Code of Silence

  Code Of Silence

  J.L. Drake

  Code Of Silence

  Copyright © 2016 by J.L. Drake.

  All rights reserved.

  Second Print Edition: July 2016

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-706-7

  ISBN-10: 1-68058-706-4

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To those seeking answers, who never give up, who will hunt till the end.

  Thirty-Five Years Ago

  Stacy

  From the moment I laid eyes on the six–foot-three, brown-haired man who walked into the diner that Sunday morning, I knew he wasn’t from around here. A man like that stuck out. His broad shoulders had the guy next to him shifting down a stool so they didn’t have to touch. I nodded at Jack, who was about to serve him, to let him know I had it. I removed the pen from my ear, pulled out my note pad, and strolled over.

  “Hi there, what can I get you?”

  He closed his eyes as he rubbed his temples. “Just coffee.”

  “Coming right up.” I turned to pick up the coffee pot and checked out his reflection in the glass. He cursed quietly as he looked at his phone while I poured the dark brew and slid the mug over. “Here ya are.”

  “Thanks.” He yawned, and his head remained down. Friendly.

  I tapped my pointer finger on the counter. “My name is Stacy. If you need anything, just call.”

  “Yeah,” he grunted as he rubbed his head again. I reached under the counter and grabbed my purse, then took out my Tylenol and clicked the bottle down in front of him.

  My other customers waited, so I moved over to them and took their orders. After I got them situated and went back, he was gone. Under my pill bottle was a twenty.

  “Jack?” I called. He poked his head from behind the divider. “Did you see where that guy went? His bill was only a dollar, but…” I held up the twenty.

  “Nice! He left about five minutes ago. Looked like he was hung over or something.”

  The rest of my shift went quickly, and I never thought about the guy again until I left to walk the ten blocks to my tiny apartment, thinking of the twenty he had left me. Soon after that, I was passed out on the bed.

  Mondays were slow, like ‘jam a fork in your eye’ slow. There were only so many times a person could fill the salt shakers and restock the shelves. Jack’s radio pumped Cindy Lauper, and I sang along as I dried a glass.

  “Excuse me?” A voice broke into my song. I turned to find the man from yesterday in the same seat as before. I hopped off the counter and made my way over.

  “Coffee, right?”

  This time he stared right at me. My Lord, his eyes were a soft melty brown, like caramel with a light honey swirl. He gave me a tight smile. “Can I order pancakes along with it…please?”

  “Coming right up.” I handed Jack the slip, and he gave me a little wink.

  “Stacy, right?” he asked, then cleared his throat. I gave a little nod as I poured his coffee. “Charlie, nice to meet you.”

  “It is,” I stated. “Can I ask you something, Charlie?”

  “Sure.” He ripped a piece of paper and started to fold the edges down.

  I replaced the pot and looked right at him. “Where are you from?”

  “Phoenix.”

  “So what brought you to Nashville?”

  He continued to fold the paper even smaller. I watched in fascination for a few moments before he spoke. “Just felt like a drive.”

  Two guys came and sat at the other end of the counter. I recognized Will and sighed inwardly. “Stace!” Will called out as he took a seat. “French toast with extra whipped cream and lots of chocolate sprinkles. Thanks, doll.”

  Charlie looked up at me, then over to the guys. “Friends of yours?”

  “No.” I sighed as I scribbled Will’s order. “Let me get your food.”

  “Thank you.” He kept his eyes on the guys, who were loudly talking.

  I placed Charlie’s plate in front of him, then headed to give Will his.

  “Can I get you anything else?” I asked. As a reply, Will snagged my hand, pulled me forward, and dabbed my neck with whipped cream. “Will,” I sighed, “please don’t start today.”

  “Oh, come on.” He smiled. “I’m just playin’. You want me to clean it off for you?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Stacy?” Charlie looked unimpressed. “Could I get another refill?”

  “Yeah,” I called out, but Will caught my arm.

  “Who’s he?”

  “A customer.” I looked down at his grip and felt my patience wear thin. “Do you mind?”

  He slowly let go but stared at Charlie like a bull checking out his next rider. I pulled the pot free from its stand and forced a smile at Charlie.

  “How are the pancakes?”

  “Great, thanks.” He pushed his empty plate aside and sipped his coffee. I noticed he’d made a little origami bird. Sweet.

  “So are you sticking around here for a bit?” I didn’t know why I asked. There was just something about him that interested me.

  He tensed but then rolled his neck as if to relieve the tension. “Not sure yet.”

  “Well, I hope to see you around.” He glanced up at me, his eyes unreadable, but I knew with a guy like that there was more to his story then he’d ever let on. That was fine with me. All I cared about was that I made enough money to leave this damn town. I pulled out his bill and placed it next to him. “Stick around if you’d like.”

  He studied the bill. “This should be eleven sixty. Why is it free?”

  I kept my back to him as I rang up Will’s order. “You left too much yesterday.”

  “It was a tip—”

  “It was too large,” I interrupted.

