Silt, Denver Cereal Volume 8 (9 page)

“
Blane made cake,” Heather
said.

“
I’ll start a pot of
coffee,” Blane said.

“
I was hoping you’d say
that,” Risa said. “See you in a bit.”

Heather looked at Blane and he beamed.

“
You’re sure you’re okay?”
Heather asked. “You’ve been sick
and . . .”

“
Perfect!” Blane said.
“Can you start the coffee?”

She took Mack from him and he ran up the
stairs to get the other room ready. Smiling, she went into the
kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

~~~~~~~~

Monday night—8:32 p.m.

Charlie swallowed hard and looked down. He
knew this was the kind of moment that he needed to “be a man.” He
heard the words in Anjelika’s accented voice and he felt better. He
could do this. He looked up.

As if to start a rant or a lecture,
Detective Red Bear took a deep breath. He took a look at Charlie’s
face and let out the breath. He glanced at Samantha Hargreaves.

“
The guys on my basketball
team don’t like me very much,” Charlie said. “They call me On-Line
and tell everyone I’m stupid. They saw me with Tink, and said they
were going to prove to me that I didn’t want to be with her. I
didn’t think anything of it because they’re assholes and Tink,
well . . .”

Charlie shrugged.

“
Tink was a street kid,”
Charlie said. “These girls were all street kids. The only one who’s
still out is Ivy.”

He pointed to the picture of Ivy.

“
You mean Anna-Marie
McDonald?” Sergeant Aviz asked.

“
Who?” Charlie shook his
head.

“
That girl,” Sergeant Aviz
said. “Her name is Anna-Marie McDonald.”

“
I don’t know anyone’s
real name,” Charlie said. “They take fairy names out on the
streets. You know, fairy names?”

The detective looked puzzled.

“
From
Disney
?” Charlie asked.

“
Anna-Marie is from North
Dakota,” Sergeant Aviz said. “Her mother died when she was a baby.
Car accident. Her Dad left her here with her grandmother when he
was called up. He went to Iraq and didn’t come back.”

“
Her grandmother died a
few years ago,” Charlie said.

Sergeant Aviz nodded.

“
She was a good friend of
Jeffy’s,” Charlie said. “You know the one Saint
Jude . . . and he . . .”

Charlie dropped his head for a moment. The
longer hair on the top of his head fell forward and covered his
face. He had to breathe hard to keep from crying.

“
What’s so important about
this video?” Samantha asked.

“
It hasn’t been digitally
altered,” Detective Red Bear said. “We can see the faces of at
least five of the perpetrators.”

“
Was my client on the
video?” Samantha asked.

“
No,” Sergeant Aviz
said.

“
Why are we here?”
Samantha asked.

~~~~~~~~

Monday night—8:42 p.m.

Sissy waited until she thought Noelle was
asleep before she crept from the room. She slipped out into the
hallway and dug around in the hall laundry bag until she found one
of Charlie’s smelly basketball jerseys. She pulled it on over her
head and tiptoed to his closet at the end of the hall. She slipped
into his bed and pulled the covers over her head.

A few minutes later, Nash plopped down
almost on top of her.

“
What are you doing?” Nash
said in an angry whisper.

“
Sleeping,” Sissy asked.
“What are you doing?”

“
Uh . . .”
Nash said.

He laid down on Charlie’s futon and closed
his eyes. Sissy settled in between him and the wall. They lay there
for a few minutes before Noelle lay down.

“
What are you doing?” Nash
sat up. He nudged Noelle over.

Noelle gave him a shove.

“
What are you doing?” Nash
pushed her back.

“
She’s doing what you’re
doing—missing Charlie and hoping he’s all right,” Sissy said. “Now
shut up or we’ll get caught.”

Nash lay down between Sissy and Noelle. A
few minutes later, Sandy stuck her head in Charlie’s room. The
children pretended to be asleep. She smiled and left. She came back
with a large comforter to cover the worried children.

