Silt, Denver Cereal Volume 8 (8 page)

“
How is it that you know
both Freud and the law and . . .? I heard you were a
drugged out street kid.” Mustache Cop put on some half-glasses to
read from a file in front of him. “Can’t read. Hep C positive. Uses
meth, pot, tends to avoid opiates.”

“
I had a tutor all last
summer,” Charlie said. “Anjelika Roper.”

The man raised his eyebrows as if Mrs.
Anjelika’s name was a threat.

“
She’s in Costa Rica right
now,” Charlie said. “Or she probably would have called you
too.”

Mustache Cop cleared his throat and pulled
on his collar. He nudged the younger cop sitting next to him. The
younger cop started to lay pictures on the table. Charlie didn’t
dare look in case it was something horrible like pictures of Saint
Jude’s victims or worse.

“
I wonder if you know
these girls,” Mustache Cop said.

Charlie glanced down to see the outlines of
photos. He instinctively counted. Eleven photos. He looked up at
the man.

“
Can I touch them?”
Charlie asked. “I don’t have my glasses.”

“
Reading glasses?”
Mustache Cop raised his eyebrows.

“
I’m kinda blind,” Charlie
said.

“
You look like the man and
have the same eye problems,” the man said.

“
My Dad?” Charlie asked.
“Yeah.”

Mustache Cop raised his hand to Uncle Seth’s
friend. He stepped forward with glasses that looked like Charlie’s
glasses.

“
These belonged to your
father,” Mustache Cop said.

Charlie raised his eyebrows in surprise.
Mustache Cop shrugged. Charlie put on the glasses and looked down.
The prescription wasn’t perfect, but it worked pretty well. For a
moment, he debated whether to be honest. Then he remembered how
what he knew could have saved Jeffy if he’d come completely clean
with Uncle Seth when he’d asked. He started organizing the
photos.

“
I’ve never seen these
girls,” Charlie pushed four photos toward the man. “They look
rich.”

“
That’s good,” Mustache
Cop said.

“
Why?”

“
They’ve never seen you
either,” Mustache Cop said.

Charlie nodded.
There
had
been
someone looking at him.

“
How many of these other
girls have you had sex with?” Mustache Cop asked.

“
Uh . . .”
Charlie squirmed.

Uncle Seth’s friend
stepped forward to the table. Mustache Cop
looked up.

“
I’ll get his lawyer now,”
Uncle Seth’s friend said.

Chapter Two Hundred and
Twenty-Six
Pan

“
Don’t say anything until
I get back,” Uncle Seth’s friend said.

Charlie nodded and Uncle Seth’s friend left
the room. Charlie sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.
Mustache Cop leaned over to say something to the younger cop. The
younger cop got up and left the room. He came back with three
bottles of water.

Charlie drank his bottle dry. The younger
cop pushed another bottle at him and Charlie drank it down. He
heard a harsh woman’s voice coming down the hallway toward him. He
had to force himself not to smirk.

“
Your lawyer is upset,”
Mustache Cop said.

The door opened, and Samantha Hargreaves
waddled into the room. Charlie instinctively stood up.

“
I’d like some time alone
with my client,” Samantha said.

“
I’d like a present from
Santa,” Mustache Cop said. “Neither one is going to
happen.”

“
But . . .”

“
Sit down, Ms.
Hargreaves,” Mustache Cop said. “We have a lot of ground to
cover.”

Charlie pulled out the chair next to him and
Samantha sat down. He sat down next to her. Under the table, she
reached for his hand. She gave his hand a squeeze and let go.
Charlie sat up a little straighter.

“
Did you at least
introduce yourself?” Samantha looked at the friend of Uncle Seth’s.
He shook his head. Samantha gave Mustache Cop a threatening look.
He cleared his throat.

“
See the problems I have,”
Mustache Cop said.

“
Therapy works,” Charlie
said.

Mustache Cop laughed.

“
I’m Detective Ben Red
Bear,” Mustache Cop said. “This is Sergeant Aviz. We work in Major
Crimes.”

“
What major crime did
these girls do?”

As if to protect them, Charlie moved his
hand over the photos and pulled them closer to him. They were
photos of girls he’d known on the streets. While he had some idea
of the crimes they may have committed, he didn’t like the fact that
these cops might too. Detective Red Bear noted the response.

“
Nothing,” Detective Red
Bear said.

“
Then we can go.” Samantha
started to get up.

“
No,” Detective Red Bear
said. He looked down at the table and up at Charlie. “I have a
problem.”

“
I think we went over
that,” Charlie snapped.

“
In the last three years,
eleven girls have been brutalized, raped, beaten, and humiliated,”
Detective Red Bear said. “Their assaults were videotaped and
photographed. The images sold.”

Charlie grit his teeth, and stared at the
man.

“
Not
unlike . . .”

Charlie jumped from his seat.

“
Don’t you
ever
say
anything
about my
sister.” Charlie raised his hand to point at the man.

For a moment, everything stopped. The cops
on the other side of the table looked up at Charlie. Samantha
Hargreaves tried to pull Charlie back into the chair. Detective Red
Bear nodded and Charlie sat down.

“
What is the problem that
you believe my client can help you with?” Samantha asked. “I remind
you that he is
sixteen years
old
. He hasn’t
eaten
a thing after a difficult
workout. He needs to be
home
with his family.”

“
A couple of the
girls . . .” Detective Red Bear turned to look at
Sergeant Aviz. He held up three fingers. “Three girls said that
‘Pan,’ and his friends, fought off their attackers and took them to
the hospital. A couple others said that ‘Pan’ took care of them
while they were healing.”

“
So?” Charlie shrugged.
“What’s that to me?”

