Charlie All Night (19 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Cruise

BOOK: Charlie All Night
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*  *  *
Allie drove around for a while, trying to make sense of what had
happened. Charlie's arguments
sounded right, but there were Grady and
Beattie and Mrs. Winthrop, and they weren't wrong. So
how could Charlie
be right? There should have been a simple
answer, and there wasn't.
She stopped and picked up cashew chicken and potstickers because she
was unhappy and starving
and because it was what she wanted, for some
reason.
Then she went home and turned on Grady's show, and thought about the
mess some more.
She wanted to hate Charlie for what he was going to do to Grady, but
she didn't. She loved him.
And tomorrow was November and he was
leaving, and she'd be alone again, picking up the pieces
he'd left
behind him.
Well, not alone. She had Joe. And Harry. And Karen and Marcia, and
even Mark and Lisa weren't a complete loss. And Bill and Beattie and
most of all Grady. She'd be working her butt off for Grady because he
deserved it. She'd find a way to keep him out of jail.
And she'd get the prime-time show back. Mark would take her back in a
heartbeat: the last thing he needed was her making some new bozo the
flavor of the month the way she'd done with Charlie.
He still didn't
get it that she hadn't done it alone. That they'd been a team.
Allie closed her eyes for a moment because it hurt so much to remember
that. In the background,
Grady was playing some weird chanting music.
Who would play the weird stuff while Grady was
in prison?
The doorbell rang, and Allie went to get it, assuming Joe had forgotten
his key and grateful he was
home to comfort her.
But when she opened the door, Charlie said, "Can we please talk about
this?"
Allie stood silent, staring at him as he filled her doorway. She
blinked back tears and tried to breathe.
The worst thing she could do
would be to cry all over him; he was her problem, not her solution. But
he stood there, tall and broad and solid and safe, and he sure looked
like all her solutions for the rest
of her life.
And tomorrow was November and Grady was going to jail.
He came in and closed the door and took her hand and pulled her over to
the couch. Then he sat down beside her, and she held herself rigid so
she wouldn't lean into him, trying not to collapse against him, furious
with him for what he was doing to Grady, loving him so much she was
paralyzed with it.
"I don't want to leave it like mis," Charlie said. "This is not the way
we do things. Scream at me or something, but don't walk away from me."
Allie swallowed, and her voice came out strained. "I don't know what to
scream. I know you're right.
And I know you're wrong. And I'm so tired,
and you're leaving anyway." She tipped her head back
and stared at the
cracks in the ceiling. One of the cracks curved around itself and
looked vaguely like Australia so she concentrated on that. All her
other
thoughts hurt too much.
"My father got my brother off the hook on his drug charge," Charlie
said. "Bought off the witnesses
and slung Ten's butt into a rehab
center. He got Ten so buried, he couldn't even call his girlfriend.
But
he solved the problem. My mother was not embarrassed. My brother was
not jailed. And the
law, well, the law is for the little people."
Allie turned at the pain in his voice. "Charlie, you don't have to—"
"Yeah, I do."
She could see how seriously he was looking at her, and she was too
tiied to argue. "All right. Tell me."
"He fixes everything the way he wants it." Charlie said. "He wanted Ten
to be a success and he was. Only Ten had to deal drugs to get it. And
he wanted me to settle down, so he sent me here. Bill didn't give a
damn about that letter. He was doing my dad
a favor, give his son a job, make him settle down. That's what my dad
told Bill. I know it."
"Well, he didn't get what he wanted there," Allie said. "You're leaving
tomorrow, "You'll—"
"And I'm doing the same thing," Charlie went on. "I did what I was sent
to do, fix Bill's little anonymous-letter problem." He looked at Allie.
"I know I'm right on this. But it feels wrong. It feels
like my father.
It feels lousy."
"You're not your father." Allie's voice was firm. "You refuse to take
any responsibility for anything.
You never tell anybody what to do."
"Why does that sound so bad?" Charlie slumped back against the couch.
"I thought it was a solution,
but it's as bad as the problem." He shook
his head. "I packed my car tonight. I figured my job was
done, and I
hated what was happening so I thought I'd just leave. Let you play
opera until you found another schmuck to make into a star."
Allie latched on to his mistake. "I didn't make you a star. You did.
Your personality and your brains
and your talent."
"We did." He looked at her then. "We did it together."
Allie closed her eyes because it hurt too much to look at him. "Don't.
It's over. You're leaving."
"No, I'm not," he told her. "I can't. I can't leave you. I love you. I
can leave Tuttle, but I can't leave
you. I don't ever want to spend
another day without you." He leaned toward her, and his voice was
taut.
"I was going to leave this whole mess behind. I got in the car to go,
and then I just sat there and thought, 'Where the hell am I going?'
Because without you, there isn't anyplace else to go. You're all
there
is."
