Chapter 9
Charity
You’ve Got A Friend – Carole King
The fluorescent lights of Sundance County Police Department made everything look sickly green as I pushed through the doors alone. The place smelled of burned coffee and industrial disinfectant, with the cold air raising goosebumps on my arms.
A woman sat in one of the orange plastic chairs with a young girl, while across the room, a man with what looked like blood on his shirt, paced back and forth. My stomach lurched wondering what kind of situation Faith had gotten herself into this time.
“Can I help you?” The desk officer looked up from her paperwork.
“I’m here about Faith Dawson. She was arrested earlier.”
“Take a seat,” she told me. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
I perched on the edge of one of the plastic chairs, my hands twisted together in my lap. God only knew what she'd done. All we did know was that she'd been arrested. Mom and Dad wouldn't be able to handle this stress, not with Mom's condition the way it was.
The waiting area felt like it was closing in around me.
Every few seconds, someone would walk through, a police officer, a lawyer—someone who looked like they belonged here.
I didn't. I had no idea what I was supposed to do, who I was supposed to talk to, or how any of this worked. It had been ten minutes, and I still didn’t know what happened.
My phone buzzed with a text from Dad: Any news yet?
I stared at it, my throat tight. What was I supposed to tell him? That I had no clue why his youngest daughter was in jail, and I was sitting here completely out of my depth? That I didn't even know the right questions to ask?
The doors behind me opened, and I turned automatically, hoping it was someone who could help. My heart skipped as I saw Liam walking toward me, his expression unreadable.
“Liam? What are you doing here?”
He looked almost as surprised to see himself there as I was. “I figured you might need backup. You looked upset when you left.” His voice was gruffer than usual. “And me and the sheriff are friends. I thought it might help.”
Relief flooded through me so fast, it left me dizzy. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“Yeah, well.” He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. “Let’s just get this sorted.”
He moved to the front desk. “Can I speak to Sheriff Harley? Tell him it’s Liam Brown.” As the desk officer picked up her phone, Liam turned to me. “Just tell me if I’m stepping on any toes.”
I shook my head. “It’s fine. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. Joe will be able to give you any information you need.”
“Thank you... again.” My stomach lurched like I was in a plummeting elevator. What information might Joe tell me? Where my sister was involved, it could be anything.
“You want a coffee?” Liam asked, nodding to a vending machine.
Any warmth I felt at his act of kindness was quickly replaced by unease when I noticed a crimson red handprint on the front of the machine. “No, I’m good, thanks.”
“It’s not bad coffee. I’m going to have one.”
Biting the skin around my thumb, I shook my head. The little girl started to whimper, her mom hissing at her to keep quiet.
“Maybe the little girl might like a hot chocolate,” I suggested in a whisper.
Liam’s green eyes crinkled at the corners as he stared at me. “We’re here to get your sister out, not make friends with little kids, Charity.”
With a shake of his head, he pulled some coins from his pocket and wandered over to get himself some coffee. I had no idea what to do. I’d never been inside a police station before. Which was a minor miracle considering Faith.
“Let’s sit here.” Liam’s voice was strained as he pointed to a couple of seats at the opposite end of the room to the woman and her child. The chairs faced a wall with a huge board full of flyers and notices. “How old is your sister? Not sure I remember her from high school.”
“No, you won’t,” I told him, sitting next to him.
“She’s six years younger than me, so we had both graduated by the time she started high school.
” I bit down on my bottom lip, to stop me from saying anything else.
After all, she was still my sister, and I wanted Liam to take away a decent first impression.
Faith wasn’t exactly charm personified, but it would be nice if she could be half decent to him.
Liam had taken time out of his evening to come and help me— to help her.
“You have no idea why she’s been arrested? What she could have done?”
“None. To be truthful, we don’t really talk much.” A heat of shame crept up my neck and spread to my cheeks. “Busy lives you know.”
“I guess so.”
We sat in silence until Sheriff Harley appeared. He gave Liam a bright smile, his brown eyes shining with amusement. He moved with the confident authority of someone used to being in charge.
“Hey, buddy. What are you doing here? You pulling out of pool night?”
Liam stood and gave his friend a fist bump. “No, still good for Friday.” He turned to me. “This is Charity, you have her sister Faith in custody.”
I didn’t miss the raised eyebrow of the sheriff as he ran a hand over his close cropped blond hair.
“Liam and I were in a meeting when I got the call.” I felt like I needed to explain.
His investigative gaze assessed Liam’s gray sweats and my old jeans, and he smirked. “A meeting, right.” He glanced at his friend. “You want to come through to my office? We can talk there.”
When I stood, I expected Liam to remain in his seat, but it appeared he was coming with us. Sheriff Harley led us through the bullpen, past curious officers. One female officer gave Liam a double take.
“Marcy,” he acknowledged, his tone low as he barely glanced at her.
Sheriff Harley chuckled. Something twisted in my stomach at the familiarity in that exchange, though I couldn't pinpoint why. Instead, I focused on why we were there.
“Come in and sit down.” The sheriff moved to his desk and closed a folder shifting it to one side before sitting. “Right, let’s talk about Faith. You don’t mind Liam being here?”
It hadn’t occurred to me, other than not wanting anyone to think badly of my sister, but for him to be front and center of her latest issue was a different matter.
“No, not at all.” It wasn’t exactly true, but how could I ask for him to leave when he’d been good enough to come with me? Plus, there was a comfort in knowing I wasn’t alone to deal with this.
The sheriff’s smile was sympathetic, like he knew I’d danced this dance before. It just hadn’t been this serious.
“Okay, well she was evicted over a month ago, but refused to leave. Her landlord called in someone to help remove her and it got a little tense, shall we say. We were called in and…” He winced. “She hit one of my officers around the back of the head with her purse.”
