Ugh. Am I really giving the dunderhead a pass?
Nope. I refuse to soften my heart toward him until he’s on his way to the afterlife.
“Go on,” Billy urges. “Make him listen.”
I glance around the room, and everyone offers smiles and nods of encouragement. Except Nina, who hasn’t raised her chin. She’s staring at the table, tears streaming down her face.
I want to wrap her in a hug, but that’s not what’s important right now. Nothing will be right in Nina’s or any of our worlds until these cases are solved and these ghosts are at peace.
“Charlie, I’m Alyssa Mann. I was at Clementine’s when you were shot.”
His eyes bulge, and I immediately wish I’d skipped the whole shot part. Or at the very least eased into it. His teeth chatter so hard, I fear they’d all break off if he weren’t a spirit who has no actual teeth.
“I want to help you. But before I can do that, I need you to answer some questions for me. Can you do that?”
“Y-you’ll help me?” he stammers.
“That’s the plan. I might be able to help guide you back to your body.”
Corinne pops one eye open, and I can see the reprimand she’s holding back in that one eyeball. She’s thinking I shouldn’t be promising stuff I have no clue I can make good on.
She’s not wrong, but we’ll be here all day if I don’t lead this conversation and give him a reason to calm down.
It seems to do the trick. He’s no longer shaking and his shoulders have straightened, so I push forward.
“You admitted today that you were involved in the death of Billy Garet. What can you tell me about that night?”
He squints, looking at something in the opposite corner. “I don’t remember anything about that night. But I remember the next morning. My truck was smashed to hell, and I told my dad I’d run someone off the road.” His mouth presses together. “We heard that some guy was in an accident leaving Clementine’s the night before. It happened on Spooky Hollow, which was my typical route. Dad pieced things together and told me not to tell anyone. He’d take care of it.”
“Richard covered up the accident for you?” I press, needing him to say that part.
Nina groans. “We already know this.”
I don’t address Nina, knowing I have to continue working with Charlie while he’s being cooperative.
“Yes. Got a new truck out of the deal.” Something shifts and his face contorts. “Not like it mattered. I was never good enough. Always a disappointment. He didn’t help to save me. He did it for his political career.”
Hatred oozes from every word he speaks, and I get the sense he’d like nothing more than to see his father suffer. Which gives me an idea.
“He told you not to tell anyone, but you did, didn’t you, Charlie?”
He doesn’t even hesitate. “Spilled my guts to the bartender a month later. She was always cozying up to him when he came to the bar to get me. I wanted her to know what a scumbag he was. Couldn’t keep it in.” His sadistic smile says it all. He told what happened to take down his father, with no care in the world that it would incriminate him too.
I relay all this to the group, leaving out the bit about the bartender and Richard, for Nina’s sake, and know immediately that Nick is putting together ways to prove all of this.
“Ask him which bartender he told.”
I raise a brow at Nick, wondering why that matters.
“I heard him,” he says, saving me from repeating it. “Jenna.”
“He says he told Jenna.”
Nick’s eyes widen. Just a hair, but enough for me to know that prompted some clue that’s vital in his case.
“Tell Charlie to use me to communicate with the group,” Corinne says.
My face screws up. “No. That’s... got to be dangerous.”
