The Right Kind of Wrong (17 page)

My grandmother's face turns scarlet. "That’s not really any of your business. It wasn’t Parker's either."

"So you're not going to tell us what happened?"
 

Grandma sighs and then continues. "Charlie and James constantly fought about the war and Charlie's decision not to go. I took Charlie's side. I was upset that your grandfather had gone to war and left me behind. James was of the opinion I should stand up for Wesley and maintain the perfect 'war wife' façade. To him, I was betraying Wesley."

It makes sense my grandmother would stick up for the underdog, but something was not right about the story.
 

"So Charlie disappeared into thin air because he didn't want to hear his father bitch at him anymore?"

Grandma stands and picks up her plate. "Yes. He didn't need much prodding. He'd always wanted to leave Everson anyway. Now, I'm done talking about this."
 

Of course she is. I want to tell her I know she's lying, but when Grandma makes up her mind, there's no changing it. She's obviously intent on keeping her secrets. Once we have more evidence, we’ll find out the truth.
 

I'm more determined than ever to get to the bottom of this.
 

My grandmother is quiet the rest of the night. She watches re-runs of soap operas until she's too tired to keep her eyes open.
 

After she goes to bed, Vince and I go back to my room.
 

"Is it safe to say we're not focusing the project on the war and your grandfather anymore?"

"Unless we can't figure out what happened to Charlie," I confirm, hoping that's not the case.
 

"That's not an option. We're going to figure out what happened."

I think about the project and I have no idea how to make this all work.

"Vince?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm not sure how we're going to do this project."

He looks me in the eye. "We can't back out now. We're in too deep."

"No, I want to do the project on Charlie, it’s just that I don't know how it's going to work. We have footage on my grandfather. We have random interviews about WWII but we definitely don't have anything about Charlie."

Vince picks up his computer and pats the spot beside him on the bed. "Come here, I want to show you something."

I fall on the bed next to him. On the screen are hundreds of pictures. He double clicks one and it starts to play. It's a clip from the attic. He drags and drops several boxes into a queue. His fingers move through the screens so fast, I can't keep up. When he's done moving things around, he turns the screen towards me and clicks play.
 

The show on the screen starts with the box we found in the attic, and cycles through the pictures we found, even includes the argument we had about whether or not Charlie was real. It fades to black and the Historical Society house appears. Charlie's name in the ledger takes the whole screen and then Dr. Adam's is carrying out the boxes of info and setting it on the table. The progression shows us finding out Charlie existed and leads to where we are right now. Even though nothing is edited or explained, I see the entire documentary in my mind.
 

I see the power of it. I see us winning.

"Wow!" is all I say.
 

He smirks and closes the laptop. "Right? Now we have to figure out what happened to Charlie."

I close my eyes, exhausted inside. "We'll go to the police department first thing tomorrow."
 

"You need sleep." Vince moves off the bed. Before he leaves though, he leans down and I close my eyes. I wait for the soft touch of his lips but his breath tickles my ear instead. "Goodnight, Kara." He walks out and I curse him for making my lips want his.

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The Everson Police Department is as much a joke as Vince expected it to be. When we park, there's only one police cruiser in the lot and Vince cracks up.

"Some police department. What do they have, like two officers?"

I smile. "I think they're up to four now."

"Wow."

"Shut up. Let's go in and see if they're any help," I say.

We walk through the front door and the guy behind the desk is the last person I expect to see there. Timmy Corrigan is huge. Not in the overweight sense. He's just big. He also happens to be gay.

In school, he was the tallest guy in class. He towered over most of us and while he could be intimidating, we ended up friends throughout high school. His dad and granddad were police officers, too. Everson’s police department has pretty much been the Corrigan clan the entire time it existed. In a judgmental small town like Everson, I didn't think he'd ever join his family here.
 

He sees me, stands up and a smile spreads across his face. "Kara Pierce. To what do I owe this pleasure?"
 

"Hi, Timmy. I have to say, I didn't think it would be you I'd see here."

He shrugs. "I think every town should have a gay, hulking man like myself on the police force."

I laugh. He did always have a great sense of humor. "Well, I won't argue with that. This is Vince."
 

Vince steps forward and shakes Timmy’s hand. "Nice to meet you."

Timmy eyes him, his expression stern. "Boyfriend?"

Vince laughs nervously, "Oh no. We're working on a project together." I know he doesn't mean it like it sounds, but it stings. What was that thing with his tongue in my mouth, then?
 

Timmy relaxes and slaps Vince on the back. "Gotcha! I was gonna have to give you the talk."
 

"Glad I missed that."
 

I laugh too loudly. "Yeah, me too."
 

Timmy sits back in his chair and straightens the pins on his lapel. "So, I assume you're not here to reminisce about the old times. What can I help you with?"

I take Charlie's police report out of my pocket and hand it to Timmy. I look over at Vince. His camera is unfolded and turned on but barely noticeable. I'm not sure how comfortable I am putting Timmy on film. He hasn't agreed to anything. I put my hand over Vince's camera and push it down. Vince looks at me, confused and I shake my head no. When I look up, Timmy is wiping perspiration from his forehead.

"You always did know how to stir up trouble, Kara."

"What's that supposed to mean?"
 

"Well, it's just—shit. I don't know if I can help you with this one."

I reach out and grab the report back, nervous he'll keep it. "Why not?"

"I remember my granddad talking about this—never had anything good to say."

"What’d he say?"

He wipes his forehead again and walks over to a filing cabinet. He unlocks the bottom drawer and pulls out a blue folder. "I'm not supposed to do this, but I've known you a long time. And whatever this is—" He shakes the folder, "—has gone on for way too long. Come with me."

"Go with you where?"
 

"Let’s go see Pop and Granddad. They're going to be the ones to help you, not me."

