Chapter 5

Don waited for the child to come out the other end of the dinosaur. "Quantico would be proud," he muttered. "Maybe she's making a pass to another kid somewhere in the region of its liver."

Megan laughed, then immediately sobered. She looked at Don. "You don't think that's really happening?"

He grinned back. "I hope not. I'd never make it undercover as a 4-year-old girl."

Megan watched the nanny. Reading a book today. Must be a student. She was taking notes in the margin. "So have you heard from your Dad, or Charlie?"

"Swingset. This is going to make me dizzy." Don glanced briefly toward Megan. "Dad called last night. Charlie needs to stay a couple of more days to finalize…everything. They booked a flight back Friday. You know that Charlie took his lap top, so he could finish up for us on the flight down?"

Megan nodded.

"I guess he used it to search for Sam Carver's biological parents. He thinks he found his father, in the area, and he wants to rent a car and drive out there today."

Megan frowned. "Why?"

"Dad said they have to wait until Thursday for the…cremains, anyway, and Charlie can't sit still. He says the guy should know."

"Well, yeah, I guess so. But you'd think the local authorities would take care of that."

"They probably would, if Charlie gave them the information and asked them to. But the papers Sam left made it pretty clear who to notify, and he…was…an adult. The notarized list says 'I have no biological family'. Charlie just looked because he's going crazy, and Sam never actually said that his parents were deceased, just that they were estranged."

"Did your Dad say how Charlie is taking all this?"

Don's shoulders slumped, and he slid down a little further in the seat. "He's worried. You know Dad, he's always worried."

Megan smiled fondly as Don went on. "But, I guess the…disconnection? I guess the hospital was really bad."

"I can imagine."

Don looked at her. "I don't think you can. Dad said Charlie slammed a doctor halfway through a wall."

Megan's eyes widened. "Charlie?"

Don looked back at the playground. "Charlie. Dad says he seems to swing between extremes, non-responsive or explosive." He grimaced. "Poor choice of words."

"Is he eating? Sleeping?"

Don shrugged. "Dad says not enough of either. He was in the shower last night when I called, so I didn't get to talk to Charlie. I thought he might call me back…"

"This would be difficult for anyone," Megan assured him. "It sounds like Charlie's reactions are normal. For now."

He raised his eyebrows, questioning.

"It's just that the Charlie I know is so…tender, so vulnerable and sensitive. I think he might have some difficulty progressing through the normal grieving process."

Don bit off a short, sarcastic laugh. "No kidding. You should have seen him when Mom died."

"Then you know some signs to watch for." She sighed. "I just hate to see things like this."

"He'll be okay." Don spoke firmly, tried to make himself believe it. "It's only been a couple of days."

Megan suddenly sat a little straighter in the SUV next to him. "Hey."

His eyes searched the playground. His kid was still on the swings. "What?"

"Why would you take notes in a book that looks like a novel? Students scribble notes in the margins of textbooks. And why would you take notes, and then give the novel to another nanny?"

"Maybe we should find out. They're still just sitting there. See if you can get an I.D. on the other nanny."

Megan was already focusing the digital camera.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Alan thought his heart would stop when he saw the rifle. Even though it wasn't pointed at them. The old man was just holding it, while he stood on the porch of a house that looked like it should be condemned, and looked down at them standing in the mud.

"That's fur enough. What you be wantin' here?"

He was surprised Charlie could find his voice. He wasn't at all sure that he could. "Please, are you Ed Carver?"

The rain started dropping again, but the old man didn't invite them any closer. "Yep."

"Do you have a son, a son named Samuel? About my age?"

The rifle raised, just enough to make Alan grab Charlie's arm. "Did, once. No good. Kicked him out. Kicked his mother out, too, a year later. Bitch took off with some rancher. Don't know where either one of 'em is, now. Pretty sure she's dead, though. Don't care. You got business with one of them, you just go on and leave."

Alan pulled on Charlie's arm. Leaving was a good idea.

"I'm just here to give you some information." Charlie turned to his father. "Dad, get in the car, out of the rain." He looked back at the old man on the porch. "Can I come a little closer?"

"No. You just say yer piece."

Charlie hesitated. This was not something he wanted to say, let alone yell across a mudlot. Alan wouldn't go to the car, get out of the rain. He was going to get sick.

"Sam…Sam passed away, a few days ago." Charlie marveled at the soundness of his own voice. "I could tell you about…"

The old man advanced a step, the rifle went up another inch. "That boy is a A-dult. I ain't responsible for his debts, no more. You can't make me pay nuthin."

That stunned Charlie into silence.

"We're not here for money, sir," Alan finally said. "My son would just like to tell you, about yours…"

The old man's eyes flickered between them. "That yer boy?"

Alan nodded.

His heart stopped again when the rifle came completely up to the shoulder, and the old man drew a bead on Charlie. "You best git him on out of here, then. He's trespassin."