Forty-Four Box Set, Books 1-10 (44) (153 page)

CHAPTER 50

It was a rare afternoon shift and I would be here till closing. I was up front with Lyle and David was in the back.

“How’s school going?” Lyle asked.

“It’s going. We’ve been learning about stocks. You got your beef stock, your vegetable stock, your chicken stock, your fish stock. And then there’s your laughing stock. That’s how I’ve been feeling lately.”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that. It’s just life. There are things you need to go through so you can come out the other side. One day you’ll look back on all this and you’ll be the one laughing. You’ll see.”

I could see why Paloma had married him. Whatever else he had going for him, Lyle was like a harbor in a storm. A harbor with big hair and killer hot chocolate.

I smiled and looked outside.

A tsunami of terror swept over me.

He was standing on the sidewalk in front of the café, looking at me.

The man with the tattoo.

CHAPTER 51

I stood there frozen, unsure of what to do. I could wait. I could go out and talk to him. I could take his picture. I could call David. I could call the police.

He kept staring through the glass, his dead eyes searching for something. At first I thought he didn’t see me, but I soon realized that the complete opposite was true. He was looking right through me. And he was angry.

After a minute he put his hand up against the window pane and just held it there.

It wasn’t a wave, more like a signal for me to stop.

And then he was gone.

I was about to go get David when he came up behind me.

“He was here,” I whispered. “He was just here.”

“Tat Man Du? Oh, my God, Abby Craig. Where, in here?”

“No, just outside.”

“C’mon,” David said, heading cautiously toward the door.

I followed him outside.

“Which way did he go?” he asked.

“That way.” I pointed. “But I don’t see him now.”

And then it hit me.

“He put his hand up on the glass, David. I think he might have left his prints.”

“I have an idea,” he said.

“What?”

“You stay here and guard the scene,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

I looked up at the glass where the tattoo man had placed his hand. There it was. I could clearly see it. A moment later I saw David coming back with a tray.

“It’s right here,” I said, pointing to the outline of the palm and fingers.

“I learned this on the show last year,” he said. “It was for a really cool scene that ended up being cut. Are you watching my back, Abby Craig?”

“I got you,” I said, scanning the street in all directions again.

He put his tray down and pulled out his phone.

“First, we’ll get a few photos for backup. Let’s see, I need max magnification.” He took some pictures. “That should do it. Now for the fun part.”

He took the lid off a tin of cocoa powder and scooped some out with a spoon. He held the spoon up to the glass and gently began blowing. Pretty soon that section of the window was covered with a fine dusting of the chocolate.

“It would be best to have a brush for this next step, but this’ll have to do.”

He blew on the glass again until most of the cocoa powder was gone.

“Cross your fingers,” he said and smiled like he was seven and this was Disneyland.

He cut off a piece of clear packing tape and placed it on the glass across the fingers. He used a shorter section of tape for the thumb. Then he lifted each piece of tape off the glass and taped it to a sheet of paper.

“There. Now let’s go see what we have.”

“That’s so cool,” I said.

I followed him back inside.

Lyle smiled. I think his afro smiled, too.

David studied the piece of paper. Then he shook his head, a large frown on his face.

“I can’t understand it,” he said. “It worked so well on the show. But I can’t see anything here. Take a look.”

He was right. There were no identifying ridges. They just looked like chocolate fingers.

“Well, it was worth a shot. That was really impressive,” I said. “You think there’s anything on your phone?”

He went through the photos but there was nothing there either.

“Maybe he just left smudges,” David said. “Of course it’s always possible that I screwed it up. But you know, these criminal types burn off their fingerprints sometimes. Maybe that’s what we’re looking at here.”

I should have known nothing would come of it. It was how the entire case had gone from the beginning.

“Are you sure it was him, Abby Craig?” David said a few minutes later.

“I’m sure.”

“That’s good enough for me,” he said. “I’m off at six but I’ll come back at closing to follow you home.”

