Charley's Web Read Free Page A

word. “I’ve always been very curious about that sort of thing.”
    Charley nodded. Like mother, like daughter, she couldn’t help but think. “Thank you.”
    “I called you several times yesterday, but you were out.”
    “You didn’t leave a message.”
    “You know I hate those things,” her mother said.
    Charley smiled. Having only recently settled in Palm Beach after two decades of living in the outback, her mother was terrified of all things remotely technical, and she owned neither a computer nor a cell phone. Voice mail continued to be a source of both wonder and frustration, while the Internet was simply beyond her comprehension. “I drove into Miami to see Bram,” Charley told her.
    Silence. Then, “How is your brother?”
    “I don’t know. He wasn’t at his apartment. I waited for hours.”
    “Did he know you were coming?”
    “He knew.”
    Another silence, this one longer than the first. Then, “You think he’s…?” Her mother’s voice trailed off.
    “…Drinking and doing drugs?”
    “Do you?”
    “Maybe. I don’t know.”
    “I worry so much about him.”
    “A little late for that, don’t you think?” The words were out of Charley’s mouth before she could stop them. “Sorry,” she apologized immediately.
    “That’s all right,” her mother conceded. “I guess I deserved that.”
    “I didn’t mean to be cruel.”
    “Of course you did,” her mother said without rancor. “It’s what makes you such a good writer. And your sister such a mediocre one,” she couldn’t help but add.
    “Mother…”
    “Sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to be cruel,” she said, borrowing Charley’s words.
    “Of course you did.” Charley smiled, felt her mother do the same. “Look, I better go.”
    “I thought maybe I could come over later, see the children…”
    “Sounds fine.” Absently, Charley clicked open another e-mail.
FROM: A person of taste
    TO: Charley@Charley’sWeb.com
    SUBJECT: Perverts
    DATE: Mon. 22 Jan. 2007 10:40:05–0400
    Dear Charley,
    While I’m normally the kind of person who believes in LIVE AND LET LIVE, your most recent column has forced me to reconsider. Your previous column on sex toys was bad enough, but this latest one is an affront to good Christians everywhere. What a vile and disgusting pervert you are. You deserve to BURN IN HELL. So DIE, BITCH, DIE, and take your bastard children with you!
    P.S.: I’d keep a very close eye on them if I were you. You’d be horrified at what some people are capable of.
    Charley felt her breath freeze in her lungs. “Mother, I have to go.” She hung up the phone and jumped to her feet, upending her chair as she raced from her cubicle.

CHAPTER 2
    O kay, Charley, try to calm down.”
    “How can I calm down? Some lunatic’s threatening my children.”
    “I understand. Just take a few deep breaths, and tell me again….”
    Charley took two big gulps of air as Michael Duff got up from behind his massive oak desk and walked to the door of the large, glass-walled office that occupied the southwest corner of the floor.
    A small group of reporters had already gathered outside the office to see what all the commotion was about. “Problems?” someone asked.
    “Everything’s fine,” Michael told them.
    “Everything’s Charley, ” she heard a woman mutter dismissively as Michael closed the door.
    “Okay, so tell me exactly what the e-mail said,” he instructed, signaling for Charley to sit down.
    Charley ignored the two green leather chairs in front of Michael’s desk, choosing to pace the sand-colored carpet instead. Outside the rain pelted against the windows, the sound competing with the din of traffic from nearby I-95. “It said I should burn in hell, and I should ‘die, bitch, die,’ and take my bastard children with me.”
    “Okay, so obviously not your biggest fan…”
    “And then it said that I should watch them carefully, that you never knew what people were capable of.”
    Michael’s brow wrinkled with