Loverboy (18 page)

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her, helping her in the truck. “I understand.”

She smiles as she reaches for the seat belt, and I shut the door.

“Nick,” her voice makes me turn as I shove the key into the ignition, “it can only get better from here, right?”

“Of course,” I tell her, “and it’ll just get easier.”

“It’s almost been a month since…” Her voice trails softly as she looks away for a moment.

“And you are doing extraordinary,” I tell her. “You’re healing, Charlie, you really are. Not just physically, but mentally.”
             

She leans forward and presses her lips to mine for a moment. “Good things can come from bad.”
             

I give her a bright smile.
Really
good things.

* * * * * *

The next few days are quiet and relaxing. Charlie has made the choice to stay in, which I don’t argue with, since she had made a point of going to the party when she didn’t want to in the first place. She’s sitting nestled comfortably into her couch with a cup of hot Chai Spice tea as she flips aimlessly through various channels.

“Why is it, when you actually have the time to watch TV, there’s absolutely nothing on?” She grumbles, tossing the remote to me.

I shrug. “It’s a conspiracy.”

She laughs, blowing into the mug of tea before having a sip.

“You could always turn your Netflix on,” I remind her. “Pick a movie to watch.”

She nods and leans her head into the side of the couch.
I can tell she really doesn’t feel like doing much of anything, but she is quite happy just laying back on the couch with me. Though she does look quite peaceful, I know enough that I can tell something is on her mind.

“You feel okay?” I ask her.

She nods. “Just thinking I guess. We still don’t know anything.”

“I know,” I tell her. “Sometimes it does just take some time.”

“And, what about all these unsolved cases?” She asks.

“You just can’t think like that,” I tell her.

She looks at me out of the corner of her eyes. ”I know,” she says softly as she slowly sits up.

“There are far too many great people working around the clock on this case to think like this.”

She nods. “I know, I shouldn’t question what the police can or can’t do. I’m just ready for it to be done and over with.”

“If anyone is ready, I know it’s you,” I tell her. “But,
chin up. For me?”

She nods again and smiles.

My phone seems to ring louder from my pocket as I work to fish it out. Charlie leans back and takes a few more sips of tea as I slide the phone to ‘answer’ mode.

“Good news?” I ask, already knowing that Sergeant Wilson is on the other end is.

“We,” he pauses. “Have someone in custody,” he takes a long breath. “He turned himself in. The son-of-a-bitch is a cop, Andrews; she was right, he’s a cop.” My mouth drops and I glance at Charlie, who knows what the phone call is clearly about. “Can you bring her for a line up?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I can, and we can be there shortly.”

“We just want to see if seeing him will toggle that memory of hers,” he says. “And, we have to make sure this guy isn’t nuts.”

I nod. “I understand. We will see you shortly,” I tell him, hanging up the call and turning to Charlie.

“Anything good?” She asks.

I take a long deep breath and let it out slowly. “They have someone in custody.”

Her eyes grow large. “They what?”

“They have someone in custody,” I repeat. “He apparently turned himself in, because his conscience was eating away at him.”

“So, what does this mean?” She asks.

“Well, they want you to go in for a line up,” I tell her. “They know your memory is still hazy, but they at least want you to see if you can try to remember.”

“Why?” She questions.

“Because he turned himself in,” I explain. “Some people are crazy, and just want to take all the credit.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” She asks.

I nod.

“Well,” she says, reaching for the Victoria’s Secret jacket she enjoys wearing.
,
“Let’s get this over with; the quicker the better.”

* * * * * *

Walking into the police department when you’re under police protection can be a bit alarming. People know who you are, what happened to you, when it happened to you.  So it’s only natural that you can feel a little awkward, which I can tell was exactly how Charlie is feeling. She gives her jacket a nice tug and pulls it around her body as she crosses her arms in front of her. I glance over for a moment and let out a breath. She still has no idea that the man who turned himself in was a cop. I honestly don’t want to tell her. I’m almost afraid to. I’m afraid that her opinion about me may change very quickly.

“Andrews,” I hear Wilson’s booming voice from just down the hallway. “Charlotte, how are you feeling?” He nods.

“Okay I guess,” she says. “How is someone supposed to feel after all of this?”

He nods. “Are you ready for the
line up?”

She shrugs. “Probably not, but I’ll do anything to get these guys in jail.”

He nods in agreement, and begins leading us into a small room, the two way mirror just in front showing the classic white wall and black lines indicating height. Charlie takes a moment to pause at the doorway. I place my hand on her lower back, giving her a gentle nudge and a smile. She returns the smile and heads into the room, where she stares at the empty space ahead.

“Where are they?” She asks.

“We’ll bring them in,” Wilson explains, pressing a large button that sounds a loud buzzing noise.

Charlie jumps closer to me and squeezes her arms around herself tighter. I hear her sigh as she closes her eyes for a moment as men of all shapes and sizes walk into the line viewing.

“Can they,” she pauses. “They can’t see me, right?”

I shake my head. “It’s a two way; it’s just a mirror on their side.”

“But, they know someone is over here,” she says.

I nod. “More than likely.”

She looks up at me and makes an odd little face before returning her gaze to the line of men. Some were rough looking, beards, messy hair, and even dirty. Others were rather clean cut and nice looking. Not what you’d typically picture for a serial killer. She slowly brings a hand up and rubs at her eyes before giving her head a shake.

