“That’s government property.”
She turned around. Ben Bernard, one of the lawyers from the district attorney’s office, trundled down the stairs. The collar of his dress shirt was frayed. His tie was askew. He studied the stuck Starbursts. A large sticker on the glass warned that shaking the machine could result in fines and possible imprisonment.
He asked, “How badly do you want this?”
“Bad enough to go down on you in the supply closet if you get it for me.”
Ben grabbed the machine with both arms and gave it a violent shake. Her husband was no Arnold Schwarzenegger, but he was clearly motivated. It only took two attempts. The Starburst dropped into the hopper. He reached down and pulled out the yellow pack with a flourish.
Charlie was game, but she warned, “I should probably confess that I had my head in a toilet twenty minutes ago.”
“They put a lock on the door after the last time, anyway.” He pressed his hand to her forehead. “You feeling okay?”
“I think it’s PMS.” She bit open the pack of candy. “Listen, I need to run a name past you.”
Ben’s mouth moved as he chewed at the tip of his tongue. They had been doing their respective jobs for four years, but he was a prosecutor and she was a defense attorney; they still hadn’t quite worked out how to help each other while still maintaining their professional sides.
“It’s not a criminal case,” she assured him. “At least, not my part in it. I’ve got a girl who wants to be emancipated from her guardians.”
He sucked air between his teeth.
“Yeah, it’s not a great situation.” Charlie tried to peel the wrapper off a red Starburst. “I was upstairs filling out a document request on a structured trust. The guardians are her grandparents. It sounds like they’re into some bad things.”
He took over for her on the candy wrapper. “What bad things?”
“Pills, I gather. And alcohol. And money from the trust. It sounds like they’re going to milk it dry before she’s of age.”
“So, she can pay you?”
“Ehn.” Charlie shrugged, giving what she hoped was a winning smile.
Ben said, “Dexter Black.”
“Not my client.”
“Yeah, I noticed that when Carter Grail brought him into the office for a talk. Any idea when he’s going to pay you?”
“Babe, if my clients paid me, we’d probably end up taking a long vacation to somewhere like Costa Rica, and you would get really sunburned, which raises your risk for melanoma, which is the deadliest form of skin cancer, and then I would have to kill myself because I can’t live without you.”
“Okay, that makes a lot of sense.”
Charlie could see that he was trying. “I’m not one hundred percent certain that she’s not being abused.”
“Shit.”
“Well, she didn’t tell me that she was being abused. She actually denied it, but…” Charlie shrugged again. She wasn’t clairvoyant, but she’d had a bad feeling when she’d heard Flora’s denial. There was a fleeting look in the girl’s eyes, like she had been trapped in a corner and didn’t know how to get out. “Even if it’s not true, she’s in trouble, and I feel like I have to at least try to help her.”
Ben didn’t hesitate. “Then, either way, I have to support your decision.”
She had no idea how she’d managed to marry such a wonderful man. “We’ll pay off our student loans one day.”
“With our social security.” Ben held up the candy. Charlie opened her mouth so he could drop it in.
He asked, “What’s the girl’s name?”
“Florabama Faulkner.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?”
“Kid never had a chance.” Charlie chewed the Starburst a few times before sticking it up inside her cheek. “Grandparents are raising her. She gave me their names, but I got their address from the Girl Scout rolls.”
“That sounds vaguely illegal.”
“I took a pledge to be a sister to every Scout, so it’s basically like spying on my sister.”
“I’m going to distract you with my hands while I try not to think about you wearing a Girl Scout uniform.” Ben took out the tiny spiral notebook he always kept in his suit pocket. He showed the cover to Charlie: Captain Kirk looking serious about some Starship business. He edged the compact pen out of the spiral. He thumbed to a blank page.
She said, “Leroy and Maude Faulkner. They’re living down from Shady Ray’s.”
His pen didn’t move. “In the cinder-block apartments?”
“Yep.”
“That’s a bad place to raise a kid.”
“They used to live on the lake. I’m assuming that trust fund mixed in with their addictions made it easy to make some bad decisions. Belinda says the grandmother showed up in a Porsche once, stone drunk.”
“What kind of Porsche?” Ben shook his head. “Never mind. I get what you’re saying.”
“Flora wants to go to college. She wants to make her mom proud, to honor her memory. That probably won’t happen if she stays with her grandparents.”
“Probably not.” Ben scribbled the names and closed his notebook. “Word around the office is the entire apartment building is under surveillance. The cops are being really secretive about it, but I saw some photos on the wall in Ken’s office. Addicts live there along with a handful of terrified, law-abiding citizens who can’t afford better. There’s a meth lab in the vicinity.”
“They can’t find it?” Meth labs were usually found in trailers or recently blown-up basements.
Ben said, “I gleaned from the photos that they think whoever is cooking the meth is doing it out of the back of a panel van.”
“That sounds stupid and dangerous.”
“The cops will catch them the minute the van explodes.” He tucked the notebook back in his pocket. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Just thinking about my mom a lot. Flora’s mother died when she was young. It stirred up some things.”
“What can I do to make you feel better?”
“You’re doing it.” Charlie stroked her fingers through Ben’s hair. “I always feel better when I’m with you.”
They both smiled at the corny line, but they both knew that it was true.
He said, “Listen, I know I can’t keep you away from those apartments, but don’t go there alone, okay? Ask to meet them somewhere neutral, like for coffee at the diner. Whatever is going on at that place has to be dangerous. The county wouldn’t be spending the money for surveillance otherwise.”
“Understood.” Charlie smoothed down his tie. She could feel his heart beating beneath her palm. She pressed her lips to his neck. The skin prickled to attention. She traced her mouth up, whispering in his ear, “I promise you’ll get a rain check on the supply closet.”
“Chuck,” he whispered back, “this would be so hot if you didn’t have puke in your hair.”
Charlie swung by the house to take a shower and change before going to the cinder-block apartments. She had indicated to Ben an understanding that she should stay away from the place, but Ben probably knew that Charlie wouldn’t stay away, so going there was actually living up to a long-held promise in their marriage: the promise that she would do whatever the hell she wanted.