Chapter 26: Sweet Little Lies

If she were legally recognized as a living person, Charlotte Charles' resume would be rather bizarre. In her first life, she acted as caretaker to two agoraphobic adults. In her second, she found herself filling the roles of Pie Hole business partner, personal assistant to a pair of synchronized swimming stars…and bookstore clerk. Hobbies included: honey-harvesting, solving murder mysteries, and learning multiple languages.

Chuck could not explain it all if she wanted to. And she absolutely did not want to.

For the Alive Again Adventurer had committed to maintaining a smokescreen that would blind everyone in her life to what she was doing…

In the eyes of Halima, she was but a graduate frolicking through Europe alone. As far as her family knew, she spent her time buried in books at the public library. And Ned…well, he believed she was lying low, rather than lying by omission…

"You know, I like a fedora as much as the next guy," Jimmy Neptune said to her. "But if you ask me it's a crime to hide a face like that."

"Nobody asked you," Lily griped over her vodka tonic. It was Darling Mermaid Darlings policy to never drink and dive. Drinking before their first media appearance, however…

"I was just making conversation," Jimmy grumbled.

"Well how about you ease up on the small talk and focus on your job?"

Seeming to sense that this was turning into a hostile work environment, Jimmy made himself scarce.

Once he had left the dressing room, Chuck pulled off her wide-brimmed disguise, all the better to glare at her mother.

"What?" said Lily. "You want him peeking under that Carmen Sandiego hat and figuring out who you really are?"

"Oh please, he never even met Charlotte Charles. And besides…" She settled back against the bureau, which was scattered with fragrant paints and powders. "This spiciness you got going is several Scovilles higher than usual. Methinks it has less to do with him and more to do with facing the world for the first time in decades."

In an instant, Chuck was awash with regret. Somehow stating this fact out loud seemed to give it the weight of a concrete block. Vivian dropped down into her chair as if it were a fainting couch. Lily downed what was left of her drink…

"…which is small beans, in the grand scheme of things! I mean, if I can come back from the dead, and you two can come all the way here together, then this…? This is nothing you can't handle. Don't even try to tell me otherwise because it's a lie. And we don't lie to each other anymore."

That, in itself, was a lie. But it seemed to do the trick…

Moments later, the Darlings stood before a baker's dozen of reporters and announced their comeback. Chuck cringed from her shadowy corner as she watched them stumble over the first question, about their premature retirement. But it was Vivian who soon rallied, angling her head coyly as she said:

"Always leave them wanting more, dear…"

All things considered, it went rather well. But as they left the building, bubbly with victory and champagne, they were startled to find a cluster of people huddled against the cold, seemingly waiting for them.

For a moment there was a tense silence…and then the group began to cheer, holding out posters and autograph books, clamoring for photographs and hugs…

"We have to talk to more people?" Lily muttered.

"They're not people," Jimmy replied, his surprise giving way to glee. "They're fans!"

He ushered them forward, and Chuck stepped back, feeling more like a proud parent in that moment than their child…

But her joy veered sharply into alarm as a gust of wind whipped her hat off. Chuck was momentarily blinded by a camera flash, before she caught it and shoved it back onto her head.

Neither of the Darlings noticed, so she said nothing of it. It would only worry them and there was really no need. Who would pay attention to a lowly personal assistant…?

XXX

The Pie Maker did not like the idea of firing a gun, any more than he liked the idea of using his powers on someone – even in self-defense. Still, he could not deny that he welcomed the sense of distance that a weapon created, between himself and the act. There was no need to touch anyone, or to even be particularly close to them. All he had to do was pull the trigger…

Ned wondered how Emerson and Eddie might react if he were the one to save the day. It would come as a shock, no doubt, since they thought him so incompetent he could not be trusted to help protect the ones he loved.

But no matter. He had a plan of his own…

"You want me to do what now?"

"Stay with the Snooks? Just for a while, until the coast is clear."

"And what about the cuddle bugs?"

"Already taken care of," he said, sliding a piece of spinach quiche across the counter. In the glow of the cherry lights overhead, he could see the last wisps of steam coming off it. "There's a farm upstate – don't look at me like that I know how it sounds – they pet sit for people on vacation. It's really pretty out there. And safer than here. Much like your parents' palatial estate…"

Olive scoffed. She did not seem to notice the conciliatory quiche, and he feared it was getting cold.

