Lisa Gardner - Hide

"Beautiful dog," he murmured, waiting until Bella gave up barking long enough to sniff his hand. Another tentative sniff, then she stepped toward him, wagging her tail.

Charlie, apparently, was a dog person. "Oh, there's a good girl. Aren't you beautiful? Look at those markings. You must be an Australian shepherd. Not a lot of sheep around here for herding, I'm afraid. Would you settle for taxis? What do you think? You look like a fast girl. I bet you catch a lot of taxis."

Bella seemed to think this was a fine idea. She pressed herself against Charlie, while eyeing me for approval. The man had totally and completely won over my dog.

He finally straightened from his squat, smiling ruefully as his knees creaked, and he had to grab my arm for support.

"Sorry," he said cheerfully "It's one thing to get down. Quite another to get up."

"What are you doing here?" I asked, voice sharp, making no apologies.

His blue eyes crinkled at the corners. He seemed to find my concern amusing. He held up both hands in a gesture of mea culpa. "Remember how I said you looked familiar?"

I nodded grudgingly

"I kept thinking about it, remembered from where. This park. You run through here with your dog. Generally a bit earlier than this, but I've spotted you quite a few times. I never forget a face, particularly a pretty one." He glanced down, tickled Bella under the chin. "Of course I'm talking about you, sweetheart," he crooned.

I couldn't help myself, I finally smiled. Then hastily pulled it together. "And why are you in the park so often?"

He jerked his head toward the corner of Atlantic Avenue. "Working with the homeless. Just because you don't have a roof over your head doesn't mean you should be denied the word of God."

I couldn't think of an argument for that.

"Anyhooo," he drawled, rocking back on his heels, cramming his hands into his pockets, "I'll confess, I've been looking for you."

I didn't say anything, but felt my pulse quicken as I went on high alert.

"You're not with the police," he stated.

No answer.

"But they took you to the crime scene." He cocked his head, regarding me steadily "So I figure maybe you're another kind of expert. Botanist, bone person. I don't really know anything, I just watch Court TV. But I am a good judge of people and I don't think you're a scientist any more than you're a cop. Which means… I'm thinking relative. Of one of those poor girls. But you're too young to be a mother. So maybe a sister? That's my theory, at least. you knew one of the girls whose body has been discovered, and for that I am very sad."

Very slowly, I nodded. Sister. That seemed close enough.

Charlie smiled. "Phew!" He made an exaggerated motion of wiping his brow "I really am blowing things out my arse, you know. Then again, more often than not, I'm right. The Lord has given me a gift. For now, I am using it for His work. Minute this gig is done, however, that's it. I'm hitting the poker tables. In my old age, I'm gonna get myself a Cadillac!"

His smile was too infectious. I found myself smiling back, while Bella pranced around us, clearly infatuated with her newfound friend.

"All right," I said. "So I'm a relative. What's your interest?"

Charlie sobered up instantly, shaking his head mournfully "I can't sleep. I know that might sound crazy. I'm a minister. If I don't know the true evil man is capable of, then who does? But I'm an idealist. The times I've been around genuine evil, I knew it. I could feel it, touch it, smell it. Christopher Eola reeked of it.

"But during all my years at Boston State Mental, I never suspected anything as terrible as a mass grave. I never walked the streets of Mattapan and imagined young girls were being stolen from their homes. Never walked through the woods of the property and thought for a second that I heard a young girl scream. And I used to walk those woods with great frequency. Lots of us did. It's one of the finest nature sanctuaries in the state; we would've been fools not to enjoy God's bounty. And that's what I felt when I walked through those fields, skirting the marshes, retreating into the forest-I felt honestly, genuinely, closer to God."

His voice caught. He looked up, pinning me with somber blue eyes. "It's shaken me to my very soul, young lady. If I could not feel the evil on those grounds, then what kind of minister am I? How can I be God's messenger when I was so blind?"

I didn't know what to say. I had never before had a minister come to me with a matter of faith. In the next moment, however, it became clear that Charlie Marvin was not looking for my opinion. He had already formed his own.

"It has become my obsession," he stated. "This grave at Boston State Mental, the souls of those poor girls. Where I have failed once, it is my duty not to fail again. I would like to outreach to the families, but they have not been identified yet. Except for you. So here I am."

I frowned, still uncertain. "I don't understand. What do you want?"

"I'm not here to demand, sweet child. I'm here for you to talk. About anything and everything you'd like. Come, have a seat. It's cold, it's late, you've come to the park instead of finding your warm, cozy bed. Clearly, you have something on your mind."

Charlie gestured to a waiting bench, then headed toward it. I followed reluctantly, not one for talking, and yet, oddly, hating for this meeting to end. Bella was happy. And I'd felt something unfurl inside of me in the presence of such a warm, easygoing man. Charlie Marvin did know the worst about humanity. If he could still find a reason to smile, then maybe so could I.

"All right," he said briskly, when he arrived at the bench and discovered I hadn't bolted yet. "Let's start with the basics." He thrust out his hand. "Good evening, my name is Charlie Marvin, I'm a minister, and it's a pleasure to meet you."

I played along. "Good evening. My name is Annabelle, I do custom window treatments, and it's a pleasure to meet you, too."

We shook. I noted that Charlie showed no reaction to my name, and why should he? But I felt giddy at having spoken my real name in public after twenty-five years.

Charlie took a seat. I followed suit. The hour was late, the park wet and deserted, so I unhooked Bella from her leash. She leapt up with grateful kisses, then was off racing along the trellis.

"So, if you don't mind me saying," Charlie was commenting, "you don't exactly sound as if you're from Boston."

"My family moved a lot when I was growing up. But I consider Boston home. Yourself?"

"Grew up in Worcester. Still can't say my R's."

That made me laugh. "So you're a local boy Wife, kids, dogs?"

"Had a wife. Tried for kids. Wasn't in God's plans. Then my wife got ovarian cancer. She passed away… oh, it's been a good twelve years now. We had a small house up in Rockport. I sold it, returned to the city. Saves me the commute-it's possible that I'm no longer the best guy behind a wheel of a car. My brain is fine. My hands, however, are a little slow to do what they're told."

"And you work with the homeless?"

"Yes, ma'am. I volunteer my time over at Pine Street. Help out with the shelter and the soup kitchen. Plus, I believe strongly in fieldwork. The homeless can't always find it in them to come to you, you gotta go to them."

I was genuinely curious. "So you come to places like this and, what? Preach? Buy soup? Hand out pamphlets?"

"Mostly, I listen."

"Really?"

"Really" He nodded vigorously "You think the homeless don't get lonely? Sure they do. Even the mentally disadvantaged, the economically forsaken have a basic need for human connection. So I sit with them. I let them tell me about their lives. Or sometimes we don't say anything at all. And that can be just as nice."

"Does it work? Have you 'saved' anyone?"