Opening the Tylenol bottle up, Megan took one of the chewable tablets and placed it in her hand. She filled up the glass half full of water. They both heard a creak in the living room, or some sort of rustling. "Sounds like Charlee might be up." With that she left the kitchen. No sooner than she had walked through the door, a little voice spoke.
"Megan?" Charlee inquired, head resting on the arm rest. The blanket that had been laying over her was now scrunched into a little ball to the side of the couch.
"Right here. How are you feeling?" Sitting down on the coffee table, she put the glass next to her and reached over to brush her hand over her forehead. She immediately frowned. "Hey Larry, can you get the thermometer out of the cabinet?"
"My head hurts."
"I know. I have some Tylenol. Maybe this will help so your head doesn't hurt as much." Charlee sat up, but swayed a little.
"Okay. I'm dizzy." Her little head leaned back against the couch.
A cabinet closed and Larry walked in and handed her the thermometer." You think her fever has gone up?"
"Yeah, I just brushed my hand over her forehead and she felt much warmer than about a half an hour earlier." Adjusting her ear so she could stick the ear thermometer in, she turned the device on. "See for yourself." Following suit, Larry put his hand lightly on her forehead.
"You're right, she definitely feels warm."
She gazed curiously at Charlee; the girl opened her eyes just a little. "How are you doing Charlee?"
"Tired." She yawned, and then closed her eyes again.
"I know. Just a little bit longer and then you can go back to sleep, okay? "
"K."
A few moments later the thermometer beeped, the reading 101.7 was a scary thought. Charlee's body temperature was almost to 102 degrees.
"What exactly do we do now?" Larry broke the silence.
"My sister Alyssa always got sick when we were younger. I remember that my mom would sit there all night with her, rubbing a wet washcloth over her forehead and face. "
"A washcloth it is then"
"Thanks." With him heading upstairs, Megan brushed her hand over Charlee's forehead again. Her body letting out a shudder, Megan sat beside her and reached over for the wadded up blanket.
"Megan?" Charlee's voice was softer this time; almost a whisper.
"Yes, Charlee."
"Can you stay here with me?"
"I'll be here all night if I have to." Her voice sounded dry and then Megan remembered the Tylenol. "Charlee. . . before you go back to sleep, let's take this medicine."
"I don't like medicine-" The young girl offered, not opening her eyes.
Smiling, Megan offered. "I don't know a person who does. Although this medicine is flavored." Footsteps followed down the stairs, then stopped. Larry was standing there on the steps, watching them.
Despite her sickness, her attention had peaked. "What flavor?"
"Cherry." She grabbed the water off the coffee table. "What do you say?"
It took a minute but Charlee opened her eyes a little. She tried to nod, but her little body swayed back and forth again. "Okay."
"Here. Open your hand." Her little hand opened slowly and Megan small pill in her hand. "Put this in your mouth and chew."
"Chew?" But by that time, she had already put the pill in her mouth without thinking much about it, and then chewed and swallowed in one motion. It was evident that the little girl was overcome by much sickness.
"Let's lie you down." Megan whispered, the girl clearly asleep. As she was about to move Charlee, when the young girl's head fell against her shoulder.
"Hey, Larry—" Half in greeting, as she tried to adjust—finding that she couldn't move.
"By the looks of it, Charlee looks rather comfortable. You on the other hand, not so much."
"Well, it's something that I could definitely get used to. Just think, Larry. One day we're going to have a little boy or girl who's probably going to do the same exact thing."
"And Charlee?" She looked down at her to make sure that she was truly asleep and wouldn't be able to overhear their conversation—at least not much.
"If we can prove that her mom has no involvement in this case, then she goes back to her." Megan rubbed at her forehead. "I don't know. Usually I would agree with this…but not this time."
"Rex Hughes, arrested for attempted robbery back in 98'—otherwise, he's been on the down low." Colby addressed the group, pushing the button on the screen.
"And his brother Talbert Hughes was picked up and arrested on some petty charges for attempting to steal some items in a gas station about a year later." Don offered, sitting down in his seat.