“
Until today, I’ve had no
leads, zero,” Detective Red Bear said. “The girls are too terrified
to say a word. So I’ve been looking for this Pan.”

“
Why?” Samantha
asked.

“
Because I think he can
help. Maybe he saw something. Maybe he can
stop . . .” Detective Red Bear pushed two photos
toward Charlie. “These two girls killed themselves.”

Charlie swallowed hard.

“
These other two,”
Detective Red Bear pushed the other two photos forward. “These
girls are in a residential treatment program out of state. But
those girls? They’re not great, but they’re not killing themselves
either.”

Charlie didn’t say anything.

“
And a couple of the
girls, like your girlfriend Tink, have really nice haircuts.”
Detective Red Bear smiled for the first time. “What do you think of
that?”

Charlie locked eyes with the police
detective.

“
I’m wondering how much
we’re going to sue the Denver Police Department for,” Samantha
said. “I think a jury would easily see the imprisonment of a
sixteen years old boy without representation or due process for
three hours as . . . what do you think Charlie?
Three million?”

“
Why don’t you just go
after the guys in the video?” Charlie asked.

“
Their faces are altered,
wiped out, not even the FBI can recover their images,” Detective
Red Bear said. “Until today. Did you send your brother Nash a
video?”

“
No,” Charlie
said.

“
To his phone?”

“
No,” Charlie said. “I had
an assignment due. I worked on it until I went to
basketball.”

“
Let’s cut the crap,”
Samantha said. “What video are you talking about?”

“
This afternoon, Nash
Norsen received a video on his phone,” Detective Red Bear
said.

“
How do you know that?”
Samantha asked.

“
It was forwarded to me by
a Homeland Security Agent.”

“
My brother, Colin?”
Samantha asked.

“
Uh . . .”
Detective Red Bear blushed and looked down at the folder in front
of him.

“
I was at basketball,”
Charlie said.

“
Nash Norsen indicated
that you sometimes send things to his phone because it’s the only
number you remember,” Sergeant Avis said.

“
So?”

“
Did you send something to
Nash’s phone?” Detective Red Bear said.

“
No,” Charlie said. “I was
at basketball.”

“
Did someone else send
something to Nash’s phone?” Sergeant Avis asked.

“
Like what?” Charlie
asked.

“
Like a video of your
girlfriend being gang raped,” Detective Red Bear said.

“
What?” Charlie felt his
face flush bright red. He had the immediate urge to cry or throw
up. And for reasons he couldn’t fathom, he wanted Aden.
“Tink?”

~~~~~~~~

Monday night—8:32 p.m.

Flushed from her walk, Heather waited at the
front door for Blane and Mack to finish their last sprint. Mack
liked Blane to race toward the house and come to a screeching halt.
Heather cheered her heroes.

“
Is that your cell phone?”
Blane asked. “Sounds like . . . Rescue
me.”

“
It’s our social worker.”
Heather rushed to get the door open and ran into the house. Her
hand was almost to the phone when it stopped ringing. Blane came up
behind her. “Missed it.”

Fontella Bass belted out “Come on and rescue
me,” and Heather answered.

“
Hi!”

“
You sound awake,” Risa,
their social worker, said.

“
We got home from our
walk,” Heather said.

“
Well, I can’t say I’m
sorry you’re awake,” Risa said.

“
What’s going on?” Heather
asked.

“
I need a huge favor,”
Risa said. “I want to say first that you can say no. I won’t hold
it against you or think you’ve done something wrong. It’s late
and . . .”

“
Has something happened to
Tink?” Heather’s hand went to her heart. She pointed to the phone.
Blane picked up Mack and leaned in closer to listen. Heather moved
the phone so they could both hear.

“
That’s part of it,” Risa
said. “Tiffanie is hysterical. She’s been crying since you dropped
her off. Her counselor came in to help, and he called me to ask if
Tiffanie could come back to your house. I was there
when . . .”

“
When?” Blane
said.

“
One of her friends from
the streets was picked up tonight,” Risa said. “She’s at Denver
Health right now. It’s going to freeze tonight so there aren’t any
free beds anywhere in town. Even if Tiffanie comes to your house,
her bed will be taken by one of the kids asleep in the lunch area.
The woman who dropped Ivy, that’s her name, at Denver Health said
she can come home with her but . . .”

“
They’re not approved,”
Heather said.

“
That’s exactly right.
Because of the cold, our emergency homes are filled
and . . .” Risa seemed to sigh. “I wondered if you
could take the girls tonight.”

“
Girls?” Heather
asked.

“
Tiffanie and her friend,”
Risa said.

Heather and Blane looked at each other.

“
The girl goes by Ivy. Her
legal name is Anna-Marie McDonald,” Risa said. “I have to tell you
that she’s filthy and coming down from being high. She asked for
Tiffanie and . . .”

Blane nodded and Heather smiled.

“
Of course,” Heather
said.

“
You won’t have to keep
Anna-Marie,” Risa said. “She has an aunt and some grandparents who
have been looking for her. We’ll have to research the families, do
home visits and stuff, but we expect them to pick her
up . . . probably next weekend. The longest she’d
stay with you is three months. We’ll find a more permanent
placement if she’s there that long.”

“
They’d have to share a
room,” Heather said. “One of them will have to sleep on the air
mattress tonight.”

“
That’s fine,” Risa said.
“I was with Tiffanie when I got the call about Anna-Marie. We went
to Denver Health to see if Tiffanie could help Anna-Marie. This was
Tiffanie’s idea.”

“
Sounds perfect,” Blane
said. “We can leave right now.”

“
Why don’t I drop them
off?” Risa said. “That way I can review the room and make sure
they’re settled.”

“
Sounds great,” Heather
said. “We’ll see you in . . .”

“
A half hour,” Risa said.
“And thanks. You really saved my bacon.”