Page 100 of Oliver

Charming Charlie’s - best seafood in town

Holy shit. Is my or Dixie’s Charming Charlie affiliated with a fucking restaurant instead of a damn boat?

The blaring horn of another car breaks me from my reverie, and I press on the gas before wrenching on the wheel and flipping a bitch.

My reward is a middle finger pressed to the glass from the asshole I pass now going the opposite direction.

It’s lost on me though as I pull into the empty lot.

The old, faded words emblazoned on the side are so innocent compared to Charlie’s messages but it can’t be a coincidence that there’s a goddamn restaurant with the same name as the monster. I mean, c’mon, how many Charming Charlie’s exist to begin with.

I can’t ignore the pulse of excitement as I exit the vehicle and approach the building. It’s quiet but for the occasional car passing by and the wind whistling in my ears.

Since the place is boarded up, I can’t go inside. Instead, I walk around the perimeter.

This wasn’t a fancy place, obvious to see by the size and picnic tables pushed against the windows facing the water.

The placement though probably brought in a lot of business, hungry families who didn't want to go far for a meal before heading back to their prime spots on the sand.

From here, I see people sunbathing while the water laps gently against the beach. It's rocky here and not conducive to enjoying the sand but a small patch leads up to the restaurant.

Unfortunately, there isn’t anything pointing to Charming Charlie, skeevy asshole but I have hope that this might bring more information. If I can track it down.

With a small smile, I pass back around the building and jump out of my skin when an old man lurking under the eave barks, “What are you doing here? This is private property.”

Clasping my chest, I gasp, “I’m sorry. I, uh, I just wanted to see the view.”

The man crinkles his brow, creating a road map of wrinkles as he eyes me like I’m a fucking serial killer, which believe me the irony doesn’t escape my notice before waving to my car. “Go.”

“Okay,” I whisper, stepping off the curb to avoid getting close to him. He’s old enough to be my damn grandfather but I’m still cautious as I pass.

When I turn back, he’s still watching me with an eagle eye. Although he doesn’t give me the creep factor, I know I have to be careful.

Charming Charlie may be dead, but there are more predators out there and if this one likes to dabble, I just played my hand.

I’m hoping being out in the open in broad daylight matters but I also know it’s completely fucking stupid to do so. What can I say, I’m desperate.

“Are you, um, the owner?” I ask, waving at the facade.

He scratches the gray stubble, peppering his cheeks and says, “What do you care? Another damn kid trying to defile the place. I don’t need your kind around here.”

“No, no,” I rasp through the knot in my throat. “I wanted to…speak to you about buying it.”

Yeah, I have no idea where I’m going with this, but it flew out of my mouth before I could think it through.

“Buy it?” His tone of voice is borderline rude, and I muster a smile, saying, “You know with my parent’s help.”

This eases him somewhat and he relaxes his shoulders. “It’s not for sale.”

“Oh.” Licking my dry lips. I glance at the sign once more and say, “I bet it was really cool. You know? Lots of good food and, um, atmosphere.”

His eyes glaze and he follows my gaze, saying, “My daughter. She loved to cook, you know? Loved people…”

“So, what happened?” I whisper hoping to keep him going but afraid to break his spell.

He lowers his head and murmurs, “Charlie? She disappeared.”

My heart sinks and I will back the wobble in my lip. Another victim? Wow. What a heartless psycho. As much as I want to commiserate with this man still mourning his daughter, if I do, I know he’ll be suspicious.

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