Ever since Ty came up with the plan that one of them would always be with me, David had taken his bodyguard responsibilities very seriously.

“You don’t need to do that,” I said. “It’s Ty’s turn anyway.”

“Well, I’ll check with him just to make sure. I was going to go over to Liam’s to try to work things out, but he’s been such a douchebag lately, I don’t know if it’s worth it.”

After David left and the place got quiet, I thought more about the tattoo man. I thought about the way he stared at me. I started shivering, those fingers of fear from my visions suddenly coming to life in my chest.

There was no denying it anymore. He was on to me.

And unlike his blurred fingerprints, the feeling he left behind was crystal clear. I was in danger. Real danger. He might not have been the one who had hurt Mo, but he was going to hurt me.

I thought back on our encounters. The church. The park. The motel. And now outside of Back Street. In each instance, except for this last one, I had been the one following him. I couldn’t seriously go to the police and expect them to do something based on a man standing outside the café for a minute or two.

Like Charlie Modine I had no proof. I had nothing.

I was on my own.

I needed a gun.

CHAPTER 52

We were getting ready to close. Mike was in the back and Mo was ringing up the last customer.

She had only missed one shift following her attack. From what David told me, her eye had turned a rainbow of colors, but she wore it like a badge of honor and her street cred among her legion of fans grew to something close to living legend status.

As I was doing the final sweep, I saw him standing up against the wall at the far table.

“What’s the word?” he said.

“Beats me.”

I decided not to tell him about the tattoo man’s visit. Not just yet anyway.

Modine stomped his feet.

“Still cold?”

“Can’t shake it,” he said, lighting up, the smoke forming a haze around him.

“Well, spring can’t be too far away.”

Just then my phone rang. It was Ty. I held up my hand and picked up.

“I’m sorry,” Ty said. “David told me what happened and I was on my way over there when I got a flat. Can you wait? It shouldn’t be more than 20 to 30 minutes.”

“No, I’ll be fine,” I said. “I’ll have Mike walk me out. And David’s probably home. Don’t worry.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay, but call me when you get home.”

“You got it,” I said and hung up.

“Okay, Abby, tell me something good,” Charlie said. “How did it go at the motel the other night?”

“I’m afraid it was a bust,” I said. “He’s staying there, but he’s not in Room 15.”

Charlie took a long drag and shook his head.

“You sure? I could’ve sworn…”

I nodded.

“Well, all right, how about this? You and me, we head over there right now, find out which room he is staying in. And if he’s not there, we’ll slip in and take a look around. Find us a clue.”

“You mean like a fingerprint?”

“Yeah like that. Or something else. Who knows what we’ll find.”

“Okay, Charlie, sure. But I wanted to say something first. I wanted you to know I’m sorry. I feel like I’ve failed you. I’ve done no better than the police. Every turn has led to a dead end.”

“I know you’ve been trying, Abby. It’s a big ask. I know that, too. But you can’t lose hope. That’s one thing I learned in all this. There are going to be days, lots of days, that just kick your ass. But you get up the next morning and look in the mirror and say, ‘Is that the best you got?’ And you get back on that pony.”

It was a good speech and I could tell it came from experience and from the heart, but my pony had come up lame.

“I’m not saying I’m giving up, Charlie. I’m going to stay with this, but I don’t know what will come of it. In the meantime, maybe there’s something I can do for you. Now. Until we catch this guy. It’s a little thing. But maybe it will bring you some peace.”

“What is it?” he said.

“It’s something I need to ask you about. It’ll only take a few minutes.”  He stood up a little straighter, waiting. “Have a seat.”

“What is it? Did you find out something?”

“I think so,” I said. “But it’s not directly related to the murder.”

He stood there, eyeing me suspiciously. I pulled out a chair from the small table and sat, hoping he’d follow.

“Look, Abby, we don’t have time for anything not directly related to the murder. Whatever it is, it can wait.”

I just sat there and he finally tossed the butt away and squeezed in between the chair and the table across from me, rubbing his face. His eyes grew large and dark. I had his attention.

