Chapter 36 – Charlie #2
“That’s not really a five-minute conversation. Don’t you have to work? What do you do anyway?” I’m not intentionally trying to change the subject, I’m genuinely curious. But, I’m also not not trying to change it either.
“I transcribe audio and video files. I don’t really have set hours; I just have to get them done by their deadline.”
“That’s pretty cool. I imagine you get all sorts of stuff doing that.”
“Yeah, at the moment I’m doing a short animal docu series. They’re actually pretty interesting. I’ve got two episodes left.”
“Nice.”
“Yeah. Now, stop trying to change the subject. How did you find out about Charlotte?”
Making my way to the kitchen, I fall back on old habits and start making us coffees, busying myself while I prepare to start yet another heavy conversation.
“After I graduated, I reached out to Mia. She found Jace pretty quickly, but she didn’t believe the story your husband sold to the world.
She didn’t believe you died in a boating accident despite the death certificate.
She started looking into him and what happened, but she said the more she did… the more suspicious it got.
“She didn’t find anything concrete, nothing to take to the police, but it was enough that she had her doubts and when she tried to contact him for a statement, she couldn’t get a hold of him. She went to the uni he worked at, but no one had seen him in months.
“So, she broke into his house. Mia was the one who found his body. She contact the police and was collaborating with them throughout the investigation.”
I take a minute to collect my thoughts, knowing from her posts, this is all news to her. “Mia couldn’t share everything they found, but the case blew up. It ended up becoming an international investigation when the DNA results came back as yours.
“You were declared dead by a doctor and yet your DNA was found in that basement. Not years old, but months…along with evidence that you had recently given birth.” I don’t mention that the evidence included the video recordings her husband took when he would hurt her.
“The doctor he used to issue your death certificate was stripped of his medical licence and thrown in jail. His country issued the death penalty when they learned that wasn’t the first, nor last time he was involved in faking someone’s death.
“It turns out, the people he used to smuggle you back into the country were part of an international trafficking ring and it was dismantled. A number of them received the death penalty in their countries for their crimes.
“A few cooperated in exchange for life in prison instead and they helped the authorities track down heaps of victims and incarcerate even more responsible for what happened to you and dozens more.”
Neither of us speak for a long time, silently drinking our coffees and just processing everything. When our mugs are empty and there’s nothing left to distract me I clear my throat, taking a risk by breaking the silence.
“I know you probably won’t believe me when I say this but…if you ever wanted to be Bonnie again, you can.” She’s shaking her head with tears falling before I’ve even finished.
“You were never guilty of murder. Given the nature of the investigation, a posthumous trail was granted. He was found guilty of the crimes he committed in relation with the international trafficking ring but also for what he did to you.
“The case hasn’t technically been closed because you’re still a missing person and they need your statement, but you never committed murder; it was self-defence. The police know that. You are not guilty Bonnie, he is. They just want to find you to make sure you and Charlotte are okay.”
“How?” She doesn’t formulate a full question but I’m pretty sure I know what she’s wanting to know, and I know I have to tell her about the cameras.
“There were cameras in the basement. He recorded what he did to you, or at least enough of it, including his death.” She flinches hard at that; almost falling from her chair and I hate that I’m the one breaking this news to her, that I’m the one causing the pain flashing across her face.
Slowly, I reach out half expecting her to shy away from me, but instead she launches herself off her seat and into my arms, a sob ripping through her chest.
Lowering us to the floor, I wrap my arms around her, squeezing her tightly as she lets it all out. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper over and over, my hands running through her hair in an attempt to comfort her.
“There’s more,” I finally say, hating how she pulls away with red rimmed eyes.
“May as well get it all out now.”
“It’s about…about your dad so if you don’t want to know, I understand.”
“What about him?” her voice turns cold, and it sends a chill down my spine. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her voice filled with so much cold detachment before and it has me hesitating; not sure how she will react.
There was a time when he was kind, gentle, supportive.
He was like another father to me; I grieved him when he died.
Not the person he became, but the person he used to be.
The person who comforted me when I had a nightmare during a sleepover.
The person who held Bonnie when she skinned her knee trying to ride a bike.
No matter what he became, he was still her dad.
Fuck, maybe I should have just kept my mouth shut and waited for a better time. After everything I just unpacked on her, I’m worried this might be too much. I could have at least waited until Mitchell and Jace got back so we could help her through it together.
“Tell me, Charlie.”
Swallowing, I take a breath before doing as she asks. “Shortly after everything about Michael came to light…the police held a conference, seeking the community’s help in locating you as a missing person.
"…You know how the internet goes…despite the fact a lot regarding your father’s crimes was sealed to protect the two of you as minors, people found it anyway. News got inside the prison, and he was killed.”
“How?”
“They-That’s not something you want or really need in your head,” I plead with her to leave it at that but resign myself when I see the determined look on her face.
“Tell me. I need to know.”
I don’t look away from her for several long seconds, my eyes flicking between hers. “Are you sure?” She nods and I let out a defeated sigh, hoping I’m not about to make a huge mistake.
"They did to him what he did to Kate. What he tried to do to you. Several inmates…they raped him and beat him to within an inch of his life-” because that’s what he did to his wife. “-then they strangled him to death.”
Other than a quick intake of breath, she doesn’t react, doesn’t say a word and I just hold her, not sure what to say in a situation like this.
I feel like I’m always thinking that lately, but how can anyone prepare themselves for this sort of stuff and know what to say or do when it comes? You can't.