Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Trent’s phone rang as soon as he turned it on, as he walked in the door of his penthouse. The scent of lemon filled the air, erasing all trace of the Christmas tree. All the holiday decorations had been stripped from the place, leaving it as cold as the January air.
“Charlie, where are you? We’re leaving in three hours—”
“I can’t go, Trent.”
He waited for the explanation, but the pause was so long, his mind spinning with the implications, the automatic tensing across his shoulders causing a sharp stab. He finally filled the dead air.
“Was there a development in the investigation that you need to tell me about?”
“No. Not yet, but I have a bad feeling they’re going to do a search of my house next.
I’m worried Hogarth has turned on me and I still haven’t found out what’s on the surveillance tape he gave the detective.
I just can’t leave Suzette and my mother to face the police without me.
I need to stay here. I can’t be off gallivanting—”
“You wouldn’t be off gallivanting on some trivial trip. This is a playoff game. Win or go home.” He stopped short of telling her he needed her to be there. She knew the stakes.
“Ralph will watch out for you. I—nothing will happen. Your blood pressure is back to normal since we started reducing the serum doses. He can call me if anything—”
“F—ck that. Ralph isn’t you. He isn’t my fiancé.”
“Neither am I.”
He let the painful reverberations of her words roll over him and settle.
“That wasn’t our bargain. The last thing I want to deal with is questions from the media about where the hell my fiancée is.
I don’t need that distraction.” He didn’t need the distraction of Charlie either.
Or did he? Shit. On some level he knew he was being unreasonable, but he wanted—needed her to be there at the game with him.
“I’ll come to the next game. I promise. I know you’ll win. I need to deal with the police investigation now or the press asking about your fiancée will seem like a lightning bug compared to a fireball.”
He knew she was right. He didn’t like that the police were still poking around, didn’t trust Hogarth.
He wanted to do something about it, but he couldn’t be two places at once, couldn’t focus on two monumentally important things at once.
He had to choose and it was no contest. Football came first. Always had.
Charlie had no choice either. Not really.
“Okay, I get it. I’m sure you can handle it. You’ve been doing great so far in spite of Hogarth’s best efforts to sabotage you. I’ll call you after the game tomorrow.”
“Trent . . . good luck.”
“You too.” He ended the call feeling empty.
January 5th
The game was on the television in her living room and Charline sat with Suzette and her mother, a bundle of nerves as the Minutemen kicked off.
Their tree still stood, wilting fast, but her mother’s rule was to leave it up until January 6th.
Diggins would take it down tomorrow. Today was his day off. She wished he was there.
Warnecki called her after she’d spoken to Trent and confirmed that he would be coming to her home today with the city police to execute a search warrant for John Doe files and for serum or any other property of the university medical center.
She’d brought it all over to Trent’s place that morning, using her key for the first time.
It had felt strange being there without him. Lonely.
“This is so exciting,” Suzette said. “I never had such a compelling reason to root for a team before in my life.” She looked at Charline and her smile faded.
“I know you’d rather be at the game with him, but I’m glad you’re here.”
Her mother turned to her and said, “I think Charline should have gone to the game to be with her wonderful fiancé to support him. I hate to think that you stayed behind to keep me and Suzette company.”
She had no intention of telling her mother the real reason she’d stayed home.
She exchanged a quick glance with Suzette.
Her sister knew about the police. She’d had to tell her why she was giving her and her mother their injections first thing in the morning instead of later in the evening as usual.
But her mother didn’t even realize the usual schedule had been disrupted.
“Nonsense, Mother. Trent will be home later. The game is only in New York. Charline can go and visit with him tonight.” Suzette gave her a meaningful look and Charline rolled her eyes. But in her heart, she wished she could, wished it were that easy. Wished she were that brave.
The most important thing she worried about when the police showed up was them finding out about her family’s illness—if Hogarth hadn’t already told them.
The city police might not make a connection, but she knew Warnecki would connect the dots between her mother and sister’s illness and the serum theft. Motive.
And that would be a very bad thing.
“Another touchdown, Charline. You must be so proud,” her mother said.