“
He’s going to be all
right,” Sandy said.

“
How do you know?” Sissy’s
heartbroken voice came from near the wall.

“
I just know,” Sandy said.
“Should I wake you when he gets home?”

“
Yes,” Nash
said.

“
Okay,” Sandy said. “Sleep
tight.”

She went out to the living room. After
fifteen minutes, she crept back to Charlie’s room.

The kids were sound asleep. Smiling, Sandy
went to her room. She picked up Rachel in her bassinette and
carried her to the kitchen. For a moment, she closed her eyes and
smelled—flour, sugar, a touch of cinnamon that escaped Aden's
morning coffee.

“
What should I make
Rachel?” Sandy whispered to her sleeping baby.

She opened the refrigerator and saw the
apples.

“
Pie it is,” Sandy said
and set to work.

~~~~~~~~

Monday night—8:42 p.m.

“
I need a chain of custody
for the video,” Detective Red Bear said.

“
Before my client comments
on anything, I want, in writing, an agreement that my client has
immunity from any crimes he might admit to during this
investigation,” Samantha said. “And by any, I mean any and all
crimes.”

Uncle Seth’s friend stepped forward with a
folded sheet of paper. He held the form out to Detective Red Bear.
The mustached man gave Uncle Seth’s friend a searching look. Uncle
Seth’s friend nodded. Detective Red Bear took the paper, looked it
over, and signed it. He passed the paper to Samantha Hargreaves.
She read it and signed it.

“
Charlie?” Samantha asked.
Charlie turned to look at her. “They need you to tell them
everything you know.”

“
You’re saying those guys
beat up Tink? Raped her? Broke her teeth and gave her seizures?”
Charlie’s face flushed. He stared at Detective Red Bear. “She
almost died!”

“
I need you to help me,”
Detective Red Bear said. “Did you ever beat up guys who were
assaulting your friends?”

“
Sure.” Charlie
shrugged.

“
How many
times?”

“
Maybe three, no four
times,” Charlie said. “Me and some of the guys. I didn’t do all the
beating up. I’m not much of a fighter. I just don’t have an
interest in it. I mean, I’m taking martial arts now because Aden
wants me to, I mean we all have to, even Sissy.
And . . . never mind. The other guys usually did
most of the fighting ‘cuz they like it. I mean I’d throw a punch or
two and I’m big so I can toss people around, but I’d usually take
the girl away.”

“
So you could get laid?”
Sergeant Aviz asked.

“
I don’t need to trick
girls or beat them up or whatever to get laid,” Charlie
said.

“
Answer the question,”
Detective Red Bear said.

“
No,” Charlie
said.

“
But you had sex with all
of these girls?” Detective Red Bear asked.

Charlie turned to Samantha Hargreaves. “Do I
have to answer that?”

“
Why is that question such
a big deal?” Sergeant Aviz asked.

“
Because a gentleman never
speaks about his sexual encounters,” Charlie sniffed. He wasn’t
sure why but he felt really indignant. “Whatever you think of these
girls, they’re good people. It’s none of your business what we do
or did in private.”

Sergeant Aviz smirked, and Detective Red
Bear gave him a long assessing look.

“
Do I have to answer that
question?” Charlie asked Samantha.

“
No,” Samantha
said.

“
Why did you help these
girls?” Sergeant Aviz asked.

“
Why wouldn’t I help these
girls?” Charlie asked. “You’re really pissing me off. I saw my
friends in trouble and I helped. And I didn’t just help them
because they were my friends. And I didn’t help them because I was
going to get something from them. I helped them because they needed
help. What kind of a person do you think I am? What kind of a
person are you?”

Charlie got to his feet.

“
I want to go home,”
Charlie said. Samantha Hargreaves got to her feet. “You don’t want
my help. Scum like you . . . You really should work
on yourself. Maybe if you were a better person these girls would
tell you what you want to know.”

“
