’s map between us.
“Looks like Sheri was doing a longer run that day, according to this. We’ll start there and check things out.”
He folds the map and hands it to me and it feels like a peace offering of sorts.
I take it and put it in my pocket.
I drive on and Charlie opens Dillon’s wallet again, leafing through the contents. He pulls out a twenty-dollar bill. “Can we stop for an iced cappuccino?” He waves the money near my face. “Dillon’s buying.”
This guy is too much, but I laugh and find myself turning into the nearest coffee shop. At this point, I figure we both deserve it.
chapter 28
We arrive at the trails and I pull into the parking lot. The place is empty and all signs of the search are gone. The few wire flags have been removed and the litter has been cleared away. It’s like the place has been abandoned for weeks.
It’s unnerving.
I wait while Charlie works away at his beverage.
“Are we just going to sit here?”
He doesn’t answer and peers at the entrance to the trail, past the barricade that keeps motorized vehicles off the footpath. The path runs east-west, and his eyes trace the flat horizon of prairie fields.
I try to figure out what he’s looking at.
“Is this where Sheri parked that day?’
“I don’t know. The car was gone when I showed up—”
“Right. For the search.” He rolls his eyes. “But when you two ran, this is where you parked?”
“I, uh—”
“You ran this trail before, right?”
“Yeah.”
“With Sheri?”
“Uh, no.”
“You’ve never gone running with your girlfriend?”
“I have, just not this trail.”
He looks at me, shaking his head. “You are so weird.” He looks back out at the path. “Have you done the whole loop?”
“Yes.”
“It’s good, huh?”
I look at him, trying to understand his meaning. Charlie Wolfe seems like the furthest thing from a person who would go for a fun run out here.
“What? You think running is for rich people?”
“I’m not—”
“Don’t. Let’s not even start that game.”
I stop trying to defend myself. “Why do you run?” I ask.
“To know.”
“To know what?”
“To know what’s out there. To know where I live. To know that I can outrun someone if I need to. Why did you run out here?”
I hear all of it in my head. To see if I was better than others. To keep my body fit. To prove something to myself.
“’Cuz.”
His eyes are on me and I feel the sting of judgment, but I’m not sure if it’s his or my own.
He slurps at the bottom of his drink until the last of it rattles up his straw.
“Do you have a napkin?”
I’m not sure why he asks—he hasn’t made a mess. I shrug and look through the console and hand him one. He pulls out the straw, taps it on the side of the cup, then jams it in his mouth.
“All right, then. Let’s get to work.”
chapter 29
He climbs out of the car and walks over to the garbage can at the head of the trail. It’s empty and has likely been searched and cleaned for clues by Gekas and her team. Charlie wipes the sides of his plastic cup with the napkin before dropping it in.
I follow him, locking the car behind me. It’s a beautiful day, but the prairie wind pushes against us a bit. He looks out at the trail, the drink straw hanging out of his mouth as he flicks it up and down. The wind keeps tossing his messy hair into his eyes, so he raises his sunglasses to keep it out of his face.
He looks back at me, his hand out. “Map?”
I reach into my pocket and pull it out. I hadn’t noticed the condition it was in until now, folded and wrinkled—not from Sheri, but from Charlie. It’s one of the few things I have left of her, so I open it carefully. I catch Charlie watching me before he takes a step closer to look at it.
He digs in his pocket and pulls out another piece of paper. It’s the calendar that was stuck underneath it.
I look at him. “Really?”
“When are the things I do going to quit surprising you?” He points at the date she disappeared. “She went for a long one that day. So that means…” he traces his finger along the map before continuing, “it means that we have a run ahead of us.”
Before I know it, he’s trotting down the path at a slow pace. I take off after him, following a step behind. He speeds up. I’m pretty sure he’s doing it to challenge me but I keep up easily. After a while, he eases back beside me, pulling the half-chewed straw out of his mouth.
“Ah, look at that. We ran this trail together. Something even you didn’t do with her.”
“Are you just naturally a dick or does it take practice?”
“At last!”
“What?”
