Chapter Fifty-Eight – Charlie
CHARLIE
My knuckles rap against the wooden front door, and I wait for the sound of approaching footsteps.
When the door finally swings open, I remember just in time to hide my latex covered hands from view and force a smile on my face.
“Can I help you?” He looks at me expectantly, but I’m taken aback by the man in front of me who barely resembles any of the photos Mitchell found of him and stinks of alcohol already.
Gone are the laugh lines and smiling face; in their place his skin has wrinkled in an unflattering way, bruises under his eyes from lack of sleep and what little that remains of his hair is unruly and greasy, in desperate need of a wash.
He scratches at his pot belly sticking out of the bottom of his shirt and my nose scrunches up involuntarily.
“Well?”
“I,” my voice trails off as I scramble to remember the line I was supposed to say. Shit. I had an entire spiel I was going to give to distract him, and now it’s gone. “Um.”
He lets out an exasperated sigh before gesturing to the handwritten sign taped to the inside of the window. “Can you read? No door knockers. I’m not interested in buying your junk or listening about whatever God you pray to.”
He goes to slam the door in my face, and my eyes widen. “Wait! I’m not looking to sell you on junk or religion.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I want-” I clear my throat, trying to stall a few more seconds. “I want…”
“Spit it out or piss off.”
Steeling my shoulders, I give up on trying to remember what story we concocted to distract him. “I want to know why you helped cover up Jasmine Sims murder.”
He flinches, recoiling back at the sound of her name but jumps when doing so has him stepping right into Mitchell standing behind him. I step inside before he can react, closing and locking the door behind me.
“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, you don’t have to hurt me,” he pants out, spitting the blood pooling in his mouth from Mitchell’s punch.
“You mean like how Jasmine was hurt?”
“I had no part in that.”
“No, you just covered up her murder. She was still a kid, and you let him get away with killing her.”
“He was convincing, and it was a lot of money…By the time I realised he lied, that he did kill her…it was too late. What was I supposed to do?”
“Turn him in!” I scream, slamming my hands down on the dining room table causing him to flinch. Mitchell places a hand on my shoulder, but I shake it off, not wanting to be comforted right now. “You tell the truth.”
“I’d already taken the money.” He shrugs, the simplicity of his answer baffling me. Like it’s that simple. “I would have lost everything. My job. My licence. And for what? She was already dead.”
“Bonnie wasn’t.” He tilts his head slightly, like he doesn’t recognise her name and that just pissed me off more. “You let a murderer go free, to continue hurting people. You didn’t stop him; you didn’t even try. You could have saved her …You could have warned her.”
“We had an agreement. I ensured he wouldn’t come after me, wouldn’t contact me ever again, and in return I forgot about him.”
“As easy as that?” I scoff, shaking my head.
“Bullshit. You gave notice and retired the day after the news broke out about Michael's crimes when his body was found."
“Why didn’t you come forward?”
“He’s dead. She got away. What’s it matter now?” I shake my head. Does he really believe that?
“It matters because he had help. He had someone with medical training keeping her alive and treating her whenever he went too far.
Each time he nearly killed her," Mitchell says, his voice heavy with venom as he places his palm down on the table, leaning forward so they're eye to eye.
"It matters because yesterday her car was run off the road and she was kidnapped.
“And right now, you are the only person we know of with medical training that Michael has paid to do his bidding."
“She’s not here. You can look; I had nothing to do with that. It wasn’t me. You have to believe me.”
Mitchell hums, his eyes briefly meeting mine before he turns back to the doctor slumped over in his chair.
“Seven years ago, the pharmacy down the road reported a theft when receiving their stock.
Among the stolen items were five IUDs. One of which Michael had inserted illegally.
Seems like a pretty big coincidence that it happened within minutes of your residence. "
“I had nothing to do with that. I told you; I had nothing to do with Michael after. We had an agreement. We honoured it.”
“If that's the case, why did they choose that pharmacy to rob?"
“How should I know?” He swallows, his eyes looking toward the door. He’s lying.
“I think you do. I think you kept the real autopsy findings and used them to blackmail Michael so that you wouldn't end up dead like the fire marshall. I think Michael was threatening to frame you for the robbery if you didn't destroy them."
"I was just doing what I had to to survive."
"You wouldn't have had to if you'd just done your job. What happened seven years ago?"
Adam sighs. “Michael showed up here with some guy. They threatened to pin the robbery on me if I didn't give him everything I had from that girl's autopsy-"
"That girl had a name," I interrupt.
"And did you?" Michael asks him.
Adam swallows, his head bowed as he nods slowly. "I burned physical copy in front of him."
"What about the digital copy? You said it yourself, you were doing what you had to to survive. There's no way you didn't keep a copy." Mitchell crosses his arms, arching a brow. Involuntarily, Adam looks behind me and when I follow his gaze, I see a room leading to what looks like an office.
"Who was the guy that Michael brought with him?"
“I dunno man, it was seven years ago! All I remember about the bloke was he had this scratchy nasally voice and was white. He-” Mitchell pulls his phone out of his pocket, tapping at the screen and the guy cuts off as a voice sounds through the speakers.
“Hurry the fuck up.”
"That's him." Adam sits up, staring at the phone and nodding his head when Mitchell turns the screen his way, showing the driver with his head down.
Great. So, we now know that the driver who helped kidnap Bonnie and Jace was working for Michael back then. Fat load of help that's going to do when we have no idea who he is. This whole thing just feels impossible. How the hell are we supposed to find them?