Hide (Detective D.D. Warren, #2)(102)

Now what?

Bobby glanced at his watch, winced. He'd already burned up an hour and a half. Time to find a dog-friendly hotel and return to Annabelle.

He picked up the fourteen sheets. "Mind if I make copies of these?"

"Be my guest. Hey, didn't you say Charlie Marvin worked at Boston State Mental?"

"He was an AN," Bobby supplied. "During his college days. Then volunteered his time as a minister until it closed down."

"Sure about that?"

"It's what the man said. Why?"

Sinkus finally looked up. "Bobby, I got decades of payroll ledgers in front of me. Nineteen-fifties till closing. I'm telling you, no Charlie Marvin ever made a dime."





Chapter 35


WOULD YOU LIKE some help?" Charlie called down to me.

"Oh, ummm, that's okay I'm coming up." Bella was already bounding up the stairs. Whereas I found Charlie's sudden appearance disquieting, she was overjoyed to see her newest best friend.

She hopped, leapt, and licked. I lugged the three bags up the stairs, thinking fast. Last I knew, Charlie didn't have my address. Where in God's name had I put my Taser?

Then I remembered. I'd set it down. On the shelf. Inside my storage unit, while I'd pulled out the suitcases. My locked storage unit. I almost turned away, headed back down the stairs. Almost.

"Sounds like you had quite a morning," Charlie commented cheerfully as Bella and I emerged into the gray light of the building's lobby. I saw now that one of my neighbors had propped open both front doors. Unloading groceries, no doubt. It would make an excellent headline for the Boston Herald: "Young Woman Brutally Stabbed to Death While Fellow Tenant Stocks Fridge."

I needed to calm down. I was jumping at shadows again. According to Bobby, Charlie had spent last night at the Pine Street Inn. Meaning he couldn't have delivered my latest gift. At eye level again, I realized that Charlie wasn't really that tall, nor large, nor, at his advanced age, threatening. In fact, as I gingerly set down my luggage so I'd be free for defensive measures, Charlie was kneeling and scratching my dog under the chin.

"Some officer called at the shelter, asking about me," he said matter-of-factly.

"Did he? Sorry about that."

"Gave me a chuckle," Charlie said. "Being a 'person of interest' at my age. Anyhoo, one of the guys who runs the shelter has a police scanner. Naturally, we tuned in after that. Dispatch mentioned this address, and being a busybody and all, I thought I'd stop by and check on you for myself. I can't help thinking some of this is my fault."

"Your fault?"

"I'm being followed," Charlie said bluntly. "Least, I'm pretty sure I am. Started the day I met up with Sergeant Warren and Detective Dodge in Mattapan. Wasn't sure at first. Just kept getting a kind of hinky feeling between my shoulder blades. I think maybe I was being followed again the night I ran into you. And I think the same person who is following me knows something about the mass grave. And maybe something about you."

"Why something about me?"

"Because you're the key to that grave, aren't you, Annabelle? I don't know how, I don't know why, but everything that's going on, it's all about you."

My neighbor picked that moment to jog up the stairs, four plastic grocery bags in hand. He gave us a brief nod—what was there to notice, a young woman, an old man, a blissed-out dog—and headed up the central stairs.

Charlie's eyes tracked the man's movements, though his fingers never stopped caressing Bella's ears.

"You know something about Mattapan," I told Charlie, a statement now, no longer a question.

Very slowly, he nodded.

"Something you haven't told the police."

Another slow, thoughtful nod.

"Why are you here, Mr. Marvin? Why are you stalking me?"

"I want to know," he said quietly. "I want to know everything. Not just about him, but about you, Annabelle."

"Tell me," I demanded suddenly, a foolish mistake.

Charlie Marvin smiled. "All right. But seeing as we're now friends, you have to invite me into your apartment."

"And if I say no?"

"You'll say yes, Annabelle. You have to, if you want to learn the truth."

He had me and we both knew it. Curiosity killed the cat, I reminded myself. But the truth was too powerful a lure. Slowly, but surely, I nodded my agreement.


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I MADE HIM go up the stairs first. Seemed slightly less stupid that way Kept him in my line of sight. I had the suitcases to carry, I told him. If he followed me, I'd probably whack him with one of them accidentally. He had no idea how clumsy I was, I said.

Charlie accepted my explanation with his cheerful smile. Understanding completely Not at all challenging.

The long hike up five flights of stairs—lugging suitcases, no less, gave me plenty of time to curse myself. Why had I forgotten the Taser? And how in the world did I end up with a dog who was such a rotten judge of character?

Because I was pretty sure Charlie Marvin was a threat. I just wasn't sure how.

In the good-news department, I had fitness and youth on my side. By the time we hit the fifth-floor landing, Mr. Marvin was breathing hard and holding his side.