Runs Deep

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Runs Deep Page 4

by R. D. Brady


  Steve tried to ignore their muttering, but his chest felt tight.

  He managed to get the supplies they needed. Everything except for the batteries—the store was completely out. He hoped his grandma had a cache somewhere in her house, because one store was as much as he was willing to do today.

  He made a beeline for the register. Time to go. He made a point of keeping his eyes down, only looking up enough to avoid running into anybody else. He got in the first line he saw open. A couple was ahead of him. Luckily, they didn’t seem to know him and he was pretty sure he didn’t know them.

  After loading his goods onto the conveyor behind the couple, he pretended to read the magazine headlines, but his heart pounded and he was overly aware of the people around him. He moved up to the cashier as the couple ahead of him finished.

  “Paper or plastic?” the blond teenage girl at the register asked. Her nametag read Elise.

  Steve tried to calm his breathing. “Um, plastic.”

  Elise leaned far enough over that her blouse fell away from her chest. “You ready for the storm?”

  Steve averted his eyes. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

  “I haven’t seen you around before.”

  “Yeah. I just got in town.”

  “Well, some people are going down to the shore tonight. Bringing some beer, before the storm hits. You should think about coming, if you’re going to be in town.”

  Steve stared at her for minute before her words clicked. Holy crap. She’s flirting with me. Steve took a look at her. She couldn’t be any older than sixteen.

  “You work out over at Gold’s? I go there sometimes,” she said.

  He struggled not to laugh. Work out—for fun. Right. In prison, muscle was protection. Working out wasn’t a hobby. It was a religion that kept you safe. “Yeah. How much will that be?”

  The girl’s smile wobbled as she glanced back at the register. “$38.78.”

  Steve handed her two twenties. She took her time making change, but Steve didn’t make eye contact. He busied himself with looking around the store.

  Finally, she handed it over. “Well, take care.” She smiled, her eyes lingering on his face.

  “Yeah, you too.”

  Steve ducked outside with his bags. Shaking his head, he gave a little laugh. Someone had actually flirted with him.

  But his smile disappeared when he remembered Cheryl and her husband. He hunched his shoulders, staring at the sidewalk. Every time someone walked past, he tensed, expecting them to recognize him and say something. He’d almost made it to the end of Main Street when a dark Acura pulled up next to him.

  “There he is.”

  Steve glanced over, his muscles tight. Then a smile crossed his face. “Jack!”

  Steve’s brother got out of the car and came around it, wrapping Steve in a hug. Steve felt the stares of passersby, and it made him feel self-conscious. But Jack didn’t seem to care.

  When Jack stepped away, he held Steve at arm’s length and looked him over. Steve did the same. There was no denying they were brothers, but Steve was a good three inches taller than Jack, and while Jack was slim, Steve was more muscular.

  “You look good,” Jack said. “I need your workout regimen.”

  Steve laughed. “It’s easy. Get convicted of a crime you didn’t commit, then workout every day in the yard for a decade.”

  Jack’s smile dimmed. “Hey, that’s all behind you now. Sorry I couldn’t be there to meet you when you got out. I had this law conference in Albany.”

  “No problem.” Steve shifted the bags in his hands.

  Jack glanced at them. “You shopping for Grandma?”

  Steve nodded.

  “Did you see Elise Ingram? She’s grown up pretty well.”

  Steve paused, not making the connection until he realized Jack was talking about the cashier. “That was Elise Ingram? Holy cow.”

  Steve remembered Elise as this little girl with pigtails and braces. He shook his head. Time really was marching on. Jack looked so professional: dark business suit, crisp white shirt, purple tie. Steve was pretty sure there was a matching briefcase in his car somewhere. He looked like a lawyer or a politician. Speaking of which… “Grandma mentioned you might be running for mayor.”

  Jack gave him a slow smile. “I’m tossing around the idea. But we can talk about that some other time. Right now I’m headed over to help fill sandbags along the levee. They could use you too.”

  Right. Hanging out with all the good townsfolk. Fun, fun, fun. Steve held up his bags. “I need to get these supplies back to Grandma.”