"First of all, I'd rather go to the farm. Second, what kind of manager leaves right before Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas? That is peak pie time!" Ned started to assure her he could handle it alone (assuming she was even gone that long) but she cut him off. "Third, I taught you how to point and shoot. How many times do I need to tell you –?"

"I'm not trying to protect you. I'm…trying to get your mom and dad to protect you…"

Olive fixed Ned with a look that reminded him what kind of people he was talking about. He heaved a defeated sigh and nudged the plate towards her. She reached out to take it, he thought, but instead took his hand, pressing her thumb into it as if trying to find the pressure point.

"You're scared he'll hurt me, worse than before. I'm scared he'll hurt you. You'll feel better if I'm somewhere safer; I'll feel better if I'm here."

Ned contemplated their hands for a moment. It was a strange thing, how touch averse he once had been…and how much he needed it now. "Maybe there's room for compromise."

"How much room?" she asked, pulling away so she could pick up a fork.

"Room enough for us to get out of here and let Eddie handle Dwight. He's the one who lured him back for that stupid souvenir."

"What about Emerson? He's not one to run."

The Pie Maker huffed a humorless laugh, remembering a time when the PI did just that – the day Chuck came back.

"He's only trying to help us. If we're not here there'll be nothing left to fight Dwight for."

"Except his car."

"Yeah…" he mused, only half serious. "He definitely loves that car more than us."

Olive snickered a little and finally took a bite of her dinner. He watched her face light up in delight for a minute, before prompting:

"So we have a deal. Halloween night. We slip out under cover of darkness and get as far away from Papen County as possible."

At that, a spasm of dismay passed over her face. But something in his expression must have indicated that this was not a suggestion to be countered.

Olive gave a small nod instead. "Sounds like a plan…"

XXX

"The hell you mean, the trail went cold?"

"I mean the last guy to report a Dwight sighting – the one who sent that picture – he just turned up in a morgue."

Emerson stood up with the quickness of someone who had just been informed of a bed bug infestation. Agitated, he moved to peek through the blinds of his office window, but the only activity he spied was a waitress hurrying into the dim sum restaurant downstairs. If Dwight realised he was walking into a trap then that defeated its entire purpose. Worse, he knew their exact location, and it seemed they had lost track of his.

"I thought you said you had your best guys on it."

"The best guys I could find at short notice," Eddie said. "Most of them are dead or retired – so basically dead inside."

Emerson turned round and planted his hands on the surface of the desk.

"Well if I'd known that I might not have let you talk me into this cockamamie little scheme. Now we have no idea where Dwight is, or when he's gonna strike."

"We know he's close. We know his best bet is take Ned or Olive hostage - maybe both. We know he wants the watch, and I've got a decoy at the ready. All we have to do is sit tight and wait for him to make his move."

"You seem awfully calm considering the man's proven he has no problem puttin' a hurtin' on our people. And with the bad blood between you he'll be more than happy to shed blood out of spite. What's to say he won't do some lastin' damage?"

Eddie stood now, his mouth set in a grim, determined line. He exhaled hard through his nose, and replied: "That's a risk I'm willing to take."

He turned to leave, tossing an instruction over his shoulder about their final reconnaissance trip. As soon as he had closed the door behind him, Emerson picked up the phone and dialed the Pie Hole. That was not a risk he was willing to take...

"Hi, you've reached the -"

"It's Cod. You might wanna pull up a chair and sit down for this, Dough Boy, I got somethin' to tell you. Dwight – "

"Is heading back here. We know."

"...how?"

"We know you, and we know when you're being weird. Which is hardly ever so it's hard to miss."

Emerson harrumphed, begrudgingly impressed that they had used their deductive detective skills on him.

"Fine, you got me. And I'm...apologetic about keeping you in the dark. But Eddie was under the impression you'd get spooked and ruin the element of surprise. I'm under the impression that forewarned is forearmed."

"We're way ahead of you, Cod!" Itty Bitty piped up. Apparently she had been listening in. "We've got a plan. Granted, it's not the macho man last stand you two had in mind. But it's our safest bet."

The PI lowered himself back into the warm, welcoming leather of his chair. "I'm listenin..."

A/N: Next time on 'The Facts Are These': two old frienemies meet again...