Her protest got her suspended for two days. For a while the whole incident was a hot topic of conversation in Bodine. Gary Johnson had written a fine editorial supporting Charlie’s position, but it didn’t change a thing.
Although Jewell often worried about the young woman, she also knew that there was an extraordinary depth to Charlie’s strength, which was good because coming into this world she’d been given little else to help her along.
Dina Willner was busy writing in a small notepad.
“What are you doing?” Jewell asked.
“Preparing an interview, making notes on the questions I want to be sure to ask. I can fly by the seat of my pants when I have to, but I prefer to go in prepared.”
Jewell nodded, liking the way this woman operated. “How is it you know my cousin?”
Dina glanced up from the page. Jewell saw that her green eyes held a guarded look. “We worked on a case together in Minnesota.”
“The Jacoby murder, right? The one in Aurora.”
“That’s the one.”
“He trusts you.”
From the rear, Charlie said, “He likes you.”
Dina twisted around in her seat. “What?”
Charlie kept her eyes on the scenery out the window and spoke in a matter-of-fact way, as if it were something anybody could see and probably everybody had. “The way he looks at you. And the way you look at him, it’s the same. You like him back.”
“He’s married.”
“Big whoop.” The girl crossed her arms, then said more darkly, “Ren likes you, too. Must be the boobs.”
“That’s enough, Charlie,” Jewell snapped.
“I’m just trying to figure why guys like her.”
“There are lots of reasons to like people of the opposite sex besides physical attraction.”
“Yeah?” Charlie leveled her gaze on Dina, who was still turned toward her. “So what is it you like about the gimp?”
Dina replied calmly, “This is not a conversation I’m going to have with you.”
“Fine.” Under her breath, Charlie whispered, “ Bitch. ”
Jewell braked and pulled to the side of the road. “That calls for an apology. Now.”
Charlie stared out the window and offered a grumbled “Sorry.”
“If you’re going to do this with us, Charlie, you’re going to be civil, understood?” Jewell said.
“Yeah.”
“What?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s better.”
The rest of the way into Marquette, Charlie didn’t say a word. They drove past Providence House and parked on a side street a block away. Jewell and Dina got out.
Charlie leaned out the window. “Why can’t I come?”
Jewell answered, “Because if anybody sees you with us they may feel compelled to report it to the police, okay?”
“They’re good people in Providence House,” the girl protested.
“They also want to preserve the good relations they have with the authorities, I’m sure. And I’d rather not put them in an awkward position. We won’t be long.” She glanced at Dina. “Ten, fifteen minutes?”
Dina nodded.
“Charlie.” Jewell reached in and put her hand over the girl’s hand. “Promise me that you’ll wait and that you’ll be here when we get back.”
“Where would I go?” she asked, surly.
“Promise me.”
Charlie tossed her head back and blew out a loud, frustrated breath. “ All right. I promise.”
As Jewell and Dina approached Providence House, a gas motor roared to life in back, out of sight. A moment later, Delmar Bell appeared pushing a power mower along the edge of the yard. The lawn still looked wet, and Jewell could see that the wheels picked up a skin of cut grass as they rolled along. She climbed the porch steps with Dina, found the front door locked, and rang the bell. While they waited, Dina stepped back and appraised the structure, the yard, and the handyman with his mower. Jewell had no idea what interested her, but Dina took her notepad from her back pocket and wrote something down.
The door opened and the same woman with whom Jewell had spoken the previous day appeared and eyed them warily. “Yes?” A light came into her eyes. “You were here yesterday. Looking for Charlene Miller.”
Jewell said, “May we come in?”
“I can’t tell you any more about Charlene than I did yesterday.”
“We’re not here about Charlene,” Dina said. “We’d like to ask you about another client. Sara Wolf.”
At the name, the woman’s face went ashen. “I can’t talk about her.”
Dina held out her hand and magically a business card appeared. “My name is Dina Willner. I’m a private investigator from Chicago, and I’m looking into the disappearance of Charlene Miller and the death of Sara Wolf.”
“You know about Sara?” the woman asked.
“Yes, we know.”
She studied the card, then the faces of her visitors. “Come in,” she said at last, and turned back toward the dark inside the house.
She led them to a sitting room full of worn-probably donated-furniture.
“Please sit down.”
She took one of the shabby stuffed chairs. Dina and Jewell sat on the old sofa. The angle of the sun kept any direct light from entering the windows, and the room felt gloomy. From outside came the drone of the mower, growing louder whenever Bell approached the house and fading as he moved away. The woman still held Dina’s card in her hand.
“You’re a private investigator?”
“Yes. And you are?”
“Mary Hilfiker. I’m the director of Providence House. Who hired you?”
“I did,” Jewell leaped in. It was close to the truth.
“To look for Charlene?”
“Yes,” Jewell said.
“What does Charlene have to do with Sara?”
“If we tell you the whole story, we need to have your promise that you’ll keep it to yourself.”
Mary Hilfiker weighed her choices and finally replied, “You have it.”
“The police have been here?” Dina asked.
She nodded. “An investigator. He left a little while ago.”
“That’s the first you knew of Sara’s death?”
“Yes. What about this story?”
Dina told her about the body in the Copper River, about the kids seeing it, about the search at midnight and the mysterious boat, about Charlie and the attack on her father, and finally about the car that had hit Stuart.
“We think the body the kids saw was Sara. It was carried down the river to the lake, and the storm that night brought it ashore in Bodine.”
“How would her body have ended up in the river?”
“We’re wondering the same thing. That’s why we’re here. When was the last time you saw Sara?”
“A week ago last Friday. She left the shelter in the morning to go to school and her job and never came back.”
“She was in school and had a job?”
“You’re wondering why she’d be in a shelter for homeless youth.”
“Frankly, yes.”