"Okay, so what about Joe Carlos? We know that he shot his own wife to cover up the fact that he took his own granddaughter." David took the remote into hand and enlarged the picture of Joe Carlos on the screen.
Colby walked back and forth. "Yeah…and a dirty money deal, but for what?"
"Besides for Charlee . . . in the letter we found in Antonio Harrison's house, he talks about how Andrea and Antonio can keep Charlee for as long as they're together. And we know that as long as their together, the money keeps flowing in." Don chimed in.
"Right. Except for we know that Antonio was put in jail for a year." Colby sat down on top of the desk, took a look through a file.
David added, shaking his finger. "Yeah, and Andrea took Charlee and ran."
"Or maybe, Joe Carlos doesn't do mistakes."
"Kind of like, two strikes and you're out?" Suggesting, Colby shrugged. Without looking up, he flipped through another page then closed the file.
"Yeah…maybe. But I'm thinking more along the lines of: the more mistakes on his account, the more exposed his plan is. I mean…he knew that his granddaughter disappearing on his watch was enough of a risk for someone to eventually find out." Standing up, Don brought photos and rap sheet of Rex and Talbert.
"Which we know did happen eventually, when Joe Carlos shot his own wife because she knew his plans, and maybe that he took Charlee…."
"But then why didn't he shoot his son as well?"
"Naturally, Suisan and Joe shared a house, and anything in that house was part his. Now the son on the other hand, has a different address and lives in a different house." Don rubbed his forehead, as if something wasn't adding up. "Hey, did you guys ever talk to Suisan Carlos?"
Shaking his head, Colby stood up. He was trying to make sense of this. "No, she woke up for a few minutes before we got there, but then was asleep for the remainder of our visit. There was no getting anything out of her."
"Well, it's a new day. Why don't you and David go over there and see if you can get something?"Colby and David both nodded and started heading out the door.
David knocked on the hospital door about thirty minutes later. "Knock knock. Mind if we come in?" Suisan Carlos was sitting up in bed, flipping through a magazine.
She looked up with a grim look on her face. "Depends on who I'm talking to."
Walking into the room, Colby stood beside him. Suisan looked much better than yesterday. "My name is Agent Sinclair, and this is Agent Granger. Mind if we ask you a few questions?"
"Ah, my son told me that you might be stopping by. How can I help you?" She put the magazine on her lap.
"We have a few questions regarding your husband."
"Anything you need, Agent Sinclair." Lifting her hands up, she stuck them back by her side. "I don't owe my husband anything for shooting me."
Flipping to a new page in his notebook, Colby also prepared to write. "Let's just start with what you do know."
Suisan hesitated momentarily as she adjusted slowly in bed. "I overheard my husband talking on phone about how Antonio had messed up. How he sent some people to go pick up Charlie to cover his mistake—"
Colby and David exchanged glances, to which Colby closed his notebook with a nod and went out the door with his cell phone in hand.
"And this all happened yesterday morning?"
"Yeah . . . he didn't hear me, until I started to back away from the hall. I accidently stepped on the creaky board." She shook her head with a half laugh "The board I asked my husband to replace many times."
"But he never did."
"No. I turned to run and got to the bedroom. I closed the door and locked it. I was planning to escape out the window when I forget there was key on the ledge on the top of the door. It wasn't hard for him to reach at all, so I opened the window up as if I were going outside and then ran underneath the bed."
"To make it look like you had gone out the window.
"Right. There's a corner of the house and then a forest like area behind our house that I planned on escaping to, and then I was going to run around to the nearest neighbor and call the police. That's when he found me, dragged me out and shot me."
"Okay. Did he happen to mention a name before your husband came after you?"
"He was talking to someone about two brothers who were supposed to pick up Nadia again, but they never showed up after going to pick her up."
David wrote something down with interest. "Thanks for your help. I think that's all we need for now, but if you think of anything—" David reached into his pocket, pulled out a card and handed it to her. "—let us know."