“Is there any
way I can hear them talk?” She asks.

Wilson gives her a little nod and orders the men, through a one way intercom, to state their names loud and clear.

One by one, each man takes his turn stating his own name. Some have deep voices, some high voices, but it becomes clearer when number seven says his name in his smooth voice. Charlie drops to her knees and grabs for the metal trash can, where she immediately becomes sick. Color drops from her face and lips as she closes her eyes and throws up once more.

“I think we have our answer,” Wilson tells me.

One of the men, in fact, was a cop.

I watch as the Wilson heads out of the room, closing the door tightly behind him. I can hear his naturally loud voice on the other side as he announces the information and barks a few orders here and there. I can now see the men in the lineup have all been ordered to face forward as they’re all being marched back to their cells. I can’t help but to feel immense anger wash over me as I glance at number seven. I worked
along
side him. He isn’t a friend, but I certainly knew him. And, now, I hate him. I hate him for what he’d done to Charlie. I give a few glances around the room and listen for anyone coming through the door before I kneel down next to Charlie and place a hand tenderly on her back as I pull her hair from her face.

She covers her mouth and looks up at me. “I am so sorry,” she mumbles underneath her hand. “I just,” she pauses. “I know.”

I nod. “It’s okay.” I give her back a few more rubs. “Are you okay?”

She nods, only to pause and then shrug. “I don’t
know.” She leans over the trash can. “I remember that voice,” she takes a deep breath. “Right in my ear. Those things he would say.” I can see the tears welling in her eyes. “The things he did.” She exhales and places her head over on her arm.

“They have him now, “ I tell her. “He won’t hurt you anymore.”

She nods. She looks pitiful and weak. I’d give anything to take the burden of her thoughts and bad feelings away from her. To give her more peace than this. Even knowing that one of them is in jail just isn’t enough.

“Charlie, there’s something I have to tell you,” I say.

“What?” She asks, glancing up at me.

“The man who turned himself in,” I pause. “He is,” I stop again. “He was a cop.”

“Was?” She asks.

“Well, he certainly won’t have a job now,” I say, rubbing her lower back.

She leans her head down again. “What’ll happen now?”

“He’ll stay in jail.”

“No bail, no questions asked, he’s not getting out?” She says.

I nod. “He’s staying in on a more permanent basis.”

She sniffles and wipes at her eyes.

“Can I get you anything? Water?” I ask.

She sits up more alert and places her hand on my arm. “Don’t leave me.”              

I nod toward the water cooler. “It’s just right there,” I reassure her.

She finally nods in agreement as she pulls herself up and into one of the old metal chairs. I pull up a spare chair just next to hers and have a seat as I hand her the small cup. “Sip slowly,” I tell her. “I don’t want you to make yourself sick again.”

She nods and has one small sip. “There’s just one more,” she says.

I nod and push more of her hair from her eyes. “Just one more.”

“And, this guy,” she says. “This cop, he knows who.”

I nod. “We just need to get him to confess who.”

“How can you do that?” She asks.

“We have people,” I tell her. “Good people. They’re trained for this. They can get it out of him, and we’ll have our guy.”

“Good people?” She asks. “Like, they’ll break his legs if he doesn’t talk?”

I laugh and take her face in my hands. “If I could break every bone in his body, I would, just for what he’s done to you,” I say, planting a light kiss on her forehead.

She leans into me a moment. “Nick, is it really almost over?”

“Yeah,” I say. “It is.”

She has another slow sip of water. “Can I break his fingers?” She asks.

I laugh again. “If it were legal, I would let you.”

“Guess the police department would frown upon that,
huh?” She asks.

I nod. “More than likely. But, I’ll put in a good word for you.” I wink.

“Am I allowed to leave?” She asks, drinking the last bit of water in the cup.

“Any time that you’d like.”

She nods. “Is it okay that I have some more water first?”

I nod, taking her cup and head over to the water cooler for a refill. “Are you feeling any better at all?” I ask.

She nods and takes the cup from me. “At least, I think I am. I mean, he’s in jail. He’s not going anywhere anytime soon. I’m safe from him. It’s just,” She pauses. “There’s one more.”

“But, he knows who the other guy is,” I remind her. “We will get it out of him.”

“But, when will that be?” She asks. “How long will it take to get it out of him?”

I pull her in for a hug. “We got one; we will get the
other one,” I reassure her.

“I guess I’m just ready for all of this to be over,” she says. “I really want to forget that it ever happened.”

“I really wish none of this would have ever happened to you,” I say, softly.

She nods and pulls back from me slowly. “But, then I wouldn’t have met you.”

“And, just how do you know that?” I ask.

“Because, I’m the felon, remember?” She laughs.

“But,” I start, “doesn’t that mean that you would meet me?”

“But, you certainly wouldn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “Men do like bad girls.”

She laughs softly and pushes a tuft of hair from her eyes. “Tell me that it’ll all be okay.”

“It’ll all be okay,” I say. “I promise.”

She nods and wraps her arms around her body. “Care
to get me out of here? I’m dying to brush my teeth,” she admits, making a face.

I nod. “Of course. And, just plan to stay comfy, we’ll stay in and relax.”

She smiles.

“And, I hope you don’t mind snuggling on the couch,” I tell her.

She shakes her head. “Not at all.”

“I’ll even let you pick some sappy chick flick,” I say, opening the door for her.