  “That’s not for you to decide.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  “My tip, my decision.”

  I turned to look at him and wondered what his angle was. “Do you always leave such a generous tip?”

  “No.”

  “Then why?”

  “I was rude to you yesterday. I didn’t feel good, and you helped me out. I can leave you a tip if I want to.” He pulled out his wallet and left a twenty. “See you later, Stacy.”

  “Bye, Charlie.” I couldn’t help but stare at his large, lean body as he left the restaurant.

  And that’s how it went for three weeks. Charlie would come in, eat breakfast, leave a heavy tip, then disappear until the next day. There was always an unspoken attraction between us, though neither one of us acted on it. One day he didn’t show, and the day after. A month went by, and I realized my sexy stranger had vanished. It bothered me a lot, more than I thought it would. Sad. He interested me; he was way different than the guys in this town.

  “Thanks, Jack,” I called out as I opened my umbrella.

  “If you can wait, I’ll drive you home.”

  I stepped out into the rain. “Are you kidding? I love the rain.” He laughed as I waved goodbye.

  Three blocks from home, and my shoes were a soggy mess and I was frozen. I didn’t usually go out after work, but today the Red Piper looked inviting. I slipped inside and sagged into a chair at the end of the bar and ordered a hot rum. It went down a little too quickly. I wasn’t a drinker, and the liquor went straight to my head, but it sure warmed me right down to my wet toes.

  I didn’t bother with my umbrella as I meandered the rest of the way home. It was too hard to coordinate my feet and the shield. So instead I let the icy drops hit my face and fall freely down my coat. A homeless man sat next to a building, holding a piece of cardboard over his head to protect himself and his golden retriever. They both looked miserable. I handed him my umbrella and a few dollars. He was way worse off than I was. The guy nearly sobbed at the gesture and thanked me. I made a note to bring him some leftover food from the diner tomorrow.

  My place rarely looked as warm and inviting as it did at the moment I approached the door. I patted my pocket, then spat out a loud curse. “Shit, where the hell are my keys?” I started to cry; nothing ever came easily to me. My back pressed flat against the wall to find some kind of cover as I let the tears mingle with the cold raindrops. I didn’t regret the help I offered the old man, but right then I wished I had my umbrella back. I just wanted to break the door down and get into some warm clothes. I sank to the ground near the edge of the building where I could get a little shelter from the rain.

  After I gathered myself, I realized my neighbor would be home soon, and she had a spare key. I decided to wait for her instead of tromping back the ten blocks. She was due back in twenty. I could wait.

  “What happened to you, sweetheart?” Jack asked as I came in late for my shift. “I was worried when I got your call.”

  I still felt terrible. I couldn’t get warm. I didn’t get into my apartment until my neighbor got home from her shift at the hospital. “L
ong night,” I mumbled through a sore throat. My sweater wrapped around my too-small frame, I felt like my clothes were paper thin my bones ached so much.

  My fingers clutched the mug of green tea I hugged close to my chest as the little bell on the door rang. I dragged myself out of the kitchen and behind the counter.

  It’s him.

  “Wow, what happened to you?” Charlie asked as he took what was his usual seat a month ago. Fate was not on my side. Why, today of all days, would it send him here after all this time when I looked and felt like a total wreck? I didn’t answer him, I just poured him his coffee and ordered his pancakes. “Thanks.” He took a sip of his coffee. He eyed me then reached up to feel my forehead. I blinked a few times at his boldness. “Jesus, Stacy, you’re burning up.”

  With a nod, I grabbed the stool and dropped onto it. We weren’t supposed to sit, but I didn’t care. My hands covered my eyes. All I wanted was to be home in my bed, alone in my misery.

  Charlie moved his coffee aside and leaned forward, examining my face. I knew I must be flushed and pretty awful-looking, but I didn’t really care. “You’re sick. Why aren’t you home?”

  With a heavy sigh, I decided to be honest. “I walked home in the rain last night, only to find I had lost my keys. So I spent forty-five minutes huddled against my building wall until my neighbor came home.” His face remained expressionless, and I felt like I needed to go on. “I had an umbrella, but after a drink, I felt fine and there was this homeless man and a dog who needed it more than I did. In hindsight, I see it wasn’t a smart move.”

  Charlie got up from his chair and went into the kitchen. Normally I’d care, but today I didn’t. I placed my cheek down on the cool counter and imagined myself home.

  “Up you go, hon.” Charlie’s strong arms lifted me off the counter and around to the door. I briefly heard Jack say something as we left, but I was fading fast.

  Next thing I knew, I was on a soft, warm seat, the sound of rain pounding the windshield. The car made one stop, I thought. It was delicious to drift in and out. My next memory was of Charlie handing his keys to a valet. He helped me out of the car in front of a big hotel.

  There was a wonderful fire lit, and he helped me to a fluffy couch. I lay down and closed my eyes; it was so warm. “Open your eyes.” Charlie’s voice was low and sounded concerned. “It’s just NyQuil.” I did, and took what he offered me. “Get some sleep.”

