“I was just sitting here wondering how you’re feeling about me these days.” His gaze was level. “How
“Conflicted,” I said. “But I’ll work it out. Right now, your father should be the focus.”
“Can I see him?”
“No,” I said. “He’s only allowed to see his lawyer.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Do you care?”
“Yes, I care. I’m not a monster, Jo. I understand what my father is doing.”
I stepped closer. “What
Charlie shrugged his thin shoulders. “Playing the hero. Taking the rap because he thinks I’m involved in what happened to Kathryn Morrissey.”
“Are you?”
“I didn’t kill her, Jo. My father should have more faith in me. Of course, that would involve understanding what I’m capable of, and he barely knows me.”
“So are you going to step forward and tell the truth?”
Charlie’s laugh was bitter. “Who do you suggest I talk to, Jo? The cops? How interested are they going to be in hearing that I didn’t kill Kathryn Morrissey? My father? You tell me I’m not allowed to see him. Not that it would make any difference if I did. As always, my father has made up his mind about what needs to be done and he’s doing it.”
“Why do you hate him so much?” I said.
“I don’t hate him. I came over today because I think this hero act of his is idiotic, and I was hoping somehow to communicate that to him. But since that appears to be impossible, I’ll be off …”
I glanced down at Charlie’s feet. He was wearing hiking boots that looked as if they’d just come out of the box. “Nice shoes,” I said. “Are they new?”
“As a matter of fact they are.”
“Did you get them in town?”
“On the Internet. I’ve got these freakish long, skinny feet. Anyway, I can give you the website if you want.”
“Sure.” I stepped closer to him. “Charlie, I was there when you were born. I hate the way things are with you and your father, but I haven’t stopped caring about you.”
Charlie nodded. “Right,” he said. “I’ll call my father’s lawyer and see if I can get her to deliver my little message.”
“Good.”
He leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “Take care of yourself, Jo.”
The morning newspaper was filled with news of Howard’s arrest. For his trip to police headquarters, Howard chose to wear his scarlet toque with its pattern of elves at play. Margot wore leather. In the photo splashed on the front page, they made a striking couple.
Taylor and I had breakfast, then I dropped her off at school and went down to NationTV to see what I could find out. When I arrived, Rapti was across the newsroom chatting with a colleague. I went to her cubicle and, while I waited, looked around for any new photos of Zuben.
“I haven’t got our Halloween photos developed yet,” Rapti said when she returned. “Zuben went as a cat.”
“I wish you’d come to our place.”
“Next year,” Rapti said. She reached back and knotted her shining black hair into a ponytail. “So have you got something for me?”
“No. I was hoping you had something for me. Have the police found out anything more about that footprint they found in the alley?”
“Just that it was no big deal. It came from one of the shoes that poor kid – Ethan – was wearing when he found his mother’s body. Apparently he tried to revive her and he got pretty bloody. He took his clothes out to the Dumpster. I guess he was in shock. Anyway, my source says the footprint is insignificant.”
I stood up to leave. “Thanks,” I said. “Would it be a problem if I pass this along to Howard Dowhanuik’s lawyer?”
Rapti shook her head. “Be my guest. She probably already knows. And, Jo, stay in touch. Jill will want a backgrounder on Howard Dowhanuik.”
“I’m around,” I said.
Margot Wright wasn’t on my speed dial, so I called Zack. “The footprint is a non-starter,” I said. “The police say it belongs to Ethan.”
“I’ll tell Margot,” Zack said.
“And now that it no longer matters,” I said, “tell her that Charlie’s feet are long and freakishly skinny. Also, Charlie’s going to get in touch with her. He wants to send a message to his father.”
“Hmm,” Zack said. “Progress.”
“I hope so.”
