Page 9 of The Burnt
During the investigation, it was discovered that Archie Whitcher had served time in jail for many of thechoiceshe’d made in his life, but in Declan’s opinion, he’d never paid a price for what had led up to his son’s death.
Until now.
* * * *
Declan parked across from Archie Whitcher’s house. He stared at the dilapidated bungalow. He pictured what the place would have looked like earlier in the day with squad cars, paramedics and forensics vehicles blocking the road. He imagined bystanders trying to get a look at the victim as he was wheeled away in a body bag. Investigators would have been comparing notes on what they had found and what was said. Now everything was quiet. Police tape surrounded the darkened home, marking it off as an active crime scene. It was the only evidence that something out of the ordinary had happened here. Surprisingly, there didn’t even appear to be a manned police cruiser standing guard. Budgets being what they were thesedays, the force probably couldn’t spare a cop and car just to sit there and guard the empty house. Or maybe their priority wasn’t the death of a low-level criminal.
No matter what, in the light of the streetlamps, the house looked rundown and drenched in sadness, just as Declan remembered it the last time he’d been there.
Declan parked the van and clenched his teeth. He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.
Chapter Five
Charlie had made reservations at a new place in town, a seafood restaurant calledCarp Diem. He could see the humour in the name, but did the owners understand they’d named their dining establishment after an invasive trash species related to the common goldfish?
They arrived at the restaurant at precisely seven p.m.
“I’m sorry, but your table’s not quite ready yet,” the hostess said. “May I show you to the lounge until we’re able to seat you?”
Charlie shrugged. “Sure.”
As they entered the space, Carrie pointed at the bar and whispered, “Oh, my God.” It was a giant aquarium that ran the entire length of the room and reached from the floor to its clear glass top. As they took their seats, Charlie marvelled at the way the bar had been designed so that the fish swam in front of their legs and under the patrons’ drinks.
“What can I get you this evening?” the bartender asked.
Charlie looked at Carrie. “White wine?”
“A bottle of chardonnay, please,” she said to the man behind the tank. Charlie jumped as an octopus suction-cupped its way under his left hand.
By the time the octopus had moved on, the bartender had delivered their bottle and two wine glasses.
Carrie raised her drink. “To us and your new eight-legged friend.”
They clinked glasses.
“I’m sorry Declan couldn’t make it,” Charlie said. “I was hoping that you’d have some time to get to know him a bit better.”
Carrie smiled. “That man seems to really like his work.”
“Yeah. You can say that again.”
“Well, it’s probably for the best that he isn’t here because there’s something I want to talk to you about,” she said, sliding her hand onto his.
Charlie remembered the last time she’d said that, when she thought she was pregnant. His expression must have betrayed his thoughts.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not gonna have a baby.”
The moment was interrupted by the hostess. “We’re ready for you. If you’ll follow me.”
She led them to a small table stuffed in the corner of the dimly lit dining room. A stream of bubbles moved steadily up the clear glass walls and swirling lights danced on the ceiling giving the impression of dining underwater.
“I wonder if the little mermaid will be our server tonight?” Carrie asked.
A woman in a glittering top and sea-shell breastplates approached and introduced herself.
“My name is Ariel, and I’ll be taking care of you this evening.”
Charlie choked on his wine. Carrie pounded him on the back until he could breathe again.
