The Right Kind of Wrong (15 page)

I take the article from Vince. "Bullshit. No one just disappears into thin air. Something happened to him."
 

"Charlie Pierce was a charmer. Where your grandfather was responsible and logical—Charlie lived on reckless abandon." Dr. Adams stands in the entrance to the room. His voice startles me. He joins us at the table and picks up the articles we were examining.
 

"What happened to Charlie?"

"No one really knows. There's always been speculation but the day he went missing was the last day anyone in this town saw or heard from him. It's like he evaporated."

I push further. "What do
you
think happened?"
 

Dr. Adams sighs. "I tend to think the simplest reason is usually the right one. People are not so very complex, Ms. Pierce. It is in our nature to want what we can't have, possess what we were not born with. Charlie Pierce was born with a great many gifts, but there were plenty of people he knew who did not appreciate those gifts."

"Why wasn't he investigated? I don't understand how a man could just go missing and no one seemed to give a shit about it.?" My voice is shaky.
 

"You don't understand what it was like then. It's not like it is now. I don't know what else to tell you. I don't know what happened to Charlie but I suggest you take what information you can from these files and speak to someone who may know more than you think."

"Who's that? Grandma?"
 

"Parker Walsh."

I stare at him with my mouth open. "Uncle Parker? What could he possibly know?"
 

"Your Uncle Parker is a fly on the wall in this town. He's quiet and unsuspecting but he knows a lot more about things than he lets on. He and your grandfather were close back in the day."

I'm so stupid. Of course. I should've known to talk to Uncle Parker. This was Journalism Basics 101. I missed the mark.
 

 
"I guess that's where we're headed next then."
 

Dr. Adams gets up from the table. "I'll give you a little more time with the boxes but it will all be here if you need to come back. I wish you luck. I hope you find what you're looking for."
 

My head is swimming. I mumble a "thanks." I pull out a stack of rubber banded papers.
 

I flip through them, my eyes searching for something, anything that can help me. Most of the articles are endless commentary on the war or my grandfather's heroism. Finding out what the hell happened to Charlie is the only thing I can think of. Something speaks to me, yet makes me uneasy about his disappearance.
 

Vince pushes the article I'm reading away from my face. "Kara?"

I look up. "What?"

"Stop. You're tearing through these articles like you're never going to see them again. What's going on?"

"Nothing," I snap. "I just need to find out what happened to Charlie."

"I want to figure it out too, but I don't think we're going to find the answer in these boxes. We’ve already spent three hours here, maybe it’s time to call it quits for today?"
 

I look at him through wild eyes. "We have to figure this out Vince! I don't know how to explain it. I..."
 

He takes my hand in his. "You just want answers. I know. Let's go talk to your Uncle Parker and see if he can help us out. We can come back tomorrow if we need to."

I don't want to leave the boxes. It feels like defeat. What if I'm missing something? What if the answer is right in the middle of a stack of papers?
 

"Fine," I concede.
 

We stack the papers and put them back in the box. I find Dr. Adams in his office by the staircase.

"We put everything away. We might be back tomorrow. Thank you for your help."

Dr. Adams nods. "Good luck."
 

When we leave the Historical Society I breathe in the sun and fresh air and let it wash over me.
 

"I guess we go to Heritage Hall Estates now. It's only a block down from here. When we get there, I can talk to Parker and maybe you can talk with some of the veterans there?"
 

"That's a great idea, except, how am I supposed to know who to talk with?"

I find my cell phone in my purse and find the notepad app.
 

"I kept the names on here, in case we decided to spring an impromptu visit on them. I'll text it to you."

Vince's laughter ripples. "You are full of surprises."

"If you're referring to my organization and knack for keeping things handy, then thank you."
 

"Here." He pulls a pen from his bag and places it in the palm of my hand. "This is special. It has a camera and voice recorder built in. Just push the little black button and it will start recording."

"Why are you giving me spy shit?"

"So you can get footage and answers from Parker while I do the same with the veterans. That way, both can be used in the project. Just don't forget to ask your uncle if you can film. I made that mistake once. Never again."

I chuckle. As if I've never had to ask permission to use someone's quote or name in a story. "Got it, director Gage."

He stops and beams at me. "Hey. That rolls off the tongue pretty easily, doesn't it?"

I grab his hand and pull him along. "Don't let it go to your head."

C
HAPTER
N
INETEEN

Hospitals. Retirement communities. Assisted living facilities. They all have the same smell—fear. Fear of losing someone. Fear of losing yourself. I try to shake the feeling so I can focus on getting the answers I need from Parker.

"Call me when you're done," Vince says when we get into the elevator.
 

"Okay. Good luck."

"You, too."
 

Parker's room is on the third floor and he's sitting in a wheelchair near the window when I peek into his room.
 

"Anything exciting out there?" I ask.

Parker looks up and sees me. His laughter is music to my ears.
 

"Well, I'll be damned." He wheels himself over to me.

I lean down and hug him hard. "Hi Parker."

"There were some rumors you might be in town."

"Oh, yeah? Nice to know people are talking about me."

He waves me off. "Just your grandmother. She misses you, you know. I do, too."

I avoid his eyes. "I know."
 

He seems so much older than when I was with him last. The wrinkles in his face and the skin on his arms remind me that time hasn't done him any favors. Even the blue of his eyes has faded into a dull mutation of what they were.
 

"You hate it here, don't you?" I ask.

"Not much I can do about it." Just like that. So matter-of-fact.
 

"I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "You ain't got nothing to be sorry about. It's the price of getting old."

"But if I wouldn't have left—Grandpa would still be here, you wouldn't have—"
 

"Stop that. Your grandfather was sick and he would have died whether you stayed or not. And this." He gesture around him. "This would've happened sooner or later. So stop feeling sorry for all of us. You did exactly what you were supposed to do."
 

