Part 12

Here’s how a nameless creature handles the issue of breakfast. It hunts. Curfew notwithstanding, there were always a few souls willing to brave the night: a businessman returning from a meeting that had run late, a dinner guest that had overstayed their welcome, and teenagers.

Always teenagers, a never-ending supply, young enough to think they’ll live forever and old enough to think that they don’t care if they do. Teenagers sneaking into the park at night for a romantic rendezvous, or stumbling home drunk from a house party. Easier prey than even children, because teenagers had a modicum of freedom. It would be hours before they were missed.

The creature sniffed the cool night air. There was blood on the wind. The tide was changing. A new moon rose. The hunt began.

“Why aren’t there any bars on the windows?”

“I… What?”

“Bars. On the windows. Made of steel. Why don’t you have any?”

“Why… would we?”

“Are you joking? What if there’s an attack? What if the citizens of this fair town need a place to defend themselves? Where are they supposed to go for protection?”

“In Piper Ridge?”

“Where else? Are you stoned, right now? Don’t they administer drug tests? When did you last have to give a urine sample?”

“I… need to go. File. Something”

“Hey, hold on! We haven’t even started on the doors. Do you know how many times I’ve kicked them in without straining myself? Hello?”

Tobias wasn’t sure why Charlie was lecturing the collected officers on security measures. The rookie who had been foolish enough to answer her questions, which had been directed at no one in particular, was now scurrying away as quickly as possible. None of the other officers seemed particularly surprised to see Charlie stomping around. Tobias got the sense that she dropped in regularly.

Charlie had appeared by kicking open the doors and hollering for the Chief, like she was the star of some bad Western. When she’d determined that the Chief was out of the building at the moment, she’d walked straight into his office and sat on the desk. Not at his chair, but on his desk, legs crossed and elbows on her knees.

And there Charlie had stayed, observing all the activity like a bemused queen overseeing her ragtag empire. She’d been there for nearly half an hour already, yelling through the open door at anyone who walked by. Her demands ranged from information on the security system and building codes of the police station to a decent cup of coffee.

Tobias was missing something. These were police officers: people trained to handle any situation and deal with unusual people. And they were afraid of her. They were actually unnerved by this loud, eccentric woman. Clearly there was something he didn’t know at work here. Or the people in this town were easily alarmed by leather and obscenities.

Leaving his looming pile of paperwork and being careful to avoid Charlie’s line of vision (which was currently focused on that same poor rookie), Tobias went over to the desk of Grant Turner. Lieutenant Turner was drinking coffee and reading something on his computer with a pained expression. He was the only person who’d been brave enough to try to get Charlie to sit in the waiting room, like a normal person. She hadn’t responded kindly to the suggestion.

“What do you want, Masters?” Turner asked, as if Tobias was only slightly less bothersome than Charlie Black. He clicked his mouse more forcefully than was necessary. This was the downside to hating everyone you knew and worked with. It didn’t make them inclined to be chatty.

“I was just wondering about her.” He jerked his head in Charlie’s direction, as if he could be talking about anyone else. “You know, what’s her deal.” Turner laughed shortly.

“She’s single. She’ll rip your nuts off with her teeth. Have fun.” He slurped his coffee pointedly. Tobias leaned against Grant’s desk, pretending they were friends who often shot the shit together. Grant stared at him blankly.

“No, really. Why is everyone so afraid of her?” Turner ducked behind his computer and dropped his voice to a tense whisper.

“Shut up! Don’t attract her attention!” Tobias nearly laughed. Grant was not a small man, and yet he was cowering behind his desk like a frightened child. Bewildered, he lowered his head. Because Turner was glaring at him manically, Tobias dropped his voice to a whisper.

“Why? Does she charge at random?”

“Exactly,” hissed Turner, missing the sarcasm by a mile. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with here. Charlie Black is nuts,” he said, spacing each word for emphasis. “She knows everyone in this goddamn town, and she’s loonier than a shithouse rat. So for everyone’s sake, stay the hell out of her way, OK?”

It was the longest speech Turner had ever made to Tobias.

“If she’s so crazed, why does the Chief let her run around crime scenes? What does she do anyway?” Turner shrugged, his attention straying back to his computer.

“Beats me. She’s an ‘outside consultant.’” Turner actually used air quotes, eternally confirming Tobias’ contempt. “Maybe he hires her out of guilt, or pity. She’s a wreck.” He snorted. “It’s not like she has any skills.”

“None you can put on a resume,” a sharp voice said. Turner’s face paled. If looks could kill, Tobias would have been a grease stain on the floor for the janitor to fuss over. Clearly, Tobias was going to be taking the blame for this.

