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Charlie knew something had happened the instant Lou showed up at the door to the cabin where he was staying. He had grown up in Value, after all. He knew every cabin owned by his family.
This particular one was at the back of George and Ronnie’s place. They hadn’t used it in years, and there were grasses grown up around it almost as tall as a man.
There was no heat, no air, and very crude running water. But it was a safe place for him to hole up while he decided what to do next. He had to make certain Celia and Cameron were all right.
Safe.
He hadn’t missed the man Lou had said was roaming around Value. Lou had convinced Charlie to go looking for Glen Washington. They’d found the guy and followed him to a bar on the outskirts of Value just the night before.
They hadn’t left until Jeff Hall, one of Clay Addy’s top deputies, had pulled in to pick his wife up after her shift.
Charlie was a fool, but not a stupid one.
He’d also recognized Verity Smalls inside. He’d had two dates with that woman ten years ago, before he’d gotten scared and called things off. Veri had been too close to the TSP for his comfort.
The last thing he’d needed was her finding out about Celia back then. Or recognizing him now.
No. From the moment he’d taken his niece, he’d devoted his life to hers.
There hadn’t been much time for women, that was for sure.
“Lou, why the hell do you have blood all over you?”
“You’re my lawyer, right?”
“Hell, no. We’re wanted by the damned FBI and TSP, you idiot. I’ve no doubt been disbarred by now. What the hell did you do?” For a moment, Charlie was certain Lou had done something to hurt the sheriff. Or Celia. Or anyone who Lou thought was harmful to Bailey. “Who did you hurt?”
“I stabbed him. He mentioned my girl, and I just stabbed him, and there were people everywhere watching me.”
Charlie cursed. Lou could have led the damned police right to him. “Did someone see you? Follow you?”
“No. I turned off my lights and waited to see, six miles back. And it happened on Boethe Street.”
Charlie snorted at that. A man could stab fifteen people on Boethe Street this time of night, and it would take four hours for the police to even be called, let alone arrive at the scene. “Did you kill him?”
Before everything that had happened to him, Charlie would have been horrified by the question. But now? Charlie had a new philosophy.
Survival of the fittest. At least until he knew everything was all right for Celia.