  “I told her I’d find you and bring you back after. She’s okay with it. And I already picked up some wood at the hardware store to board up her windows. We can do that together, after we help out.”

  Steve looked away, watching people heading into the supermarket or packing their cars with their supplies. But what he really saw were the angry screaming faces that had protested outside his trial. The same Millners Kill residents that Steve had known his whole life.

  He looked back at Jack. “Look, I know you mean well, but the rest of the town didn’t exactly rally to my side. They all still think I killed Simone.”

  “Not all of them. Some think Keith botched that investigation so bad, we’ll never know for certain. But the fact is, you’re back. People are going to see you at some point or another. It might as well be doing something that helps out the town.”

  Steve sighed, knowing Jack was right—like he always was. He also knew that fighting Jack was a useless endeavor. Once Jack was focused on something, he never let it go. And apparently, Steve’s successful reintegration into Millners Kill was his latest project.

  Steve sighed, resigned to his fate. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Jack drove slowly through Millners Kill, pointing out to Steve what had changed while he’d been away. Steve knew Jack was doing it to be nice, but the whole exercise just made it more apparent to Steve how much of an outsider he really was.

  He remembered riding his skateboard down Main Street, which was good. But then he thought about how he’d never gotten to be part of another Fourth of July parade. And now he couldn’t imagine standing in a crowd cheering as the floats went by. When Jack drove him by the high school, all Steve could think about was the fact that he’d never gotten to graduate from there. Never went to prom.

  In fact, the more places Jack pointed out, the more apparent it became to Steve how hard it was going to be to live here. If he showed up at any of those places that, as a kid, had embraced him, he’d be a pariah.

  By the time Jack pulled into a parking space behind the bait and tackle shop, the good mood Steve had developed from seeing Jack had evaporated. He was back to feeling like Steve the ex-con.

  Jack put the car in park and looked over at him. “You okay?”

  Steve nodded, looking through the windshield at the water. The wind had picked up and whitecaps had begun to form. “I’m going down by the water for a bit.”

  Jack opened his door. “Okay. I’ll find out what they need us to do.”

  They both stepped out of the car, and Jack headed around the building. Taking a breath, Steve headed in the same direction. Jack was speaking with a big man with a clipboard. After taking a breath, Steve made his way over to the beach.

  There were about three dozen people scattered across the beach. Some were filling bags. Some moved overburdened wheelbarrows. Some loaded trucks. Steve turned away from them and walked to an empty area. He stared at the dark water as it tossed and raged. God, he’d missed this. There was something incredibly freeing about being next to a large body of water. It was primal and untamed. And everyone was equal before it.

  While he was on the inside, he’d tried to picture the water, but it had never resulted in the same feeling. Now he closed his eyes, breathing deep, smelling the salt in the air and feeling the spray lick at his face. He was home. A peace settled in his chest. Yeah. This is home.


  He opened his eyes as his brother walked over. “Got our assignments.” Jack held up a shovel.

  Steve took it, raising an eyebrow. “You seem to be missing your shovel.”

  Jack smiled and ignored the barb. He pointed at a group of men and women farther down the bank. “You’ll be helping them fill sandbags.”

  Steve looked at Jack in his pristine suit. “And what are you going to be doing?”

  Jack grinned. “They need some administrative tasks done.”

  Steve shook his head. “Shocking. I’m doing the hard labor and you’re pushing paper.”

  Jack whacked him on the shoulder. “Go on. It’ll be good for you. Make some new friends. And play nice with the other kids.”

  “Shut up, Jack.”

  Jack might be joking, but Steve did feel like a little kid starting at a new school. A little kernel of nervousness began to build in the pit of his stomach. It was different from the fear he’d known in prison. Then, he’d been fearful of physically getting hurt. Now, he was fearful of what other people would say. He’d been reduced to an insecure twelve-year-old.

  Steve glanced over at the group of people he was supposed to work with. They looked normal enough, and he didn’t recognize any of them—but from this distance, that didn’t really mean much.