Charlie Black had somehow managed to leave the Chief’s office, circle around the two men while they were talking, and no doubt had been listening for several minutes. And she had accomplished all this without attracting any attention. If ninjas tended to bleach their hair and suffer from nicotine addictions, Charlie would have been their high priestess. If ninjas had priestess, Tobias mentally added.

To his credit, Turner tried to hold on to a modicum of dignity. Pulling himself up to his full height as much as he could without standing, he fixed Charlie with a scornful glare.

“I’m trying to work,” he said, pointing at the computer screen to offer concrete proof. Charlie slid by Tobias and sat down on Turner’s desk. Plucking his coffee cup from his hand, she drained the steaming fluid in one long gulp. Tobias stared. It was like some mad ballet, all graceful actions that nobody would ever perform in real life.

Charlie noticed his incredulous look, and winked at him. Returning the cup to Turner’s hand, which was still outstretched like he was sure this wasn’t really happening, she jerked her head towards his computer.

“Working? Please. Gossiping and looking at porn does not qualify as work. Jesus, are you supposed to be a good cop? No wonder this town is so screwed.” Turner bristled.

“Clearly you still don’t understand police procedure.”

“Grant, stop pretending you were a second away from cracking the case and I ruined all your hard work. You were chatting with Toby here like an old town mother. If you want to start in on people’s histories, you’d do well to pick your own.”

She crossed her long legs and leaned back, holding Turner’s gaze like they were engaged in a deadly serious staring contest. Her shirt rose up slightly, and the edge of a black-inked tattoo peeked along her jagged hipbone. Tobias hadn’t seen a tattoo in Piper Ridge, ever. If people had them, they were shameful and secret. He felt as uncomfortable as if he had walked in on Charlie showering.

Turner, meanwhile, was slowly turning a solid purple that clashed badly with his uniform. Charlie was trying not to smile. To be fair, she wasn’t trying very hard.

“Why don’t you go wait for the Chief somewhere else, Black?”

“I like it here,” she said, the edges of her lips quirking. “If you’re going to be talking about me, shouldn’t I be here to refute the more obvious lies? Unless you’re going to tell him the story about what happened to you in high school, in which case-“ Turner slammed his hand on the desk. Charlie didn’t flinch, but Tobias jumped. Neither Turner nor Charlie noticed him, locked in their strange battle of wills.

“Just because the Chief puts up with your bullshit does not mean that I will,” said Turner, teeth clenched around each word. “Despite what you think, you are not any better than anyone else in this town.”

“No, just smarter,” Charlie replied, unruffled. They might have been discussing the weather. “And unlike the rest of you sad bastards, I didn’t toss my cookies over a few corpses.” She leaned forward, and her tone was almost a caress. “You girls get your panties in a twist? Did you have to go shed some manly tears? Maybe go find a cheerleader-“

“Stop.” Turner’s jaw was twitching madly. Every person in the station was watching, not even pretending to work anymore. Tobias was desperately trying to act like he was somewhere else. Turner leaned forward until he was close enough to kiss Charlie.

“Shut your fucking mouth, you pathetic, lonely whore-“

“Lieutenant Turner,” said the Chief, entering the police station like a doctor in a mental hospital. He was trailed by a stunned-looking Daniel Bounds. “You are an officer of the law, and I expect you to act like one.” Turner’s face went from purple to pink, and he sat down in his chair muttering a half-hearted apology. Charlie’s face expressed nothing but mild boredom, as if the whole scene was too tedious to warrant a response.

The Chief pointed at her, his own expression an interesting mix of amusement and exasperation. She climbed off Turner’s desk, smacked him on the shoulder in a mockery of a friendly gesture, and sauntered into the Chief’s office. Bounds and Chief Foster followed behind her.

“I trust the homicide investigation isn’t getting in the way of your busy social lives,” said the Chief to the room in general. There was a flurry of activity that continued even after he closed the door behind him.

Tobias drifted back to his desk, where his work awaited him. Now everyone was glaring at him, or at least that’s how it felt. Those that weren’t acting like he’d loosed Charlie on Turner were ignoring him more aggressively than ever. Turner muttered under his breath about patrol and left the station without a backwards glance.

Tobias embraced the hostility. It was another thing to be miserable about. He was collecting them, like stamps or scars. Like they were something to cherish and cultivate.

Tobias was getting comfortable with the idea of being hated. It fit in nicely with his worldview. Besides, it was less interesting to try to make friends than it was to sit alone at his desk, imagining what was going on behind the Chief’s door.