The Millionaires

59

Charlie stared at the redhead, knowing something was up. You’d think I asked for the key to her diary, he thought.

“Y-You want what?” the woman stammered.

“The clubhouse,” he said as he pointed to his and Oliver’s old hideout. “I just wanna use the bathroom.” Hoping to make nice – and noticing that she was a solid fifty years below the average age range around there – he added, “Unless, of course, you want to let me use the one in your grandmother’s place.”

“Yeah, she’d love that,” the woman said, giving Charlie the up and down. She smirked to herself, and Charlie wondered if he was getting the I-love-you vibe. She’s cute too, he realized. Older, but with red hair – somehow it evened itself out. Too bad this wasn’t the time or place.

“So you’re down here visiting grandparents too?” she asked.

“Actually, just my grandmother.”

“What apartment?”

“ 317,” he said, pointing up at the third-floor balcony that overlooked the pool. She didn’t even give it a glance. She’s clearly still stuck on me, he thought – that is, until he noticed the blood that was all over the back of his hand. Crap. His lip was still bleeding.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah… of course… I’m golden.”

“You sure?” she asked, reaching out. “Because I can-”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, pulling away. Realizing he’d creeped her out, he quickly forced a laugh. “It was a bad chewing gum accident. Cherry Bubblicious – a poorly timed bite – we’re talking colossal inner-lip damage. I think I’m still having flashbacks.” Looking around in a pretend dream-state, he added, “Momma? Is that you?”

Charlie kept laughing, but the woman was dead silent. That’s it. Show’s over. “Listen, if I can just get that key…”

“Of course, of course,” she said, diving back in her purse. “I have it right here…” She paused like she was about to say something else. “Let me just get it for you… Charlie.”

Shit.

Her hand came out of her purse and she was holding a gun.

“W-What’re you doing?” Charlie asked, hands in the air.

“Don’t panic – it’s okay,” she said calmly. Her voice was all velvet – which was exactly why Charlie wasn’t buying a word.

“Are you with Gallo?” he asked.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” she promised.

“Yeah… that seems to be the theme lately,” he said, wiping his still bleeding lip. He tried to whip out the comebacks, but all he saw was the barrel of her gun.

“I swear to you, Charlie, I’m not Secret Service; I’m not law enforcement. All I care about is getting the money back and getting you home safe.” Reading the doubt on his face, she steadied her gun hand, slid her free hand back into her purse, and whipped out a white business card, which she flashed like a badge.

Squinting, Charlie read the words Attorney at Law.

“I can’t see it,” he lied.

She didn’t budge – she was too smart to let him get close.

With a flick of her wrist, she winged the business card straight at him. It fluttered down at Charlie’s feet, where he scraped it up and read the rest. Jo Ann Lemont – Attorney at Law – Sheafe International. On the bottom right, it said, “Virginia P.I. License #17- 4127.” A lawyer and a private eye. As if one weren’t bad enough. “What’re you, like Columbo or something?” he asked her.

“You always use humor as a defense mechanism?”

Watching her carefully, he knew she was trying to dig around his head. For that alone, he didn’t like her. Over her shoulder, the pool sat calmly in the distance. Charlie prayed for a distraction, but they were too well hidden by the trees for anyone to notice. “What do you want, lady?”

“Please,” she offered, “call me Joey.”

He sneered at the fake pleasantries. “What do you want, Joey?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“I assume you know Henry Lapidus…?”

Charlie didn’t bother to answer.

“I’m just trying to do my job, Charlie. Now do you want to tell me where Oliver’s hiding, or do you want me to kick down the door to the clubhouse myself?”

It took everything Charlie had to avoid glancing at the clubhouse. He was standing right next to it. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You can keep telling yourself that, but I saw how you left Duckworth’s place. I saw the blood on the carpet. And on your lip.” Her gun was still up, but her voice was back to velvet. “I also know you don’t have your medication, Charlie. So why don’t you tell me what’s really going on – maybe I can help.”

Again, he didn’t answer.

“Believe me, I know I have no business asking for your trust. But I also know it’s not easy to toss your life in the garbage. I did the same thing when I dropped out of college – it took me three months before I realized I had to go back.” Charlie’d seen this one before. She was trying to make peace by finding common ground. Letting the thought grind in, she added, “I know what you’re throwing away, Charlie. Forget the job and that other nonsense – there’s your music… and your mom… and let’s not forget your health-”

“I get the picture.”

“Then tell me what happened. Was it something with Duckworth? Is that why you took the money?”

“We’re not thieves,” he told her. She arched an eyebrow. “All I’m saying is, we didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

“What about Shep?” she challenged.

“Shep was my friend! You ask anyone – all the snots at the bank – I’m the one who grabbed coffee with him, and talked football with him, and made fun of the fact that he thought the front section of the paper was just there to keep the sports section from getting wet.”

She studied his face, his hands, even his shoes. Charlie knew she was looking for the tell – trying to figure if it was a lie. Still, if she didn’t believe him, they wouldn’t be talking. “Okay, Charlie, so if you’re innocent, who killed him?” she finally asked.

He expected her to lower the gun, but she didn’t. His hands were still in the air. “Why don’t you try turning your psych profiles on Gallo and DeSanctis?”

She didn’t seem surprised as Charlie said the names. “You have proof of that?” Joey asked.

“I know what I saw.”

“But do you have proof?”

It was exactly like Oliver said – their word against the Service. “We’re working on it,” he shot back.

“Charlie, you’re gonna have to do better than that.”

He stopped and paused. He didn’t want to say it, but – Actually, that was a lie. He did. “While you’re at it, you should take a look at Gillian as well.”

Her forehead crinkled. “Gillian who?”

Charlie wasn’t sure if she was bluffing or fishing, but by now, he had nothing to lose. “Duckworth’s daughter. It’s her house now.”

Around the corner, there was a shuffling noise on the other side of the clubhouse. Charlie assumed it was someone’s grandmother. So did Joey, who lowered her gun to make sure it was out of sight. With one eye on Charlie, she stepped backwards, carefully trying to get a peek around the edge of the building. But just as she poked her head around the threshold, there was a familiar click. Joey’s hands went straight toward the clouds. She took a step back from the corner, and Charlie finally saw what had her so distressed: a small black gun was pressed against the side of her head.

“I swear I’ll use it,” Oliver promised as he turned the corner of the clubhouse and stepped into sight. With Gallo’s pistol in his hand, he pulled back on the hammer. “Now drop your gun and get the hell away from my brother.”