Free Graveyard Shifts: A Pat Wyatt Novel by Laura Del

Sometimes I swear my brain is somewhere else.
    “Not exactly .” There was the emphasis again.
    “What do you mean by that?” I asked. My investigative journalist was showing. Once I get on the scent of something big, there is no possible way that I will ever quit. Even if it does seem insane.
    “His mother left him a long time ago,” he answered, “and hasn’t been heard from since.”
    He doesn’t have a mother, just like me. Except technically, his mother’s alive, Pat. “How old is he?” I asked again, hoping he would answer this time.
    “ Considerably older than you are.”
    “You lost me.” I grimaced against the huge headache that was forming deep in my brain.
    He shrugged. “I can’t tell you how old he is, for I don’t know the exact age. But I do know he is older than you.”
    I laughed at him. “He looks about twenty-six, and I’m almost twenty-seven. How much older can he be?”
    “A lot older.” He was serious. “Next question, please.”
    I huffed, folding my arms. I didn’t like it when people deflected. “Where does he work?” I thought that was a safe question, but Charlie looked confused.
    “Work?” he asked, shaking his head trying to make sense of the word. “I don’t think Mr. Satané has worked a day in his life.” There was just a hint of envy in his voice, but I ignored it. All I could think of was Samuel’s letter. “Went to work,” it said, and I wondered why he would’ve lied over something so silly.
    My brows furrowed as I bit down on my thumbnail. “But that’s what he told me.”
    “Oh,” something must have clicked in his head, and my hand dropped. “He goes to Mr. Wolf’s office and helps with the pro-bono work. That’s probably what he meant.”
    Pro-bono? This man was too good to be true. “He seems generous.” It wasn’t a question, but Charlie nodded anyway.
    “Oh, he is, Pat.” He glowed from the inside out. “Very generous. Almost to a fault,” he sighed.
    If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that Charlie had a thing for his boss. But I could read that his love wasn’t like that.
    I studied his face very intently. “Charlie, you really love him, don’t you?”
    He stared down at his hands and sniffed. For a moment I wondered if he was crying. Then a tear rolled down his rosy cheek, and that answered my question. “No one has ever asked me that before.”
    I smiled to make him more comfortable and leaned forward, touching his knee. “You can tell me.”
    “Yes,” he admitted, looking me in the eye. “I do. I love him like the son I’ve never had.”
    I shook my head. “Charlie, that’s so sad. Have you told him?”
    “No.” When he spoke his lower lip quivered. “I can’t.”
    “Why not?” I asked, all concerns for Samuel gone.
    His face was becoming redder by the minute. “Because he’d fire me.”
    I was walking on eggshells at this point, and I didn’t want to upset him further. But I just had to know why he was so attached to Samuel. “How long have you been with him?”
    He sighed. “Over twenty years.”
    That explained it. When you’re with someone for that long, they become family to you. However, one thing did bother me a little. “So why don’t you call him Samuel instead of Mr. Satané?”
    He smiled. “He likes it, and I don’t wish to disturb what he likes.”
    I got up off the sofa and hugged him, I just couldn’t help it. “Oh, Charlie. You are the sweetest man in the world.” My lips found his cheek, and I gave him a quick peck.
    He hugged me back, saying, “I really like you.”
    “I like you too,” I said, sitting back down on the sofa.
    “Is there anything else you wish to ask me?” He wiped his eyes with his handkerchief, and I nodded. “Anything, my dear.” He smiled. “You name it.”
    I grimaced. “Where’s the bathroom?” I asked, and he laughed.

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    chapter
    FIVE
    The rest of the day went quickly.
    I had gotten an e-mail from my editor telling me that my article was the