  I wondered if I should be afraid. I must have looked drunk to the people in the lobby, but that was my last conscious thought as my body shut down on me, and I had no interest in turning it back on. If I were going to be raped or murdered, at least I would not be aware of it, and I was so warm.

  I woke the next day with a headache and a sore neck. Pushing back the soft, warm blanket covering me, I was—thankfully—in the same clothes as the day before, and my long hair was still damp from the rain. My legs felt wobbly as I stood and took in the hotel room. I blinked at the clock, unable to believe it was after 5:00 p.m. I had slept through the night and a day. Shocked, I looked for the bathroom and hurried inside and checked myself out in the mirror. I was pale, and my light brown eyes looked exhausted and mirrored the sad–looking, limp hair that hung in long waves down my back. Good Lord, I was quite the sight. I washed my face and towel dried my hair a little.

  I opened the door to find Charlie at the end of the bed, waiting for me.

  “Hi,” I whispered with a little wave, feeling pretty insecure about the whole situation.

  He smiled. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better than yesterday, thanks. I…”

  “Good to hear it.” He cut me off and pointed to a bag. “I got you some dry clothes. They should fit. Then I’ll drive you home after you eat something.”

  “You didn’t need to—”

  “I know, but I wanted to, and you need to eat.” He smiled at me again and went over to a silver hotel cart and removed two plates and set them on the table. “Please, come join me. I’m tired of eating alone.”

  That, I could understand. I lived on my own forever, and company sure was nice to have.

  The prime rib was great, and was certainly not the fare I was used to. Pretty rich for my budget. Charlie remained quiet, just glancing at me with a smile now and then as I ate like I was starving. It wasn’t until he got through his first glass of wine that he started to relax.

  “Do I make you uncomfortable?” I asked when I saw him shift in his seat.

  “Not in the least.”

  “Then why haven’t you said anything to me?”

  He rested his glass on his knee and thought for a moment. “I guess I’m too busy wondering why your company doesn’t bother me.”

  I gave a little nod. “So you’re shocked you like me?” I grinned playfully. “Boy, you sure know how to flatter a lady.”

  He started to laugh, and the way his eyes lit up was so addictive I wanted to see it again. “I don’t have much company. I have a different life than most. Women don’t have time for people like me, and I don’t have time for them.”

  “So you don’t date?” I thought the wine and the leftover cold medicine might be a deadly combo for my filter.

  “I do, just haven’t for a while.” He filled his glass a little more. “Are you dating anyone?”

  “I was.” I lowered my head. “He wasn’t very nice, but we managed to remain friends.”

  Charlie studied my face. “Will?”

  “Yeah.” I looked away. “We were high school sweethearts, but I outgrew him. He still likes to think he has a chance, but he has a bit of a temper. I wasn’t raised a weakling, but I thought I was in love. After a few arguments, I quickly saw he wasn’t for me.” I glanced at Charlie, who hadn’t moved since I started to talk. “I’m not telling you my story to gain sympathy. I’m telling you because you caught me when I was really down. I thank you for looking after me, but I’m better now and should really get going.”

  “Did Will let you leave easily?”

  “No, Will likes to get his way, but in time he moved on. Now we’re friends, but that’s all.”

  “Where are your parents?”

  What is with the drill session? “Dead.”

  “Why?”

  “Because everyone dies at some point.” I didn’t like to answer questions about them.

  “Siblings?”

  “What’s with all the personal questions about who is in my life? That, right there, makes me feel like you’re scoping out if I’m an easy kill or not,” I joked.

  Charlie ran his hands around the back of his neck. “Stacy, if I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead by now.”

  “Good to know.” I sighed. “I have a sister in New York, but we don’t talk.”

  “Why?”

  “Because when our parents died, she left me to run the diner with my Uncle Jack. She took her cut of the inheritance and moved on. I hate the diner too—despise it, actually—but I won’t leave my uncle to run it on his own. He has a large family, and if the diner closes, well, he goes down with it.”

  “That’s noble of you,” he mumbled. “Why do you hate this town so much?”

  I let out a little laugh as I reached for the wine and poured a little more. “When you grow up in a small town and your parents die, people look at you like you’re a lost cause. They look at you with that sad, sympathetic face. I’m not Stacy Marie, I’m that ‘poor’ girl whose parents were murdered by a guy hyped on drugs.” I paused. This topic was a no-go area. “It just gets old.” Charlie nodded a few times. “Your turn.”

  “I suppose it is.” He cleared his throat. “Okay, my mother passed away when I was five. I have four brothers, and I’m the oldest. Born and raised in Phoenix. My father wanted me to take over the family business, but I didn’t want it. So I left.”

  “At least you got out of that town.”

  Charlie glanced down at the table. “Well, we shall see.”

  Okay…I wanted to ask more questions, but I was stuck on one thing. “So, why did you come back? You were gone for a month.”

  “I wanted to see you.” He looked right into my eyes. “I really like you. But…there’s something you need to know.”