Midday Clouds - The Charlie Swan Story

Chapter 45 (Eclipse 4)

I pulled up at the Cullen's mansion later that day, after spending a longer-than-usual amount of time driving through the eastern part of town, checking in with some businesses, and grabbing a late lunch. I'd driven to the Cullen's a few dozen times since they first moved there, and at least a handful of times since Bella had started hanging out with Edward – the most recent being when she was missing and I learned they'd fled without a word – but I was seeing it all through fresh eyes after my conversation with Sue.

I'm not gonna lie; I was scared. Scared to think about what they were hiding behind those wood-paneled walls. What was tucked just out of sight from the building's massive, floor-to-ceiling windows. What Bella, unknowingly, may have (or may yet still) uncover about the family's secret doings.

More than anything, I was scared to realize that Carlisle Cullen had, for years now, been operating whatever illicit dealings he dealt right here in Forks, Washington, while I, the goddamn Chief of Police, had been none the wiser.

Well, the jig was up. I wasn't about to run in there guns-a-blazin' or anything, but I would make sure that he knew the Forks Police Department was no band of pushovers, either. I creaked open the cruiser door, took stock of what vehicles were parked in the driveway (no sign of the big one's jeep, Edward's sedan, or Bella's truck, but no surprise there; it was a school day, after all), and, with a moment's hesitation, clicked the safety off of my pistol. I knocked three times, loud, and took a step back to await what came.

"Charlie?" Esme Cullen, the matriarch of the little foster family, opened the door with a wide smile that didn't quite reach her own golden eyes. "To what do we owe the honour?"

"Esme," I said with a nod, "Carlisle wouldn't happen to be around for a word, would he?"

"No no, he's at the hospital! They've got him back on his regular shifts now that we're back. And not a moment too soon, either! He seemed to be going a little stir-crazy without a stethoscope around his neck, that one."

I let the silence linger, but so did she. I realized I'd have to offer some sort of explanation as to why I was at their front step.

"Well, I just popped by to welcome you all back to the neighbourhood and let him – or you, or the rest of ya'll here, for that matter – know that we'll be adding this stretch of road to our regular route, just to keep an eye out, so as to not alarm you about seeing our cruisers every now and again."

"Oh," was all she said. She looked at where the road stopped (the Cullen's driveway) and down the direction from which I'd come (about a half mile of wooded road without a single other home) and she laughed, "Charlie! If I didn't know any better I'd think you were keeping an eye on us rather than for us!"

"Well ma'am, it's our duty to look after everyone under our jurisdiction, no matter how far out they might be. It was an error on our part not to have been doing so to begin with, and for that I'm sorry, but we'll be doing things right from here on out."

She nodded, but those gold eyes looked colder than ever. "Well I can assure you, we're more than safe here. I mean, sure, we see the occasional bear every now and then, but we know how to handle it and have our spray here just in case."

"Don't know how much good that spray might do against those wolves we've been tracking," I said. It had been just a few days since the last trek through the woods in pursuit of them – just a few days since Harry's final hike.

"Well I don't know how much good that would do against them, either," she said, gesturing towards my loaded sidearm.

"It'll do something," I offered back. "Either way. Just giving the heads up."

"Noted, Charlie. I'll be sure to let the rest of the family know. Is there anything else?"

"No, that's all. You have a nice day," I said, taking a step back down towards the cruiser. She just gave me a brisk nod and then closed the door with a quickness that may have been intentional, or may have been entirely in my head.

I didn't get much of a look into the Cullen home while standing at their front door, but not for lack of trying. What was noticeable, however, was the absence of something – something that, as someone who has spent many a chilly, early spring day speaking to Forks residents at their front doors, I'd never quite clocked the normalcy of: the draft of warm air escaping an open door.

The Cullen's place, curiously, was ice cold.