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Authors: Barbara Phinney
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know it’s hard for you to believe, but I do want what’s best for Charlie.”
Her own frown continued as he left.
Two hours later, Ian stopped by the Wilsons’ to take Liz to his office. He’d grabbed a pretty good nap after a shower. He’d made a coffee and a sandwich and was now better prepared to talk to her. He’d expected the boys to stay sleeping, but when he arrived, Charlie was up, finishing his cereal. And he wanted to stay with Liz.
The three of them walked outside in an uneasy silence. Liz broke it when she asked, “Which house was it?”
“That one.” He pointed to the Callahans’ house. From the front, it looked normal. The rear was charred and burned. Though it was 8:30 in the morning, the village was quiet. Poco, the dog, was sniffing around the house, but when he spotted Ian and Liz, he didn’t bark. The Callahans didn’t mind letting the dog roam, and Jenny must have let him out sometime during the early morning.
They made their way down to the rec center, Ian unlocking the building and then his office. Liz followed him in, watching him walk around to the other side of the desk to pick up the phone.
“Are you two going to fight?” Charlie asked. He blinked innocently at Liz, and Ian watched as she returned the smile with a melting one of her own, her arms opening tolet the boy walk into them. He climbed up onto her lap. Being a small, agile boy, he looked like he’d done this a thousand times before.
“Ian is going to see about us leaving,” Liz said quietly.
“Me, too?”
“Yes.”
Ian grimaced. Liz must have caught the twist in his mouth because she added, “No promises one way or another. He’s just going to make some phone calls.”
“To the marshal people?”
“Yes,” Ian answered tersely. He didn’t like how much Charlie noticed things around him. But Jerry Troop had been right about one thing. The kid was smart. No wonder Liz was able to locate the boy. He noticed everything and could articulate better than Ian realized.
With a shake of his head, he let his gaze shift around the room to land on the credenza.
The light on his printer was blinking. He glanced down at the paper tray at the bottom of the printer. Empty.
He hadn’t printed out anything since before Vacation Bible School began a week ago. Why was his printer on now? What was waiting in the print queue?
After walking over to his computer, where he confirmed it had been improperly shut down, he turned it on. Then, after grabbing paper from a new bundle in the cupboard of the credenza, he shoved a short stack into the tray. Without hesitation, he hit the resume button.
“What’s wrong?” Liz asked, with Charlie on her lap.
“I don’t know. I don’t remember leaving this printer on, especially in the out of paper mode.” He looked up at her, feeling his brows furrow. “There’s something in the printer’s memory. Someone printed out something then ran out of paper and left it.”
“Maybe Monica. You said she’s helping you here.”
“Maybe.” By now, the printer had responded, spitting out printed paper at a speed he knew would use the minimal amount of ink in the shortest time.
He picked up the first few pages. After setting Charlie on his feet, Liz came up close to him and looked down as well. She gasped. “It’s about Charlie!”
SIX
I ce crawled up Liz’s spine, spreading over the nape of her neck to make her curls feel as though they were standing straight up. The paper in Ian’s hand was part of a marshal report on Charlie. Everything a person would need to know about him, including hints on how to gain the boy’s trust. Ian picked up the last sheet. It was a memorandum on Jerry’s death with scribbling on the bottom right corner: “Suspect child of witnessing murder. Acquire statement at all costs.”
“Whoa,” she whispered through her horror. “Why do you…what reason would you have to get this…stuff? You said you were once a marshal, but all of this? A
Her own frown continued as he left.
Two hours later, Ian stopped by the Wilsons’ to take Liz to his office. He’d grabbed a pretty good nap after a shower. He’d made a coffee and a sandwich and was now better prepared to talk to her. He’d expected the boys to stay sleeping, but when he arrived, Charlie was up, finishing his cereal. And he wanted to stay with Liz.
The three of them walked outside in an uneasy silence. Liz broke it when she asked, “Which house was it?”
“That one.” He pointed to the Callahans’ house. From the front, it looked normal. The rear was charred and burned. Though it was 8:30 in the morning, the village was quiet. Poco, the dog, was sniffing around the house, but when he spotted Ian and Liz, he didn’t bark. The Callahans didn’t mind letting the dog roam, and Jenny must have let him out sometime during the early morning.
They made their way down to the rec center, Ian unlocking the building and then his office. Liz followed him in, watching him walk around to the other side of the desk to pick up the phone.
“Are you two going to fight?” Charlie asked. He blinked innocently at Liz, and Ian watched as she returned the smile with a melting one of her own, her arms opening tolet the boy walk into them. He climbed up onto her lap. Being a small, agile boy, he looked like he’d done this a thousand times before.
“Ian is going to see about us leaving,” Liz said quietly.
“Me, too?”
“Yes.”
Ian grimaced. Liz must have caught the twist in his mouth because she added, “No promises one way or another. He’s just going to make some phone calls.”
“To the marshal people?”
“Yes,” Ian answered tersely. He didn’t like how much Charlie noticed things around him. But Jerry Troop had been right about one thing. The kid was smart. No wonder Liz was able to locate the boy. He noticed everything and could articulate better than Ian realized.
With a shake of his head, he let his gaze shift around the room to land on the credenza.
The light on his printer was blinking. He glanced down at the paper tray at the bottom of the printer. Empty.
He hadn’t printed out anything since before Vacation Bible School began a week ago. Why was his printer on now? What was waiting in the print queue?
After walking over to his computer, where he confirmed it had been improperly shut down, he turned it on. Then, after grabbing paper from a new bundle in the cupboard of the credenza, he shoved a short stack into the tray. Without hesitation, he hit the resume button.
“What’s wrong?” Liz asked, with Charlie on her lap.
“I don’t know. I don’t remember leaving this printer on, especially in the out of paper mode.” He looked up at her, feeling his brows furrow. “There’s something in the printer’s memory. Someone printed out something then ran out of paper and left it.”
“Maybe Monica. You said she’s helping you here.”
“Maybe.” By now, the printer had responded, spitting out printed paper at a speed he knew would use the minimal amount of ink in the shortest time.
He picked up the first few pages. After setting Charlie on his feet, Liz came up close to him and looked down as well. She gasped. “It’s about Charlie!”
SIX
I ce crawled up Liz’s spine, spreading over the nape of her neck to make her curls feel as though they were standing straight up. The paper in Ian’s hand was part of a marshal report on Charlie. Everything a person would need to know about him, including hints on how to gain the boy’s trust. Ian picked up the last sheet. It was a memorandum on Jerry’s death with scribbling on the bottom right corner: “Suspect child of witnessing murder. Acquire statement at all costs.”
“Whoa,” she whispered through her horror. “Why do you…what reason would you have to get this…stuff? You said you were once a marshal, but all of this? A
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