“What’s going on, babe? You’ve been off since this morning.”
Charlie felt her bottom lip start to tremble. She had avoided saying the words all day, but now was the time to say them. Even if the test was negative, she was sure that they were as ready as they were going to ever be to bring someone else into their family. Ben was her soul mate. He was the love of her life. She wanted to watch him be a good father to their child. She wanted to be the fool who insisted that her baby would never bite another toddler, would never throw a brick through a window, would never traffic meth if it came to that, but please, God, don’t let it come to that.
“Babe,” Ben said. “You’re crying.”
Charlie wiped her eyes. She wasn’t just crying. She was about to start sobbing. She could count on one hand the number of times she had cried like that in front of her husband, and they generally involved a crushing Duke Blue Devils loss on the basketball court.
“Chuck?” He knelt beside her chair. “Are you okay?”
She wasn’t okay. She was bawling. Her eyes burned. Her nose was running.
He asked, “Do you want a tissue?”
“There’s a pack in my purse.”
He stood up to retrieve her purse by the door.
Charlie’s heart flipped.
The small white box.
The plan already out the window.
This wasn’t how she had planned to tell him, but this was how it was going to happen. She was going to be crying and he was going to open her purse and see the pregnancy test and then he would look back at her and— The phone rang.
Charlie nearly leapt from her chair.
Ben handed her the purse as he walked to the phone. “Hello?”
Charlie closed her eyes. She listened to his end of the call.
“When?” Ben asked, then, “How many?” then, “Okay.”
He ended the call.
Charlie opened her eyes.
Ben had put the receiver down on the counter. He’d kept his hand on it like he needed to hold onto something.
Charlie gathered from his serious expression that he had caught a murder case.
Which meant that now was the worst possible time to tell him her news.
She asked, “Do you need to go?”
“I have to wait for the fire department to secure the structure. They don’t have all the details yet.” Ben sat back down at the table. He held onto her hand again. “The cinder-block apartments.”
Charlie felt her heart stop mid-beat.
“They’re only cinder-blocks on the outside. The rest is wood.”
“What are you saying?”
“There was a fire,” Ben said. “The whole place burned down. Six people are dead.”
Charlie put her hand to her mouth. Flora. Maude. Leroy.
Ben said, “A kid named Oliver Reynolds was caught leaving the scene. He was driving the meth van they’ve been looking for. The cops found a bottle in back matching the same bottle that was thrown through the window.”
Charlie felt every muscle in her body tense. “Bottle?”
“Yeah, there was a witness. She was out by the picnic tables smoking when she saw Oliver pull up. She watched him light up a rag on a bottle of gasoline and throw it into one of the first-floor units. That’s called a—”
“Molotov cocktail.” Charlie had told Flora about the incendiary device less than three hours ago. “What’s the name of the witness?”
“Like I said, the details are still coming in. I didn’t get a name, but she’s the girlfriend, or ex-girlfriend, of the kid who did it. They think it was some kind of lovers’ spat. She kept talking about that movie—”
“Endless Love.”
“Yeah,” Ben said, but he didn’t ask the obvious follow-up question, which was How did she know?
“Jesus.” Charlie covered her mouth with her hands. She was too afraid to speak. Flora had to be the witness. Flora had probably told Oliver to throw the bottle through the window. Hell, Flora had probably called the police so that Oliver would be caught red-handed.
And then she had told the cops the same thing that she had said to Charlie about the Quinn house being burned down: it was just like Endless Love.
She asked Ben, “Who was in the apartment that the fire bomb was thrown into?”
“The witness’s grandparents. They died almost instantly. I don’t have their names.”
Charlie had their names, but she couldn’t tell Ben because she had taken an oath to protect her client.
Her client who was now free to become emancipated.
Whose grandparents had burned alive in their own home.
Whose boyfriend was going to die in prison for arson and murder.
Whose best friend’s parents were going to lose their home.
Who had figured out how to neutralize a police investigation.
Who was going to make millions off a future land deal.
Who had reached into Charlie’s heart when she talked about that safe feeling you got when you put your head in your mother’s lap.
Charlie closed her eyes.
She thought about her mother’s gentle touch as she stroked back Charlie’s hair. Her soothing voice. Her gentle assurances. Her logical reasoning that no matter how bad things got, they would always, always get better. The sharp, hot slap of blood from when the trigger was pulled on the shotgun.
Charlie opened her eyes.
Good thing she hadn’t told Flora that part of the story.
Don’t worry about me, Miss Quinn. I’ll figure something out.
“Chuck?” Ben was staring at her, concerned. “Does the fire have something to do with what happened to you today?”
Charlie nodded. She was crying again, though not from hope this time, but from despair.
How complicit was she in the deaths of Maude and Leroy Faulkner? Oliver already had a record. He would go to prison for the rest of his life. Flora had not only managed to free herself, she had wrapped up the meth-trafficking case in a pretty bow. Any lawyer worth his salt could persuade a jury that the poor girl was a victim of her meth-dealing grandparents and her arsonist boyfriend.
And Charlie had practically written the girl a guide on how to do it.
“Chuck.” Ben pressed his lips to the top of her head. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m a terrible person.”
“Come on, don’t say that.”
“I am,” Charlie cried. How had she been so blind? “I’m going to make a horrible mother.”
“I’m not going to let you talk like that.” Ben pulled her hands away from her face. “Look at me, Chuck. I know you can’t tell me what happened today, but I’m here. I’m always here. Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. You and me. Always.”
“Do you promise?”
“Of course I promise.” Ben held tight to her hands. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” She kissed his hands. She thought about what might be growing inside of her belly. “With my last breath.”
Another corny line, but true.
Ben gave her his awkward grin. He wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’ve got at least an hour before they’re ready for me. What do you want for dinner?”
She shook her head. She couldn’t think about eating.
“Okay, Chef’s choice.” He stood up and went to the fridge. “Chicken? Hm … that chicken looks kind of gamey.”