“You quit whining and had a bit of backbone there for a second.”
“Screw off!”
“Excellent. You might be useful to me yet. But let’s not overdo it.”
He falls back into silence, looking left and right along the trails, and all I can do is shake my head. This guy enjoys pushing my buttons and although I know it’s intentional, I can’t figure out what his reason is.
He twists himself around and continues running in a sort of backwards shuffle, looking at where we’ve come from. I glance over my shoulder, trying to figure out what he’s looking at.
He turns back around, sinking the straw back between his teeth. “A little bit farther.”
He picks up his pace and I have to sprint again to catch up. I’m barely feeling it and know I’ve got energy to spare, but I can hear him trying to regulate his breath. After we run around a small hill and a bend, Charlie spins backwards again.
“Almost… almost… and there.” He stops.
I turn, trying to find out what he’s looking at.
“I don’t… see it.”
He pulls out the straw and points with it out past the hill.
Then I realize. The car is no longer in sight.
“Do you think…?” I don’t finish.
Charlie pulls out a cell phone and takes a photo.
I can’t figure out who he stole that one from.
“Whose is that?”
“It’s mine.”
“You have a cell phone?”
“Yeah. What’d you think? I’m Amish?”
“No.” Just that you look like you can’t afford one.
I catch him glaring at me. I hope mind-reading isn’t one of his many mysterious skills.
chapter 30
“Everything after this point is fair game.”
I stare at him, trying to catch his meaning.
“The hill provides cover. There’s plenty of trees, shrubs, and low spots—all good places to hide. Another kilometre and the path crosses the end of a grid road.” He indicates a spot ahead where we can see the glint of a truck travelling half a mile away. “Easy to avoid being seen by anyone in a vehicle, even if someone was looking.”
“But the search parties covered this area.”
“And they found nothing. Because…?”
At first, I wait for him to finish his thought, but when he leaves it for too long, I start to speak, “Because—”
He interrupts me, “Because it isn’t the right place.”
“What does that mean?”
“Whatever—no—whoever happened to Sheri chose somewhere…”
He trails off again. This time I wait, but he doesn’t finish his thought and continues walking down the trail. We carry on in silence until we hit the end of the grid road where it stops at the creek.
“Did they search the entire trail?”
“Not on the day I went out.”
“You didn’t go the entire weekend?”
“No—”
“Why not?”
“There were… problems.”
“What? You forgot your baby blanket to keep you warm?”
“No—!”
“Then what?”
“I—”
“What?”
“Forget it.”
“No, don’t. Don’t forget it.” He’s in my face, fired up, and all of it’s making me feel intimidated. “Don’t forget. Don’t forget her. Don’t forget how all of this makes you feel. She’s your girlfriend. We are the people going out of our way to make sure she doesn’t just become—” He looks out past me, out past the horizon, searching. And then he’s back. “Just don’t. Let’s keep looking. Okay?”
I know he’s intense. I know he cares. Because he’s here. And there are layers to him. I’m freaked that he’s given me shit like someone who’s lost something, but he’s also lit a fire in me and I’m primed. I promise myself I won’t stop until we catch whoever did this.
We jog past the grid road. Charlie asks for the map and I hand it to him. When I feel the paper slip from my fingers to his, I realize I’m letting go of this small piece of Sheri, but it’s too late to grab it back without seeming crazy.
He looks at it, turning it around. It flaps in the breeze. He folds it and hands it back.
“This second half is the longer part of the loop. Four miles. There are two farms at each end,” he points first to the east, then to the southeast, “but still plenty of cover to do something discreetly.”
There’s a small makeshift footbridge that’s been assembled out of 2x4s and wood planks. He crosses to the south side of the creek and walks slow, scanning the landscape, tilting his head, studying the ground. I don’t know what he’s looking for, what hint he expects to come across. We wind along the creek, a play structure coming into view in the distance.
Even though the breeze keeps me cool, the sun is shining and my mouth is dry.
“You guys got along well.” It’s a statement, not a question.
Along Comes a Wolfe Page 8