Hide (Detective D.D. Warren, #2)(104)

For the first time, his voice dropped, grew menacing. I took an instinctive step back.

"Who are you?" I asked him. "Because you're certainly no minister."

"Former patient, fellow aficionado of mass graves. Who are you?"

"I'm dead," I told him bluntly. "I'm the ghost that haunts the grounds. I'm waiting for that monster to return so I can kill him."

Charlie's blue eyes narrowed. 'Annabelle. Annabelle Granger. Your name was in the paper. From the pit. You really are dead."

And then, a heartbeat later, his face broke into a smile. "You know, I had my heart set on your blonde sergeant friend," he said slyly I saw the wink of the blade in his hand. "But come to think of it, Annabelle dear, you'll do just fine."

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BOBBY HASTILY DESCRIBED Charlie Marvin to the young Latino who greeted them at the Pine Street Inn. Juan Lopez agreed that BPD's Charlie Marvin was indeed the shelter's Charlie Marvin. Had been volunteering there for the past ten years, in fact. Score one for the good guys.

Except Mr. Marvin wasn't currently on the premises. Had taken off about an hour ago. No, Lopez didn't know where. Mr. Marvin was a volunteer after all. They didn't track the man. However, Mr. Marvin was known to work the streets, visiting with the homeless. The police might want to try some of the parks.

Bobby assured him they already had officers on the way. Marvin was wanted for immediate questioning.

Lopez seemed doubtful. "Our Charlie Marvin? Bushy white hair, bright blue eyes, always got a grin on his face, Charlie Marvin? What'd he do, man? Steal from the rich and give to the poor?"

"It's official police business. In regard to a murder."

"No way!"

"Yes way."

"Well, score one for AARP."

"Just give us a call if you see him, Mr. Lopez."

"Okay, but now that you got me thinkin', I'd head to Mattapan. Check out the grounds of that old mental institute. You know the one they've been digging up? Charlie's been hanging around there day and night ever since… Hey, you don't really think…"

"Thanks, Mr. Lopez. We'll be in touch."

Bobby and D.D. headed toward Mattapan, while Bobby got out his cell phone and dialed Annabelle.



I ANTICIPATED CHARLIE'S first reckless lunge, sidestepping on autopilot while my brain tried to sort out many things at once. Charlie Marvin was a former patient at Boston State Mental. Charlie Marvin had discovered the pit. Far from being horrified, Charlie Marvin had been impressed.

It would seem Mr. Marvin had a little violence in his past. He certainly knew how to move with a switchblade.

After his first failed lunge, we neatly exchanged places within my tiny kitchenette. Before I got too far in congratulating myself, I realized Charlie's move had worked perfectly. He was now positioned between me and my open doorway

He watched my gaze dart past his shoulder to my best hope at escape, and grinned broadly "Not bad for an old guy," he offered. "I confess it's been years, but I think I got some magic left."

Bella backed into my legs. She had her hackles up, was regarding Charlie, a low growl in her throat.

Bark, I wanted to yell at my hyper dog. This would be a good time to make some noise! She, of course, continued to growl in the back of her throat. Which I couldn't really blame her for, because three minutes into my first confrontation with evil, I still couldn't manage a scream.

Fear sometimes paralyzes the vocal cords, my father had said. He really had done his homework.

Charlie stepped forward, I stepped back and bumped into my kitchen counter. The kitchenette allowed precious little room for maneuvering, but I already realized I couldn't let Charlie herd me deeper into my apartment. The open door, the exposed hallway were my best hope for escape.

I found my balance, prepared to take a stand. He was old, a switchblade wasn't as threatening as a gun. I stood a decent chance.

Charlie feinted low to the right.

I prepared to swing into an arcing kick.

Bella leapt up at the last minute.

And I heard my silly, heroic dog yelp as Charlie's blade buried itself in her chest.



PHONE RINGING.

Phone ringing.

Phone ringing.

The answering machine picked up. Bobby heard Annabelle's crisp voice announce, "We are not home right now. Leave your name and number after the beep."

"Annabelle," he said urgently. "Annabelle, pick up. We need to talk. Got some new information on Charlie Marvin. I'm running late, at least pick up the phone."

Still nothing. Had she grown tired of waiting for him, gone running off on her own? Anything was possible with this woman. Maybe that's why he felt so scared.

Screw it. He hit the brakes.

"What the hell—" D.D. exclaimed. "He followed her."

"Who?"

"Marvin. He found her in the park last night. Twenty to one, Charlie Marvin knows where Annabelle lives."



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Chapter 36


BELLA WENT DOWN, the phone rang, and I heard my own voice ripped from my throat. "You son of a bitch!"



I launched myself at Charlie, knitting my fingers together and aiming for the soft spot at the base of his throat. He rolled, grabbing my forearm, slicing at me with his switchblade. I toppled, and we became lost in a tangle of limbs. In the detached part of my brain that preferred to watch rather than act, I thought this wasn't the kind of fight I'd been preparing for. There was no fancy footwork, no graceful dodging of well-considered blows. Instead, we grunted and heaved, pummeling each other frantically as we rolled across the floor.