In a way, Charlie missed hearing his voice. With Eddie talking to him from the grave, Charlie was a man on a mission. It was impossible for his logical mind to justify what he was doing and why, but he was willing to suspend his disbelief for something far more powerful than skepticism. Hope. Charlie kept Eddie’s voice alive by obsessing on his dead partner’s mantra. The Seacoast Motel in Revere. All the answers are there. What awaited him at that motel, he could only speculate. Perhaps it would explain what he had seen in the bathroom of Rudy Gomes’s apartment. Or who Anne Pedersen was, and why she’d followed him to the hospital. Maybe he’d learn the origin of the kill list, and why the voice of his dead partner filled his head. All that he knew was that he was a man on the run from the police and willing to do almost anything to stop running. Even if that meant stealing. Internet cafés were a dying breed, but enough people without laptops, willing to pay a per minute usage fee, kept a few still in business.
