TWO
“Never thought I’d see you again, Joe Tyler,” Jane Wiley said, looking me up and down. “This can’t be much fun for you. How are you?”
We were in the public area down on the main floor of the hospital. Jane had gone to high school with Chuck and me and, like most people we went to school with, she hadn’t left Coronado, unable to pull herself away from the idyllic setting. I had left, but not because I'd really wanted to.
“I’m fine. How are you, Jane?”
“Be better if my client hadn’t gotten the shit beat out of him.”
“Why exactly is he your client?”
She pointed at the two chairs next to us and we sat.
She shifted into lawyer mode, her expression growing serious. “Physical assault on an eighteen year old female. She's a high school senior.”
“That’s not funny, Jane.”
“I’m serious.”
I paused. “Then it’s garbage.”
“Victim’s father filed the complaint,” she explained. “The girl backed it up with a statement. And with her appearance. She’s pretty banged up. There was more than enough to charge him.”
I hadn’t been around him for years but I knew that Chuck wouldn’t have beaten up a teenage girl. Couldn't have.
“What did he say?” I asked.
“Said he didn’t do it,” she said, frustration showing in her bunched up eyebrows. “Then he shut down and asked me to find you.” She studied me. “Which, by the way, wasn’t the easiest thing I’ve ever tried to do. If I hadn’t run across Lauren’s number in his phone, I’d still be looking. Where the hell have you been?”
“You think the charge is solid?” I asked.
Annoyance flashed through her eyes. But it passed quickly. “As solid as you’d expect. He knew the girl. There was some corroboration by some of the girl’s friends that they were spending time together. Alone.”
“She said, he said,” I said.
“Pretty much. The bruises tend to back it up,” she said.
“He didn’t do it.”
“Gonna need more than that, Joe.”
“So you can deal it down?” I asked. “Cut its legs off and turn it into a misdemeanor?”
Her cheeks flushed and irritation rippled through her small, compact body. “Fuck you. I’ve already done ten times more for him than some P.D. would’ve done by trying to dig up your sorry ass. Because Chuck’s a friend. You wanna work on your bad lawyer cliches, I’ve got plenty of other clients who want my time. I couldn’t care less.” Her eyes narrowed. “And you’re the last person I’d expect to be throwing around bullshit accusations.”
She was right, but I didn’t apologize. “What happened to him?”
She eyed me carefully before she spoke. “They’re calling it a random attack. Maybe a robbery gone bad. Seems he was running on the beach and got jumped. No wits, of course, because that would be too easy. He’s been unconscious since he was found.”
It would’ve taken more than one guy to bring down Chuck. “Is he gonna be alright? Doctor just gave me the basics.”
“It’s the skull fracture that’s the issue,” she said. “There’s some swelling and bleeding in and around the brain. Assuming the swelling and bleeding subside, he should be okay. But he won’t be alert until that happens.”
Like the doctor, she didn’t state the obvious, that the swelling and bleeding might not subside.
“You’re an investigator now?” Jane asked. “That’s what Lauren said.”
“Not officially. I’m not licensed or anything.”
“But it’s what you do, right? Mostly cases involving kids?”
I glanced past her toward the front doors. A man and a very pregnant woman walked in, glancing at each other, nervous smiles on their faces. She whispered something to him and they giggled. The man kissed her on the cheek as they walked past us toward the information desk.
I shifted on the sofa. “Lauren tell you that, too?”
She shrugged. “You know how it is. I hear things every so often. I would’ve found you. Crossing paths with Lauren just sped up the process. But I did find other bits and pieces. Seems like you’ve been able to help some people.”
The first few years after I left Coronado and San Diego, I had trouble looking people in the eye when they said something similar. I didn’t know how to take the compliment. But I’d finally gotten past it. I met Jane’s gaze. “I do alright.”
An uncomfortable look settled on her face and I knew what was coming. “I’m sorry, Joe. For everything you went through. Both you and Lauren. I’m sorry.”
I’d heard it so many times that I was numb to reacting. I responded automatically. “Thank you.”
She opened the satchel on the ground next to her feet, pulled out a file and leveled her eyes with mine. “But I have to say, I’m not sure having you attached to this is going to help Chuck. Your name comes with a lot of baggage.”
“I know.”
“And more than a few people here still think…”
“I’m here to help Chuck,” I said. “And I could give a shit what anyone here thinks of me.”
She kept her eyes on me, pursing her lips, like she was trying to make some sort of decision. Finally she shrugged and handed me the file folder. “That’s what I’ve got. It’s not much, at least for coming up with a defense. Nothing much will happen until he’s in better shape. It buys us some time. Keep me in the loop and I’ll do the same.” Jane stood and hesitated for a moment, her eyes looking past me. “People already know, Joe.”
“Know what?”
She pulled the satchel over her shoulder and refocused her eyes on me. “I grabbed a sandwich over at Ike’s before I came over to meet you. And goddamn if half the restaurant didn’t already know. No idea how that shit happens, but it does. This place is worse than a girl's bathroom in a middle school.”
I stood, the folder in my hand, uneasiness filling my chest. “Know what, Jane?”
She raised an eyebrow. “They already know you’re back.”
THREE
I walked out of the hospital. Palm trees waved in the breeze, the smell of the ocean riding the air as if to remind me I was in a place that used to be home. Massive aircraft carriers hulked beneath the arching blue bridge on the other side of the bay, anchored to the south end of downtown. I sat down on a stone bench just off the main doors and opened the file Jane gave me.
The complaint had been filed on behalf of eighteen-year-old Meredith Jordan. It said the contact between her and Chuck had come as a result of their relationship at Coronado High School. And it said Chuck beat the crap out of Meredith Jordan.
I stopped reading. Two questions immediately popped into my head. What was Chuck doing on a school campus? And more specifically, what was he doing at our alma mater? He wasn’t a teacher or administrator last I knew and I was willing to bet that hadn’t changed.
As unlikely as it was to find him on any school campus, Coronado High School’s would’ve been the last one on the list. We spent four years there and while I hadn’t minded high school, Chuck thought it contained all the charm of a toxic dump. He had clashed with teachers, coaches and our classmates and barely managed to graduate. He’d skipped the graduation ceremony and as far as I knew he hadn’t had anything to do with the school since he walked