“Go.”

I took a deep breath.

“It’s about how you died,” I said.

The muscles in his face twitched, and he broke free of my eyes and looked around.

“I’d like to know how it happened,” I continued. “I mean the specifics. Where you were, stuff like that.”

He ran his fingers through his hair and leaned back hard in the chair.

“I don’t understand what this has to do with anything.”

He started to get up.

“Just humor me for a few minutes and then we’ll go to the motel,” I said.

He shook his head slowly and looked like he was about to start cursing, but then he said, “Get on with it.”

“Tell me about your life after Sarah.”

He closed his eyes as if he was trying to remember.

“I wouldn’t call it a life.” He started in on another cigarette. “I went through the motions. All the things that seemed important before… they all lost that spark. Like money. Money used to be important. I was doing all right. Before, my biggest problem was finding tax shelters for all the coin I was making. And then when she died, well, it didn’t mean a thing. Not a damn thing.”

He sighed.

“Why is it like that, Abby? Why are we programmed that way? To not realize how much something means to us until it’s gone?”

“I don’t know, Charlie.”

“I, uh, I loved her so much. When she smiled, when she was happy, there was just something in the air. It was electric. It was like magic. When you’ve lost something like that, how can you go on? I missed her so much. I just wanted to be with her again.” He held out his hands and looked around. “But it didn’t quite happen the way I thought.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, like in the movies. You wake up after you die, see a light, and walk toward it. Your loved ones are there waiting for you. Everything’s warm and fuzzy. Part of me believed in that fantasy. I thought she would be there when I… crossed over or whatever. But it’s not like that. There’s nothing here on this side. She’s not here.”

He pulled out a handkerchief. I heard footsteps behind the counter.

“Craig, you okay?” Mo said.

“Yeah. Go ahead and take off. I’ll finish closing.”

“All right.”

“And watch yourself out there.”

“Watch this,” she said, holding up a middle finger but then smiling.

“Anyway, I’ve got it figured out now,” he said, elbows on the table and leaning in. “I think I know what happened, why I haven’t seen her.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s not God. It’s Sarah. She hasn’t forgiven me.”

I scrunched up my face, confused.

“I let her down, Abby. All down the line. I didn’t appreciate her enough when she was alive. I didn’t protect her. I didn’t find her killer.”

“Sometimes bad things just happen, Charlie. Sometimes there’s nothing we can do. Everybody has regrets. I think you’re being too hard on yourself.”

But he wasn’t listening.

“You see, it’s the same thing here, on this side. I’ve finally found him. But that’s as far as it goes. I’m like a hamster on a wheel. But I don’t care. I’m not giving up. Not this time. I’ve been given a second chance and I’m not going to let her down.”

He sighed.

“Wait,” I said. “What did you mean, not this time?”

“What? Nothing. I mean my heart quit when I was alive. No danger of that anymore. That’s all I meant.”

“There was more to it, wasn’t there? How did it happen, Charlie? How did you die?”

“Jesus, why are you so about that?” he said, shooting up on his feet again. “I told you. A heart attack. What are you trying to get at here?”

“I’m trying to help you,” I said, hoping to God Father Grady knew what he was talking about. “I’m trying to get at the truth of how you really died. How it happened. About what you did.”

He pushed a chair, sending it flying across the room.

“What I did? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Why are you always wearing that scarf, Charlie?”

CHAPTER 53

Charlie stood there like a cold stone statue in a graveyard.

“Take off the scarf,” I said softly.

“I know you probably think you’re helping. But everyone has their limits. This is really starting to piss me off, Abby!”

There was an anger in his voice I hadn’t heard since that day he told me about the Church’s involvement in his wife’s death.

“There’s something you need to face,” I said. “I’m not sure what it has to do with catching her killer, but I think it’s important. I read about it online. It happened on the one-year anniversary of Sarah’s death. You were holed up in your apartment. You were lonely. Desperate. Consumed by grief. Remember?”