Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“What the fuck is going on?” I roared into the phone, pacing back and forth in Bobby’s front yard.
Police were crawling all over the place, loading giant totes filled with God knows what from Bobby’s house into the back of those same unmarked vans from earlier.
“Calm down, and I’ll explain,” Tate shouted back.
I took a deep breath and shook my head. “It’s not him. It’s not,” I said, my voice catching. “Whatever you think you have, you’re wrong.”
I looked over at Bobby, currently having his own frantic phone call. Hopefully with a lawyer. He had one arm around Jade’s shoulders while she bounced Molly on her hip. She’d rushed home after he’d called and told her what happened.
“He’s not under arrest yet,” Tate said warily. “But there was enough for the search warrants.”
“My friend is not a murderer,” I hissed.
A few of the evidence technicians glanced over at me, faces hidden behind their goggles and masks.
“Reece…” Tate sighed.
He couldn’t be. Bobby was kind and gentle and stopped to help turtles cross the road. He’d cried when he accidentally stepped on a snail when we were seven.
He’d cried the day he married Jade, too, and again when Molly was born. He’d held her so gently, so tenderly, like all of a sudden the whole world rested in the palm of his hand, and he couldn’t do anything but stare at her in awe.
Bobby was there for me on my lowest fucking days, when the Thing squatting on my shoulders told me I didn’t deserve his friendship anymore because I could never be a good enough friend in return.
It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him.
“What about tonight? Why couldn’t you have waited, huh? What if Charlie remembers something important? Something that could change everything?”
“I still want to hear what Charlie remembers, but that was thirty-nine years ago. He may not be able to remember anything at all, and I couldn’t keep ignoring the evidence we have for the most recent murders.”
“What evidence?”
“You’re not the only one who’s seen his truck in the area. Janine logged it, too. She also logged a camo-colored ATV driving on restricted park trails near her tower the day before she disappeared.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Well, that’s… I mean, that doesn’t mean anything, though. Just because he was nearby—”
“The ATV is new, Reece,” he said, frustrated.
“There’s no evidence of transportation in the first six murders.
The FBI profilers say the first guy wouldn’t change how he kills—he liked it too much.
Everything points to it being a different suspect.
I know you don’t want this to be your friend.
I know you want to make it right for Charlie.
And maybe he will have something important to say, maybe not.
But I can’t tip the scales of justice for you in the meantime. ”
“You’re an asshole, Tate. A real fucking asshole.”
His voice hardened. “I’m trying to do my goddamn job and hold the right people accountable. You can’t have it both ways. You can’t defend a past injustice and hate me for pursuing the person who should be held responsible in the same breath.”
“Bobby isn’t the one responsible!”
Tate sighed. “I’m not going to argue with you anymore. Wait for my call, okay? I’ve gotta go.”
He hung up, leaving me ready to throttle someone.
Fuck him, and fuck his justice. Too many people I loved had been hurt by it.
I turned just in time to see that Leonard and Joan had arrived.
“Reece,” Bobby said when I walked over. Frazzled, his attention snagged on every box carted out of his house. “We’ve gotta go meet with the lawyer. Are you good to drive home?”
“Yeah, of course. Is there anything you need? Anything I can do for you?”
He shook his head. “No. Mom’s going to take the baby for the night. I can’t think of anything else right now, but I’ll let you know if I do.”
“Sure. Okay. Whatever you need.” I turned to Leonard. “I’m not sure when I can get back out to the lookout, maybe a couple of days? I want to be here in case I can help.”
He patted me on the shoulder. “No problem at all. Just let me know when you need a ride back out. Hopefully, this is all over by then.”
Before I could go, Bobby grabbed my arm, eyes pleading. “I didn’t do this, Reece. Please believe me.”
I searched for a killer in his eyes, but all I found was my friend. “I know. I believe you.”
At least, I wanted to.
Lost in thought and exhausted, it was easy to ignore the eyes I felt following my every move when I stopped off at the drug store on the way back to Dad’s.
I wasn’t sure whether news of Bobby’s house being searched had already spread, or if I just looked rough enough to earn Ponderosa’s suspicious gaze.
Light blue shirts dotted in with the pink ones now, and another poster, not as weather-worn and crinkled, joined the others all over town. I wished I’d been able to know Janine more in life, and not the version of her that was reduced to a handful of facts.
It was dusk when I arrived back at Dad’s cabin, and I plodded through the door, chucked my keys on the coffee table, and crashed onto the sofa, dropping my head in my hands.