Do you still want to help
these girls?” Detective Red Bear asked.

“
You don’t have to do
anything, Charlie,” Samantha said.

Charlie didn’t say anything.

“
Or you can let these guys
keep terrorizing young girls,” Sergeant Aviz said. “They prey on
virgins.”

Charlie gave an involuntary shudder. He
turned to look at them.

“
What do I have to do?”
Charlie asked.

“
Help us identify the boys
on the tape,” Detective Red Bear said. “Give a statement about what
you saw in situations you broke up. Get your friends to talk to
us—the guys who broke up the fights and the girls—the ones you
helped and the . . . others.”

“
Let us know where it
happened and when—time and day,” Sergeant Aviz said. “We might get
lucky and get security video.”

“
Can I think about it?”
Charlie asked.

“
What’s to think about?”
Detective Red Bear asked.

“
If I do this, I have to
quit basketball,” Charlie said. “I really love basketball.
Sometimes it’s the only thing that’s good about being sober
and . . . everything I have to do now.”

“
You can think about it,”
Detective Red Bear said. “But every hour you’re thinking, they’re
planning their next attack.”

Charlie swallowed hard.

“
Okay, that’s enough,”
Samantha Hargreaves said. “We’re going home. You’ll have our answer
tomorrow.”

With that, she walked to the door. Uncle
Seth’s friend opened it. Charlie turned one last time.

“
You’re Sandy’s
Detective,” Charlie said.

Detective Red Bear gave a slight nod.

“
That’s why you don’t like
my Dad,” Charlie said. “He used to ride you to find out who was
involved, to get you to solve her case. You never did. Uncle Seth
solved it last year.”

Detective Red Bear gave a slight nod.

“
Huh,” Charlie said, and
walked out of the room.

Samantha Hargreaves held onto his arm. He
felt her hand as they walked through the maze of the police station
and into the lobby where he walked into Aden’s arms.

“
We’re going home,” Aden
said.

Chapter Two Hundred and
Twenty-Seven
Belong

Monday night—9:17 p.m.

“
You haven’t said a word
since you got out of your interview,” Aden said to
Charlie.

Aden looked over at Charlie and turned left
on Lincoln Avenue. He stopped his Saab at the light in front of the
Colorado Capital Building before turning right on Colfax Avenue.
Charlie grunted. Aden pulled into the McDonald’s drive-through on
Pennsylvania Street.

“
Do
not
tell your sister,” Aden
said.

Charlie nodded and Aden ordered the boy a
meal deal with a couple extra double-cheeseburgers on the side.
Aden pulled into the parking lot so that they would have a chance
to talk. Charlie powered his way through the meal deal before he
said anything.

“
Hungry?” Aden
smiled.

“
Starved,” Charlie said.
“We had the hardest work out before . . .
before . . .”

Charlie scowled and turned his attention to
his French fries.

“
What’s got your goat?”
Aden said. “You know that holding on to anger makes you more likely
to use.”

“
I want to.” Charlie
punched the dashboard. “Ow.”

Aden smiled. Charlie gave Aden an impish
grin.

“
Angry?” Aden tried
again.

“
They kept asking me if
I’d had sex with these girls,” Charlie said. “Like I was only
friends with them because I wanted sex from them or like I’m a pimp
or something . . . gross.”

“
Did you tell
them?”

“
No,” Charlie said. “But
they asked three times. Three times!”

“
Hmm,” Aden said. “What do
you think that was about?”

“
No idea,” Charlie said.
“I felt . . . stupid . . .
ashamed . . . small.”

“
Do you think they wanted
you to feel small?”

“
Yeah, I guess
so.”

Charlie drained his soda. The straw made a
slurping sound and he shoved the straw down into the ice. Aden
raised an eyebrow. Charlie nodded and set the cup in the cup
holder. Sandy would kill him if she heard him making that “foul
noise.”

“
Did you have sex with the
girls?” Aden asked.

Charlie looked at Aden for a moment.