A bolt of excitement stabs my heart. We're close to finding out the truth. I innately sense it like I did when I discovered the cattle poisoning in high school.

 
"Let's go." We follow his cruiser to the house where he grew up in. The house I spent a lot of time in during high school. When we walk in, his father is watching some game on TV and his granddad is asleep on the couch.
 

"Dad? You remember Kara Pierce?"
 

His dad, a bald-headed, pudgier version of Timmy stands up and grins. "Sure I do. How ya’ doing, little lady?"

"Ralph, it's good to see you again. This is Vince Gage. We're working on a project for a college class."

"I see. Whatcha’ all doing here?"

Timmy steps forward. "Dad, she knows about Charlie. I think it's time you and granddad talked about it to her."

Ralph's smile is replaced with a scowl. He sighs and gestures to the couch. "Ya'll sit down. I guess we have some catching up to do."

We all crowd in the living room and Ralph shakes Timmy’s granddad awake, handing him a pair of hearing aids. He slides them into his ears. "What the hell is all this?"
 

His granddad always had a gruff way about him, but he was a big teddy bear. He loved the Corrigan boys like my grandfather loved me.

"Dad, your grandson took it upon himself to enlighten Kara about Charlie Pierce."

"Wait, Ralph. That's not what happened," I say. "We came to Timmy. We already knew about Charlie. We found this." I hand them the police report. Ralph doesn't even read it. He doesn't have to. He knows exactly what it is.

"I don't even know where to start," Ralph says.
 

Timmy's granddad looks at the report and then hands it back to me. "Oh, for Christ's sake, Ralph. Let’s start from the beginning. Shoulda happened a long time ago."
 

I sigh, relieved. We're going to get answers.
 

Vince holds up his camera. "Would it be alright if I film this?"

All three Corrigan men exchange pensive looks and I see their concern. "We can edit it so you're not actually on camera."

Ralph speaks for all of them. "I guess that'd be fine."

Timmy's granddad clears his throat. "How much do you know about Charlie?"

"Not very much," I admit.

"Well, one day Charlie was here and the next, he wasn't. Nobody knew what happened to him. Never showed up for his shift at the gas station. We talked to everyone in town, and no one saw a damned thing. There was talk that he got what was coming to him."

"What does that even mean?" I ask.

"Charlie was known for his quick temper. He could turn on the charm for the ladies but the minute he got himself in a pickle, he used his fists to get his way. Stands to reason—he mighta got himself into trouble for the last time."

I try to swallow but my mouth is dry and scratchy. What if Charlie was dead? "So you think someone hurt him then?"

Timmy's granddad shakes his head. "I dunno. His old man seemed to think he just up and left. So we figured he probably knew best. Besides, no one argued with James Pierce."

"Why was there a police report filed then?"

"Wesley came back from the war spitting mad. He gave us hell for not filing a police report right away even though James said it was all a cry for attention."

Despite the situation, I smile. It sounds just like my grandfather to raise hell in order to do the right thing. "So, then what? You investigated?"

"Investigate? No. I didn't get that far. I closed the case."

I look at him confused. "Why would you do that? Why wouldn't you figure out what happened to him?"

He swallows and reaches for his water glass. He sips it ever so slowly and the anticipation is killing me. "Child, I was a stupid, selfish man then. When James offered me a lot of money to close the case and keep quiet, I couldn't refuse. He was offering me more than I could have made in my lifetime. He was also dangerous. He was a Molotov cocktail waiting to explode. I had a family to feed. I couldn't go up against him. Not then."
 

"Wait." I say incredulous. "He paid you off to keep your mouth shut and you went along with it? Even though you had no idea what happened to Charlie?"

His lips quiver. "Things were so different back then. I'm not proud of what I did, but please believe me when I say, I did it to keep my family safe."

My hands curl into fists. I can't believe I grew up in a town so corrupt. "What about Charlie? Didn't he deserve to be safe too?"

Silence.

Timmy's hand is on my shoulder now. "I think it's time to stop. My granddad isn't in the greatest shape, I don't think it's good for him to get worked up."

"I ain't getting worked up, dammit. She's right. I was more concerned with staying in James's good graces than doing my job. I'm real sorry I never got the chance to tell your grandfather the truth. That we didn't even try to find Charlie."

We're all quiet. I don't even know where to go from here. I got answers, but now I'm left with even more questions and no more leads to follow. "You never heard from Charlie again?"

"Not a word," Timmy's granddad says.

"If you had to guess—what do you think happened to Charlie?"

Timmy's granddad stares into my eyes. "The people who challenged James Pierce usually ended up on the wrong side of the coin."

"So you're saying Charlie might've pushed his father a little too far and then what? He exiled him? Killed him?"

"I don't think anyone ever really knew how far James was willing to go to get what he wanted. Do I think he murdered his own son? No. Did he have something to do with his disappearance? I'd bet my life on it."

There's nothing more to say. The gravity of his words fill the room and my heart aches for a man I don't know. A man who's own father might have killed him. I need to get out of this room.
 

"Thanks for talking to us, I appreciate it." Disappointment drips from every word.

"Sorry we couldn't be more help," Ralph says.

We follow Timmy out of the house and when we get to our car, I remember Charlie's folder in my front seat. I grab it and run to Timmy's car. "You forgot this."

Timmy waves me off. "Keep it. You probably need it more than we do."
 

I open the car door and give Timmy an awkward hug. "Thank you. You'll never know how much this means to me."

He gives me a toothy grin. "Be good," he says before he drives off.
 

When I get back to the car, I'm near tears. "We don't have any more leads. Now what?"
 

"Back to your grandmother's to do what we do best."

I look at him confused. "And that is?"

"Research. Duh," he says.
 

I'm glad he's more optimistic than I am.

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