“What? What did Charlie do?”
“He said he could fix it.”
That gave me goose bumps. “What do you mean?”
“He said he could turn the kids back into kids. He said he could cure them. He told me not to worry, that he was going to take care of it and that I didn’t need to give everything away to stop… He said a lot of things about this town and our family. But he told me to leave it to him, that he could undo it. I believe him. Do you think he can do it?”
I suddenly felt sick. Could Charlie Three undo the transformations that had struck the town’s children? If so, I’d made sure the little girl on the basketball court could never come back. If so, I’d killed her. “I don’t know.”
“Well, you can cure the Dubois brothers, can’t you? Maybe Charlie can cure all those kids.”
My fear and nausea turned into a hard little knot. I’d once tried to cure people of the predators inside them. I’d failed in the ugliest way I could imagine.
I looked into her eyes. Her face was full of hope that her problems were going to be fixed by someone else- someone with the power and authority to set things right. Mingled with that hope was the fear that she was passing the buck. I wished there was something I could do for her. “Maybe.”
“You don’t believe it, do you?”
“I won’t know what to believe until I talk to your brother.” She glanced at the phone on the wall. I shook my head. “Face-to-face.
“Do you think this is his fault? I know you do. You’re not that good a liar. But it’s not his fault. It can’t be. He would never do something like this.”
“Cynthia, his company logo has fire on it.”
“That’s not… when he was a kid, he had nightmares all the time about a burning wheel, and it… he’d wake up screaming from them.” She stopped talking and looked all over the table as if she expected to find a persuasive argument lying on it. “Can I tell you another story? About Charles?”
Hammer Bay seemed to be made of stories. “Go ahead.”
“Charles wasn’t the kind of kid to have a lot of friends, okay? He was a good kid, mostly, but it just didn’t work out for him. He did have the latest, most expensive toys, though, so a lot of kids wanted to play with him. See what I mean?”
“Yeah.”
“So he had these dreams, okay? And he and a couple of the kids who played with him got the idea to roll these old car tires down the hill behind our house so they’d bounce into the trees. Being a kid and kinda dumb, Charles tried to impress everyone. He put something flammable on them-I never found out what-and set a couple on fire before he rolled it down into the woods.
“I don’t know if it was because of his dreams or if he was just being a dumb kid like every dumb kid, but he started a huge fire. Three families lost their homes, and Charles cried and cried. After that night, he became very sensitive to his place in this family. He understands what it means to be a Hammer in Hammer Bay. He put that burning wheel into the company logo to remind himself of his responsibilities. He would never do something to hurt the people in this town again. It just isn’t in him.”
“What if he thought he was doing more good than harm?”
She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Her expression went far away for a moment, as if she was remembering something. When she looked at me again, she seemed less sure of herself. “He would never do something like this.”
“Cynthia, what if you’re wrong?”
She laid her hand over her mouth and her eyes brimmed with tears. I did not offer kind words or a gentle touch. There’s no way to comfort a person who suspects someone they love is a killer. Her secret fear had been spoken aloud, and she needed to face the naked truth of it. Or maybe I’m just a bastard.
“Is that really what’s happened?” she asked.
“I’m not sure yet. But I want you to help me put a stop to this.”
She nodded. I was glad. If there was anyone who could get me close to Charles, it was her. I hoped she was ready.
The newspaper was lying on the table. I noticed the headline: TIME I DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. The subhead read: HERO MAYOR VOWS TO TAKE ON CORRUPTION IN HAMMER BAY!
“Oh, hell. That idiot!” I stood without thinking about it. “Have you read this?”
“No, I never read it. Why?”
I handed the paper to her. She glanced at the headline, then skimmed through the article. “I don’t understand.
“I need Reverend Wilson’s phone number.” I rushed to the phone and held it in my hand.
“The phone book is right in there.” Cynthia pointed at a drawer beside my hip. I pulled out the thin directory and flipped it open to
The phone was answered by a woman who sounded elderly, probably his secretary. She seemed to be terribly upset. “He’s busy right now. He can’t come to the phone.”
“It’s an emergency. A real emergency.”
She sighed. She probably thought I was tempted by drink or that I was coveting my neighbor’s car. “Who should I tell him is calling?”
