through clearly. “We spot this body floating down the Copper River, right? That night you and me go looking for it. There’s a boat down there and the people on it are looking for something, too. Then you, in your brilliance, holler at it, and they get a good look at you.”
“My butt.”
“You, too. You even said something about the body, remember?”
“Yeah.”
“Next thing we know, they’re chasing us. At the shelter, when I was rolling the spliff, I left the cigar box on the ground with Stash’s name in it. That same night they came to your place looking for you, but your dad wouldn’t tell them anything. They…you know.” He paused a moment, then rushed on. “The next day they go after Stash, thinking he was the one with you that night. Charlie, they’re afraid because they think we saw the body.”
“That’s what this is all about?”
“I think so.”
Charlie stared at him, then a deep sadness came into her eyes. “Ren.”
“What?”
“My father. He knew I was sleeping in the truck outside, but he wouldn’t tell them. Oh Jesus.” She looked away.
“Yeah,” Ren said, understanding. “He sure had his problems, Charlie, but he loved you.”
She was quiet awhile. “What do we do?”
Ren chewed on his lip, then shrugged and nodded toward the bedroom door. “We should tell them.”
Charlie looked skeptical. “What can they do?”
“We have to trust somebody.” He looked from her to the door. “And, Charlie, they have guns.”
27
Jewell had an eclectic collection of mugs. The one she held was white, with TOWANDA! printed across it in red. Dina drank from a blue Best Mom In The World cup. Cork had a red mug with The older I get the better I was emblazoned in gold. He looked up when Ren and Charlie marched in. From their deliberate stride he could tell that they had something important to say.
Ren stood in front with Charlie to his left. He squared his shoulders. Charlie buried her hands in her pockets, and her eyes seemed interested in everything except the adults.
Ren said, “There’s something we should tell you.”
Jewell nodded seriously. “We’re listening.”
Ren proceeded to lay out to them a bizarre-sounding scenario that included a body floating down the Copper River, a midnight search along the lakeshore, a mysterious boat, a childish mooning, followed by a pursuit up the trail along the river. The story ended with a cigar box containing marijuana left where it might easily have been discovered.
“You get high?” Jewell asked at the end.
“Sometimes,” Ren admitted.
“Oh Jesus.”
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
“How long?”
Ren shrugged, then shook his head. “A while.”
“Jewell, I know it’s an important issue and you and Ren need to talk about it,” Cork said, “but there’s a more pressing concern here. Is someone trying to kill these kids, and if they are, why?”
Jewell drilled her son with her dark eyes. “We will talk.” She transferred her stern look to Charlie. “And you, too.”
They sat at the dining table, and Cork walked Ren through everything again, double-checking each point with Charlie to be certain they were in agreement about the circumstances.
“You saw the body?” Cork said.
“No,” Ren replied. “Stash-I mean Stuart-did. We kidded him, but he was sure.”
“Did you actually see anything?”
“Maybe. But I thought it was, like, a log or something, you know?”
“Charlie?”
The girl shook her head. “I didn’t see anything.”
“You were high? All of you?”
They nodded together.
“All right, tell me about this boat.”
Ren and Charlie exchanged a blank look. “It was just a boat,” the boy said.
“How big?”
“Not very.”
“Thirty feet? Twenty? Ten?”
“Maybe twenty.”
“Charlie?”
“Yeah, I guess,” she said.
“Think.”
For ten seconds the girl stared at the empty fireplace. “It was just a regular powerboat, nothing special. A good engine, though. Maybe ninety horse.”
“You know engines?”
“I know a lot of things.”
“Did your father know anybody with a boat? Fishing buddies, maybe?”
“They all fish. A lot of ‘em have boats.”
“Can you give us some names?”
She looked irritated, as if it were a pain to have to think. “I don’t know. Joe Otto. Skip Hakala. Calvin Stokely sometimes borrows his brother’s boat. Then there’s Pat Murphy. There’s Roadkill-”
“Roadkill?”
“His name’s Rodney, but they call him Roadkill.”
“Sounds like he had a lot of friends.”
“Duh. He lived here his whole life.”
Cork looked at Jewell. “You know any of these guys?”
“Most of them.”
“Anyone who might be the kind of guy who’d do what someone did to Charlie’s father?”
“When they’re drunk, all of ‘em,” Charlie spit out.
Jewell said, “Max wasn’t particular about the company he kept. But I’d have to say that of them all, Calvin Stokely’s always been the scariest. When we were kids, anything particularly cruel happened around here without knowing exactly who did it, Calvin Stokely’s name popped pretty quick to people’s lips. His folks lived off the grid.”
“Off the grid?” Ren said. “What’s that, Mom?”
“It’s when someone tries to live a life that’s not documented by the government. No Social Security, no taxes, that kind of thing.”
“Like survivalists?” Ren said.
“Not exactly. But they were hard people. Hard on their kids for sure: Calvin and his brother, Isaac. Isaac’s older. He went off to the Army young. When he came back on leave, he found Calvin and his mother beat up pretty bad and got into a fight with his father, who tried to shoot him with a shotgun. I guess Isaac’s military training tipped the scales in his favor. It was the father they buried. Court ruled it a justifiable homicide and Isaac went back to the service. Calvin stayed, but it would have been fine with me if he hadn’t. I know he’s not to blame for what happened to him when he was a kid, but honestly, when I see him in town I try to avoid him. Even after all these years he still gives me the creeps.”
