Cold River - Carla Neggers [88]
No point lying. “Someone who looks just like him is sharing his waffle with me.”
A sigh of relief. “Thank God.” She sighed again. “I want him back here safe and sound, and I don’t want him to become the butt of media jokes. Do you understand, Petty Officer Taylor?”
“Yes, ma’am, I do.”
“Then make it happen.”
“Aye-aye.”
“If it doesn’t, I will hold you both responsible.”
Charlie was mouthing the words “my sister?” Grit nodded, and Charlie said, “She’s threatening to choke you and me to death, isn’t she?” He leaned over the table. “Love to you, too, sis.”
“Don’t encourage him, Petty Officer Taylor,” Marissa Neal said.
“Or you’ll choke me to death?”
“That’d make your day, wouldn’t it?”
He shrugged. “Probably.”
She gasped and disconnected. Grit pocketed his phone.
“She won’t rat me out,” Charlie said, confident. “Here they come now.” He motioned toward the window overlooking the parking lot. “Listen. The fire at Myrtle’s house was a professional job. It was made to look like an accidental electrical fire. That took skill. It wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t Kyle Rigby or Melanie Kendall, either.”
“Mice chewing the wires?”
“Our firebug.”
Grit narrowed his eyes on the boy across from him. He didn’t care if Charlie Neal had a genius IQ, he was still a kid. “There is no ‘our,’” Grit said.
Charlie ignored him. “I did some more research. Have you run into a stonemason named Bowie O’Rourke in Black Falls?”
Leaning back in his chair, his shoe no longer feeling tight, his left foot not aching, Grit didn’t respond.
“Ah,” Charlie said. “You have. O’Rourke pled guilty to simple assault and was sentenced to time served in county jail—sixty days—and a couple years’ probation. The assault occurred in Black Falls, at a bar owned by his cousin who, by the way, is the one who called the police.”
“I know about the bar fight.”
“It was a couple weeks before Drew Cameron was killed.”
“So was April Fool’s Day. What do you have on me?”
Charlie waved a hand. “It’s not easy to find out about you. Too many top-secret missions. I wouldn’t have that kind of access.”
Which meant he knew everything.
The kid didn’t miss a beat. “Sean and Elijah—Sergeant Cameron—were both in Black Falls for the bar fight. Not long after, Drew Cameron visited Ambassador Bruni and Jo in Washington.”
“Agent Harper,” Grit corrected.
“Right, right. Agent Harper. Do you think she missed anything when Drew—Mr. Cameron—visited her?”
“I think she worries about it.”
“That’s not the same,” Charlie said thoughtfully. “Hannah Shay’s father was an ex-con. Did you know that?”
“Nope. Makes no difference to me.”
“It might to her.” He licked the last of his syrup off his fork. “I’m missing something. It’s like I have a two, a four and an eighty-three, and I’m supposed to come up with the formula for a rocket to land on Venus.”
“You don’t have to do anything but be a kid. Go play basketball or flirt with girls.”
“Girls still scare me.”
Grit smiled. At rock bottom, Charlie Neal was just a sixteen-year-old boy. “Girls will always scare you.”
Myrtle, Jo and Elijah walked into the little free-breakfast room together. If Jo could have taken Charlie Neal and his waffles out of the motel at gunpoint, she probably would have, but she just addressed him through clenched teeth. “Give Elijah the key to your room. He’ll check you out and get your stuff.”
“It’s good to see you, Special Agent Harper,” Charlie said cheerfully. “I gather you’ve recovered—”
“On your feet. Let’s go.”
Charlie remained in his seat and gave Grit a plaintive look. “No wonder my cousin Charlie complains about her. He says she has no sense of humor.” He shifted back to Jo. “Charlie’s a pain, isn’t he?”
Jo’s eyes darkened but she didn’t speak.
“He felt bad about the airsoft prank. You know. Shooting you in the butt. Those pellets sting, don’t they?”
Grit leaned over the table. Charlie wasn’t hoping Jo didn’t recognize him. He was deliberately playing games with her. “I did tell you she’s armed, didn’t I? And her gun is loaded