I can’t argue. "You sound just like Grandpa."

This garners a laugh. "So, I don't reckon you're here to talk about life in a retirement home."

I shake my head. "No, we're working on a project about Grandpa. Thought maybe you could help. Would you mind answering some questions and can I record it?" I hold up the pen camera. Not that he has any idea what it is.
 

"Ah, that's right. Your grandmother mentioned you and some boy were here doing some research or something. I don't know what I can do for you, but I'll try. Are you sure you want this ugly mug on camera?"

I chuckle. Some things never change. Parker's dry sense of humor and his ability to tell people things without sugarcoating them is what I loved about him growing up. I figure he can handle it if I just tell him what I want. "Apparently someone forgot to inform me that grandpa had a twin brother."

Parker sighs. "I told Wesley you'd find out eventually. He didn't believe me. He thought if we kept it quiet, no one would be none the wiser."
 

"Why didn't he want anyone to know? Wasn't he close to him? Didn't he miss him? What happened?"

Another sigh. "It's complicated, Kara."

"So then explain it. I don't understand why everyone decided it was okay to lie to me my entire life. I mean, Dad never mentioned him either."

"That's because your father doesn't know."
 

My mouth drops open. "He doesn't know? What the hell is going on, Parker?"

He puts a shaky hand to his head. "I promised your grandmother."

"Promised her what?"

"That I wouldn't discuss this with you."

I grab his hand. "Please, tell me what this is all about."

He shakes his head. "It's not my place."

"Can you at least tell me why he left?"

Parker sighs. "The day Charlie left, James stopped by Wesley and Elaine’s house, which he never did. He hated your grandmother. Did everything he could to avoid her. But this day, he was so angry. Stormed in the house, and didn't even look at me. He grabbed your grandmother's arm, made her go out to the porch. They started yelling at each other. I tried to listen by the window, but I couldn't hear much of anything. Charlie pulled up a few minutes later. The three of them were yelling. Charlie said something that really pissed James off and then I heard a smack. James hit Charlie so hard it was like a crack of thunder. Your grandmother stepped between them and Charlie left. That was the last time I saw him."

This must have been the catalyst. I need to know what happened. "You didn't hear anything at all? Even though they were yelling?"

"I caught words here and there, but then they started to come back in and I went to the back. I didn't want to be on James' bad side. I was working for him at the time. He told me to tell your grandmother she better figure out how to keep her mouth shut and if she stepped out of line he'd take care of her."

I gasp. My hand goes straight to my mouth to hold it in. "He threatened Grandma? Why would he do that? Didn't you want to know what happened? How could a father just let his son walk away and not try to find him? I don't get you people!" Even as I say it, I'm thinking of my own father. He did exactly that. He let me walk right out of his life without a fight.

Parker squeezes my hand. "James was a complicated man. I'm not condoning anything, but there are things about that relationship I never understood. And of course your grandfather was upset that Charlie left. He was devastated. He tried to find him when he got back from the war, but honey, people that really, truly want to get lost, do. It was easy not to be found in those days."

I take a deep breath. "So you don't know where he went?"

Parker shakes his head. "I wish I did. Maybe things would be different. I think it's time for you to talk to your grandmother."

"I think you're right." Parker wipes at tears I don’t even realize are streaming down my face. Droplets land on my arm. I put my arms around him. "Thank you for being honest."

"Oh, honey. I wish we all could have been more honest with you a long time ago. Now, what is this I hear about the boy you're with?"

Leave it to Parker to change the subject quickly. I beam. "I don't know yet. He's kind of been a surprise."

"Yeah? How's that?"

"I kind of hated him at one point. Turns out, I think I kind of like him."

Parker smiles. I swear his eyes get a bit brighter. "Funny how that happens. You should tell him."

"We'll see," I say as Vince appears in the doorway. Talk about good timing. I wave him into the room.
 

"Parker, this is Vince. Vince, this is my Uncle Parker."

Vince shakes Parker's hand. "Nice to meet you, sir."

Parker's eyebrows go up. "You able to keep up with this one?" He gestures to me.

Vince smiles. "I'm trying."

Parker winks and turns his attention to me. "I hope I'll see you soon. Good luck with your project."

"I'm guessing we'll need it. Thanks."

When Vince and I make it to the car we say the same thing at once.

 
"You get anything?"
 

We laugh in unison. And even though it feels like my family is slowly falling apart at the seams, things with Vince and I are looking up.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY

When we get back to my grandmother's house, we're assaulted by an apple and cinnamon aroma wafting from the kitchen. I look for telltale signs of Grandma baking when we enter the house but she isn't in there. Instead she is in her chair in the living room, her head back, snoring.
 

I put my finger to my lips and we climb the stairs in silence until we're safely behind my bedroom door.
 

"Be right back." Vince slips out of the room. I glance in the mirror and fix my ponytail before he comes back. I go to the dresser and slather on lip-gloss. The door opens and Vince closes it softly, his shiny, silver mac under one arm.

"I want to show you the footage I got at the retirement home."
 

Vince points to the first guy talking. "That's Daniel Carew. Listen to him talk about your grandfather."

The old man has his arms crossed and a scowl glued on.
 

"What did you think about the Pierces?"

The old man stares and I can tell Vince makes him uncomfortable by the way he shifts in his chair on the video.
 

"They got everything they ever wanted just handed to ‘em. I won't say I liked them boys ‘cause I didn't. Especially Wesley. He was hoity toity, thinking he was better then the rest of us. Can't say I was a bit surprised or disappointed when old Charlie disappeared, either." Daniel takes a tin can from the drink holder beside him and spits something black into it. Gross.