All the air had been sucked out of her lungs. Allie felt pain in her
chest and heat behind her eyelids
where tears pressed, and she couldn't
move from all the emotion that was choking her.
When she didn't say anything, Charlie added, "Say something, please.
I'm dying here."
She tried to suck some air into her lungs. She was having trouble
breathing. And speaking.
"I..." The words died.
Charlie took her hand. "I love you, Al. It's not about sex or the bet
or the show. I love you. I don't
know, with what I've done, if that's
enough, but I do love you."
"It's enough," she said, and her voice broke. "It's enough." She
swallowed. "I'm really mad at you,
and I hate what you're doing to
Grady..."
"I know."
"But I love you," she said, and as she said it, any doubts she had
disappeared forever. "I love you so much sometimes I get dizzy when I
look at you. I feel good when I'm with you. I feel right. I think
you're wrong here, but I don't think I could stand life without you."
He bent to kiss her, and she held her breath and felt his lips on hers,
warm and gentle and everything
he was, and she kissed him then, with
all the love she had for him, memorizing him, breathing with
him as his
mouth grew hot on hers.
"Don't ever leave me," he said against her lips, and she almost laughed
because she wasn't the one
with the need to leave, but then the
chanting on the radio stopped and Grady's voice broke in.
"This will be my last show for a while, Tuttle," he said, and they both
turned to listen to him, their
heads close. "I've been breaking the
law, and tomorrow morning, I'm turning myself in. I had a long
talk
with a friend tonight, and he pointed out that the law is a fine thing,
even when it's wrong. It's the only defense we have against anarchy,
against the strong overwhelming the weak. And if it's wrong,
well, then
it's our job to change it. I've been giving away marijuana to
chemotherapy patients because
it helps them withstand the nausea the
treatments cause, but it's against the law. I think it's time this
law was changed, and tonight's the only night I have
left to talk about it before I go to jail. If you're listening and you
have an opinion, call in. The number is—"
"Grady is the only person I know who could make his arrest a call-in
topic," Allie said when she'd recovered her voice. "What do you suppose
he's been doing for the past hour while all that music played?"
Charlie let go of her. "He's been talking to his father," he said. "I
called Bill and told him."
Allie sat up. "You
what?
"
Charlie sighed. "I called Bill and told him that Grady was doing
something important that had probably saved Beattie's life, and that
now it was Bill's turn to stick his neck out. He yelled a lot, but I
think he
saw the light at the end. I think he's going to fight for
Grady. When I hung up, he was making a plan.
If nothing else, it should
be interesting to see what happens next." He picked up die chicken
carton from the table in front of them and began to eat, and when Allie
stole a look at him, he looked almost relaxed.
All right. It wouldn't have been her way of handling it, but at least
he was handling it. Getting involved. And he might just be right. "I
bet Bill's not the only one making a plan," she told him, picking up
the potstickers. "I bet Beattie's working on a beaut."
"You should have gotten more food," Charlie said. "This chicken is
going to be gone in no time."
They sat close on the couch and finished the chicken and the
potstickers while they listened to Grady
and his callers, aD of whom
seemed ready to march on city hall to spring him if necessary. Of
course, they were all Grady's callers, and anyone who would listen to
Grady at three in the morning was already fanatically loyal, but it did
reassure Allie. Even more reassuring was having Charlie near. She
finally fell
asleep on Charlie's shoulder while he listened to Grady's show, and she
didn't wake up until he shook
her at five-thirty. "Come on," he told
her softly. "Let's go back in and see if Grady needs help after
the
show."
10
The station was crowded when they got there at five forty-five. The
lobby teemed with two TV
crews, print journalists, the sheriff, a grim
Bill and Beattie and a bemused Mark.
"What is this?" Mark caught Allie's arm as she came through the door
behind Charlie. Charlie looked
back and rolled his eyes at Mark, but he
kept on going into the station hallway. "What's all the publicity for?"
Mark asked. "What did Charlie do now?"
"Nothing." Allie pulled her arm away. "Grady confessed to giving away
marijuana to cancer patients.
He's going to be arrested."
Mark got a faraway look in his eye. Probably planning on confessing to
possession of oregano. How anyone could get that caught up in a career—
She stopped. Thank God for Charlie. If it hadn't been for him, she'd
still be with Mark. In fact, she'd probably be Mark.
"I've got to go," she told Mark and went into the station to find
Charlie and thank him.
*  *  *
She found him in the booth with Grady.
"There's quite a crowd in the lobby," Charlie was telling him.
"Anything I can do? Whatever you
want, you got it."
"Nope." Grady leaned back in his chair, Sam on his lap happily chewing
on the sleeve of Grady's sweatshirt. "I've got ten minutes of
Hildegarde of Bingen on now, and then I'll say my goodbyes
and go to
jail."
"Oh, Grady," Allie sat down on the floor of the booth. "I still wish
you hadn't said anything.