She nodded. Trent looked like he was in top form, or what she imagined was his top form since she couldn’t imagine he’d ever played better.
She had a wistful feeling that she’d never seen him play before this season.
Football might be just a game, but she got it now.
It might not be the most important thing in life, but it was important.
It gave people hope, fed their life-worn psyches and tired souls with enough uplifting joy to go on, to slog through the daily turmoil.
To get a moment of escape from their bigger problems—like she was doing right now.
The front doorbell rang. No one ever rang that bell. Charline stood, surprised the bell worked. She didn’t think she’d heard the bell in twenty years.
“Who could that be?” her mother said.
“I’ll find out.” Charline walked from the room into the front hallway, took a deep breath, and pulled the door open.
The police began to execute the search warrant.
Her mother, being the practical woman she was, seemed to understand it all and went along with it. In the end, Charline should have known she would do anything for her daughters, no matter her declining cognition.
Suzette and her mother knew she’d taken the serum for them, had guessed it was stolen, and were grateful and fiercely protective of her.
She wondered if they would still be so supportive if they found out about Trent’s participation in the drug trial and that her engagement to him was a pretense to cover it up.
She was torn between keeping the secret from them and hoping they never found out.
After the police left having found nothing, Charline escaped back to the living room to watch the last quarter of the Minutemen game.
She realized she enjoyed going to the games and watching and sometimes forgetting about the study and the potential complications. She loved watching Trent move and play.
Her mother watched with her now. A commercial came on. The game was near the end of the fourth quarter.
“The police found nothing,” her mother said. She nodded. Her mother smiled.
Suzette returned to the room and plopped onto the couch. “I’m glad that’s over with. Glad you’re out of the woods,” she said.
Charline nodded, not wanting to spoil their relief, but she had a bad feeling about the city police detective.
She wouldn’t bet against them getting a search warrant for Trent’s place, knowing she was supposedly engaged to him.
But that was another problem for another day, wasn’t it?
She turned her attention back to the game.
“It looks like the Minutemen will win. Trent will get to play in the next round of playoffs.” She turned to her mother, aware that she had a big genuine smile on her face in spite of everything.
Her mother looked up at her, but she noticed that her mother had been crying.
“What’s the matter, Mother?” She rose from her chair.
“Oh, nothing. These are happy tears. Seeing my daughter so in love with a good man makes me so happy.”
Charline shouldn’t let her mother believe the lie. Guilt rose up. She shook her head in denial.
“Don’t try to deny it, Charline. You deserve to be in love.
You can’t go on forever being about all work all the time.
Let yourself go. I know the signs.” Her mother met her with an intense look.
“You’re in love. And he’s in love with you.
And I’m very relieved and thrilled that you finally have someone to take care of you. ”
Charline had no idea what to say in response to that speech. She wished it were true. Wished her mother was right. Her conscience fought with her about what to say, but her mother’s frail state of health weighted the scales.
Why not let her mother believe the best? It was the least she could do for her, though she knew the end of her blissful fake engagement was only weeks away.
So what if her mother’s vision wasn’t reality, that Charline didn’t have someone to take care of her.
Although, Charline had to admit, sometimes she did feel taken care of by Trent.
He had protected her, stood up for her against Lisa Cooper, against the team doctors.
How much of that was real? Or was it all for the cause of keeping their secret?
It felt real, but maybe that was because she needed to feel it, after all these years she needed to feel like someone was watching out for her, taking care of her instead of her taking care of herself and everyone else around her.
Not that she minded. She loved taking care of people, being able to help them. She wished she could do more, especially for her mother and sister.
Maybe her mother was right.
Charline gave her a tissue and her mother shakily wiped her eyes, barely able to raise her hand to her face.
Charlie covered her mother’s hand and helped her wipe her tears, but the tears didn’t stop.
The Minutemen’s win was the only bright spot in the day and even though she was glad, truly happy for Trent, it wasn’t enough to make up for the detective’s visit, his suspicion. Or for her mother’s worsening depression and symptoms of the disease.
Or for her dread fear that Trent could be seriously injured at any moment. Or suffer a stroke.