official assignment. Like it was something he just stumbled on. I think he was really supposed to be looking out for turtles.”
“Did he mention any names?”
“I think he said something about a Chinese. But wait.” She tapped a bony finger to her lips, raised it in the air. “He said there was a guy in Lancaster and a guy in Columbia. Don’t know if that had to do with bears or turtles, but I remember wondering about it later, because Charlie Junior was working up in North Carolina, not down here.”
The clock cuckooed once, marking the half hour.
“More coffee?”
“No, thanks.”
She rose to refill her cup. I spoke to her back.
“Skeletal remains have been found, Mrs. Cobb. I believe they could be those of your son.”
Her shoulders slumped visibly.
“Someone will be phoning?”
“I’ll call you myself when we’re sure.”
She balled her fists, slipped them into the pockets of her sweater.
“Mrs. Cobb, may I ask one last question?”
She nodded.
“Why didn’t you share this information with those investigating your son’s disappearance?”
She turned and regarded me with melancholy eyes.
“Charlie Senior said Charlie Junior’d probably gone off to San Francisco or somewhere so’s he could pursue his lifestyle. I believed him.”
“Did your son ever say anything to suggest he was considering a move?”
“No.”
She raised her mug to her lips, set it back down on the counter.
“Guess I believed what I wanted to believe.”
I rose. “I should be going.”
At the door, she asked one last question.
“You read much Scripture?”
“No, ma’am, I don’t.”
Her fingers bunched and rebunched the Kleenex.
“I can’t figure the world out.” Barely audible.
“Mrs. Cobb,” I said, “on my best days, I can’t figure myself out.”
Weaving through the whirligigs, I felt eyes on my back. Eyes filled with loss and sadness and confusion.
As I walked toward my car, something on the windshield caught my attention.
What the hell?
Two paces more and the object grew focused.
I stopped in my tracks.
One hand flew to my mouth. My stomach rolled over.
Swallowing hard, I took two steps closer. Three. Four.
Dear God.
Revolted, I closed my eyes.
An image crawled through my mind. Crosshairs on my chest.
My heartbeat shot into the stratosphere. My eyes flew open.
Did the Grim Reaper have me in his sights? Had I been followed?
I had to force myself to look at the macabre little form scarecrowed against my windshield.
Propped between the wiper blade and the glass was a squirrel. Eyes glazed, belly slit, innards sprouting like mushrooms on a rotting log.
34
I WHIPPED AROUND.
The inner and aluminum doors were closed.