I didn’t miss the snort that turned into a cough from Liam.
“Anyone I know?” he asked.
The sheriff ignored his question and pointedly looked at me.
“The property owner didn’t follow the correct procedure for getting your sister out.
As for the assault. Another one of my officers caught the incident on their bodycam and it was clearly an accident.
We won’t be charging your sister with assault on an officer. ”
“So why is she still here?” Liam leaned forward and placed his takeaway coffee mug on the desk.
“That’s because she has nowhere to go. Her landlord had the locks changed and he dumped all her stuff on the sidewalk.”
“He what? He can’t do that,” I protested, my heart thudding an erratic beat. “Can he?”
“Doubt it,” Liam scoffed. “Not if he didn’t follow the correct legal eviction process.”
The sheriff raised a brow, looking a lot like a silent confirmation.
“Where is it all now?” I asked, as my chest clenched thinking about how it was going to add more stress to my mom and dad. “Is it still on the sidewalk?”
The sheriff cleared his throat and nodded to the corner. I turned in my seat to look. When I saw everything she seemingly owned, it felt like someone had hold of my heart and was squeezing it like a wet rag. “That’s it?” I croaked out.
As I stared at a couple of boxes, a large backpack and an ugly orange lamp with a green shade, Liam’s hand momentarily touched my back, warm and steady, but was gone as quickly as it had landed. “Hey. I’ve got you.”
The simple words grounded me, reminding me I wasn’t facing this alone.
“We’re okay to get her out of here, right, Joe?” Liam rubbed his palms along his thighs. “Faith and her stuff.”
Without saying anything, Sheriff Harley picked up his phone and arranged for me to take my sister and her boxes of belongings.
As I waited for her, I could feel it in my bones that there was so much more to come.
Liam meeting Faith was exactly as mortifying as I expected.
“He’s new.” Faith looked Liam up and down, appraising him in the way she did everyone, with her nose in the air. “Liam Brown, the man who finds dead bodies in the middle of his work site.”
“Wow, news travels fast.” Liam picked up Faith’s backpack and turned to me. “I’ll come back for the other stuff.”
“You don’t need to bother.” My sister tried to pull the backpack from his hand. “I don’t need you or my sister’s help.”
“Faith,” I snapped. “Do you have to be so rude? Liam took time out of his evening to help you tonight. To support me.” My lungs pulled tight, like I’d inhaled something sharp.
“Didn’t ask him to. Think he’s got enough problems of his own.” She made another attempt to grab her bag, but Liam held on. “Just give me my bag, asshole.”
He took a step back, taking the bag out of her reach. His nostrils flared as a vein in his neck started to pulse. “Hey, just calm down.”
“Who are you, the feds?”
“I’m being a friend. Your sister deserves someone in her corner tonight.”
Friend? Not what I would have called us, at least not out loud. But the steadiness of him beside me, him wanting to be a support, did something traitorous in my chest.
“I know you don’t think this is any of my business, and that’s fine by me,” he continued. “You may not want my help, but your sister’s worried sick. So damn well start cooperating. Now talk to Charity and I’ll be back for the rest of your stuff.”
He didn’t wait for her to respond but stormed through the door to the parking lot.
“Fucker,” Faith muttered. “Sticking his nose into my business.”
“Faith, for God’s sake,” I cried. “Just once, will you think about what you’re doing and saying. And for once will you show people some respect.”
She sneered at me, giving a hollow laugh. “Like Mom and Dad do me. Like they care about me, their damn replacement child.”
“That’s not true and you know it isn’t.” The desk officer cleared her throat. “Come on outside, now,” I demanded, grabbing her arm and pulling her with me.
As we got through the door I was finally able to take a breath as the cloying air inside was replaced with the smell of pine and damp earth on the fresh mountain breeze. I pulled the purity of it into my lungs, and dragged my sister in front of me.
“We can’t keep going on this damn merry-go-round, Faith. You have to stop thinking Mom and Dad had you to replace Hope. That just isn’t true. They had you because they wanted you, for you.”
She shook her head, her eyes devoid of emotion.
It was the same argument she'd been making for years.
Faith had convinced herself she was a replacement for Hope, our sister who died when she was three.
Nothing any of us said could change Faith's mind about that.
Exhaling on a count of ten, I loosened my grip on her arm.
“Please, Faith, just let me help you. Come and stay with me.”
She shook her head. “No way.”
“Well, where are you going to go? Walk the streets. Check into the Maple Hotel?”
“Very funny, Charity.” She thrust her hands on her hips, and I noticed how grubby her fingernails were. How stained her jacket was and how dirty her hair looked. “I’ll find somewhere.”
Liam appeared with the box and lamp, setting them down carefully. He looked between Faith and me, taking in her defensive posture and my obvious distress.
“You can’t. You have to come with me,” I protested.
“I’ve told you no!”
“But where will you go?” My voice cracked with the frustration that was flowing through every vein and nerve in my body. “You have nowhere to go.”
“Yes she does.” Liam cut in, arms crossed over his chest.
“What?”
“I know somewhere she can go.” He looked directly at Faith. “I'll help you. But if I hear you disrespect your sister again, we're going to have a problem.”
Faith stared him down, her fingers flexing, those deep blue eyes of hers scrutinizing as she weighed up her options.
“Fine,” she finally ground out. “But don’t you dare tell Mom and Dad where I am.” She stormed past me, knocking my shoulder, striding to Liam’s truck without a backward glance.
“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered, watching her haul herself into the back seat.
“Don’t worry about it.” He almost smiled. “Like I said, we’re friends and friends help each other out.”
Friends. Right. So why did that word feel both too much and not nearly enough?