This can’t be real. This can’t be happening.
My migraine had fully kicked in, so once I was able to stand, I washed down my usual cocktail of drugs with a glass of water and went searching for an ice pack in the freezer.
“Hey, I remember that truck.”
I slammed the freezer door shut and spun around. Charlie stood in the living room, staring at a photo hung on the wall.
“Charlie.” All at once, my fight and rage fled. Here, alone with him, I didn’t need it anymore.
His gaze immediately found mine. “What’s wrong?”
I strode over, wrapped my arms around him, and buried my face in his hair.
“Hey, it’s alright,” he cooed, rubbing my back. “I’m here. What happened?”
I took a deep breath. “I saw Bobby’s truck yesterday, hauling an ATV not far from where we found the body,” I began, the words tumbling out.
“But when I went over to talk to him this afternoon, he denied it. And now the FBI is searching his house. He knew, Charlie. He knew about you. He asked why I didn’t tell him I had someone staying with me at the lookout.
How? How did he know? There has to be an explanation.
He’s my best friend. My only friend, until you. What if—what if he—”
I cut myself off, unable to even finish the thought.
Charlie’s fingers bunched in my shirt, tucking my head beneath his chin. “Shh, it’s going to be okay. I’m sure there’s an explanation.”
“But… He knew.”
Charlie pulled back and looked me in the eye. “You know your friend. Don’t give up on that. I don’t know how he knew, but I’m sure you can find out. Should we go talk to him?”
I shook my head. “We can’t,” I said, voice breaking. “He’s meeting with a lawyer, and Tate is going to call soon. He wants us to meet with his grandmother tonight.”
Grief flashed across Charlie’s face, and I realized just how much we’d both hoped to spend a few more precious nights together.
Just in case.
No. No, I wouldn’t lose him. I’d do anything to keep him with me, and she would have answers for us. She would help.
I’d make her help before Charlie told them anything useful.
“Oh,” he said. “I thought—tonight? Already?”
I took his hand. “Tate said if there’s something you can remember from the previous murders, he needs to know as soon as possible. They could arrest Bobby at any time.”
Charlie cleared his throat. “Of course. I don’t want Bobby to be blamed for something he didn’t do. Of course, we’ll do it tonight.”
Shit. I shook my head, crowding him over to the sofa until he sat down. “No, that’s not how I meant to say that.”
I urged him to lie back and followed him down, so that I lay angled over him on the narrow cushions.
“It’s not a trade. It’s not a compromise between the time we deserve to have together versus information that could help him.
” My lip curled. “If Tate had just fucking waited, instead of rushing into this like an idiot…” I sighed, ghosting my mouth over his.
“I’m sorry. I just wasn’t prepared for any of this.
I have a massive fucking headache, and all I really want to do is hold you. ”
Charlie ran a thumb along my cheekbone. “I understand. And Tate’s decisions aren’t really why you’re upset,” he whispered.
I buried my face in the crook of his shoulder. Of course, he was right, but if I didn’t have the wind of my anger keeping me up, what was there left to face?
My best friend was under investigation for murder, and Charlie and I had precious few hours left before we confronted the fears we’d avoided for weeks.
“I just don’t know what to do,” I whispered. “I don’t know how to help Bobby, and I don’t know how to help you stay.”
Charlie kissed me on the forehead. “One thing at a time, baby. Have you eaten anything?” he asked.
I shook my head, cheeks warming. He’d never called me that before.
He shifted until I was the one pressed against the back of the couch, and stood. “It’s been a few years since I’ve tried, but I’m confident I can make a better grilled cheese than you.”
I snorted. “You distracted me. It won’t be a fair comparison.”
He smirked, but there was only soft care in his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”
He did make a better grilled cheese than me, the stinker.
“It’s all about layering the cheese properly,” he sniffed, slurping up a spoonful of tomato soup.
I mirrored him, rolling my eyes. “I think you’re full of shit.”
“If there’s one thing I am confidently not full of, it’s shit. Been about forty years, actually.”
A laugh rumbled up from my belly. “I think that means you’re extra full of shit. You should go see a doctor.”
“If I showed up in an emergency room, they’d have more immediate concerns than my bowel movements,” he said, shoving another bite of crispy, toasted bread and cheese into his mouth.
Once we’d finished, we curled back up on the couch in each other’s arms. “I do feel a bit better after that, thank you,” I whispered.
“Mmhmm.”