We could have—"
"No, this is going to be great." Grady's voice sounded so
self-satisfied that Allie jerked her head
up to see if could possibly
be that happy.
He was.
"This is exactly the forum we need," Grady told her. "We need to get
this stuff legalized for medical treatment. Now we have a cause.
They're going to have to arrest me and my mother and probably a
half-dozen cancer patients. Think of the publicity when Mrs. Winthrop
goes to jail. Your celibate bet made the tri-state news. This will have
to go national."
Allie went back to the part that scared her the most. "Grady, you're
going to jail."
Grady grinned at her. "Not for long. You don't know my dad. Hell, I
didn't know my dad. He yelled
at first, but he had a plan worked out,
and then Mom got on the other line, and by the time she was finished,
he was ready to run me for governor. He's all gung ho, getting lawyers
and filing motions and calling the press. He says there's bail and
appeals and no end of lawyer red tape he can throw at them
to keep me
out. And the whole time, Mom and I will be giving interviews, making
statements..." He trailed off as his grin widened. "I bet Dad will even
let me keep my show once he gets over the shock."
"He's over it now," Charlie told him from where he was leaning on the
side of the boom. "He's arguing with the sheriff in front of the TV
cameras. This is going to be a circus."
Grady leaned back in his chair. "This is great."
Allie stood up, suddenly reassured. "No, it's not, but I'll help,
anyway." She started out of the booth,
and Charlie caught her arm.
"What are you doing?"
Allie smiled at him, buoyed by Grady's optimism and the fact that
Charlie was touching her again.
"You know all those people I was going
to call to try to stop your drug story? They work both ways.
I'll have
Grady on the national news by tomorrow."
"Oh, right," Charlie snorted. "Even you—" Allie stopped him in
midsentence. "Want to bet?" "No." Charlie shook his head. "Absolutely
not. I'm not betting anything with you ever again."
"That's what I thought," Allie said and left the booth to make some
phone calls.
*  *  *
Three hours later, Grady had been arrested and bailed out, and Charlie
was alone with Bill
in his office.
"Things didn't turn out quite the way I'd planned," Charlie told him.
Bill sighed and sat heavily in his chair. "The two of them. Running a
charity drug ring. And now
they're in hog heaven, and the poor old
sheriff has to go through the motions. If they'd kept their
damn mouths
shut..."
"At least now you know," Charlie said. "The anonymous-letter mystery's
over."
"Oh, yeah, I'm real glad about that." Bill leaned back in his chair and
glared at him. "So I guess
this means you're leaving."
"Nope," Charlie said. "I'm staying. You can tell my dad he won."
Bill started and then tried to look innocent. "What's your dad got to
do with this?"
Charlie shook his head. "Forget it. I figured it out a while back. You
called Dad and told him you had
an anonymous letter, and he told you he
wanted me settled down and you cooked this up together.
Favor for an
old friend, right? You didn't give a damn about that letter."
"I told him I couldn't make you stay if you didn't want to." Bill
scowled at him. "Then you went
and made yourself a hit. And me some
money. It's your fault."
"No, it's Allie's." Charlie signed. "She wanted to make me a star."
"Well, I got to tell you, son, I'm real glad she did." Charlie looked
up in surprise at the emotion in
the older man's voice. "I am, too." He
blinked at the thought. He really was glad.
That's what hanging around with Allie had done for him. Made him career
crazy.
"You're sure gonna make the nights interesting around here," Bill went
on, and Charlie shook his head.
"No, that'll be the mornings. I want
the prime-time spot." Bill frowned at him. "Can't do it. That's
Mark
King's show."
Charlie shrugged. "Then I'm out of here. And so is Allie." Bill's
eyebrows shot up. "Alice? She's not leaving."
"We're getting married,
Bill. Whither I goest, she goest. And if we don't get the prime-time
show,
we're going." Charlie mentally crossed his fingers, hoping Bill
wouldn't call lis bluff. Allie was too independent to follow anybody
anywhere, but Bill didn't have to know that. Bill glared at him.
"What
the hell am I going to do with Mark?"
"I am not the person to ask that," Charlie said as he stood ip. "You
wouldn't like my suggestions."
"Allright." Bill ground his teeth a little. "All right. You got it."
"Thank you very much." Charlie turned back as he got to he door. "And
good luck with Grady and Beattie. Let me know if there's anything I can
do.".
Bill sat back in his chair. "We can handle it. It's a family problem."
Charlie leaned in the doorway. "Well, to tell you the truth, Bill, I
kind of think of you and Grady
and Beattie as family now. So if you
need anything..."
Bill's face softened and he nodded. "I'll call you."
"Thanks. I'd like that."
Charlie looked in Allie's office, but she was long gone, her phone
calls made while he was
helping Grady.
He knew where she'd be, and he tried not to think about it on his way
out to the car.
Now was no time to have a heart attack from lust.

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