  “Hey, you good?” Jack said.

  Steve straightened his back. “Yeah, sure.”

  “This is a new beginning. Show them who you are not who they think you are.”

  Steve nodded, his face feeling tight. “Yeah. I know. See you later.”

  Hunching his shoulders, Steve walked over to the group. A small guy with a dark complexion shoveling sand into a bag caught sight of him. “Hey. I’m Carlos. Grab a bag and start filling.”

  Steve nodded. “Okay.” He reached down and grabbed a few bags and headed to an empty spot next to the pile of sand.

  He paused for just minute, but no one paid him any attention—and not in a “don’t look at the criminal” kind of way, either. They were all simply focused on their own tasks. So Steve bent to his. Well okay.

  CHAPTER 8

  The man watched Elise Ingram as she stepped out of Tops. Her blond hair blew around her in the wind, and she impatiently tried to push it down.

  He smiled. What a pretty, pretty girl.

  Elise pulled a knit hat out of her bag and tugged it on before turning to the right and heading down Main Street.

  He fell into step along with her, but on the opposite side of the street. She didn’t even glance over at him. He struggled to keep the smile off his face. Oblivious.

  Elise reached the corner and stopped, waiting for a minivan to drive by. Then she quickly crossed. He turned away, then turned again down an alley that ran parallel to Main Street. Elise would turn up again at the next corner.

  He skipped a little, his joy too overwhelming to contain.

  The game was on. He picked up his pace, and sure enough, Elise was just rounding the corner, turning away from him. He stepped out of the alley and hurried after her as she walked down one more block and crossed the street. He pulled down the edge of his cap and tugged up his raincoat collar.

  Ahead of him, he could see Elise pulling out her phone and typing something, slowing her pace. He put on a little speed and moved ahead of her, juggling his two grocery bags.

  The next alley was just up ahead. When he reached the opening of the alley, he pulled at the small hole in the brown bags he had created earlier. With a tearing sound, both bags ripped, and their contents spilled across the sidewalk. A few cans rolled into the alley.

  “Oh, no.” He stood and stared at the mess of groceries.

  A can of peaches rolled toward Elise, and she stooped to pick it up. She gathered a few more dropped items and made her way over to him. “Hey. Looks like you could use some help.”

  He stood, his hands full of groceries. “Oh, thanks. Bags just gave out.”

  “Oh, hey, it’s you. I didn’t recognize you.”

  He smiled. “Thanks. Just pile it on top.”

  Elise eyed the groceries already in his arms. “Um, are you going far? Maybe I could help carry them?”

  “That would be great. Thanks.” He smiled, and together they gathered up the rest of the stray groceries.

  He headed into the alley. “My car’s just on the other side. How’s school?”

  “Good. It’ll be nice to have the next few days off, though. College is tougher than I expected. I have a history project due right when I get back, so I really need the time.”

  Oh, you’ll have more than just a few days off. Out loud, he said. “You’re at the community college, right? First year? Do you have plans for after that?”

  Elise shifted the load in her arms. “Yeah. I’ll stay for the two years and then transfer out, see if I can get into a state school.”

  “Good plan. It’ll be a lot less money that way. Hold on a second.” He stopped next to an old table someone had discarded in the alley and put his armful of groceries down. With his back to Elise, he pulled the knife from the sheath on his belt, underneath his raincoat.

  “You need me to take some of those?” Elise asked, leaning forward.

  He smiled as he turned. With one quick slash, he opened Elise’s neck. Her eyes went wide, and she grabbed on to him. Groceries crashed to the ground and rolled along the alley floor.

  He took her in his arms and pushed back her hair. “You’re such a pretty girl, Elise.”

  Elise grabbed at her throat, blood pouring over her hands.

  He smiled. “Well, at least you don’t have to worry about that history project.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Steve spent over an hour filling bags before Carlos tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey. You want to help me move these over to the levee?”

  “Yeah. Sure.” Dropping his shovel, Steve followed Carlos to two wheelbarrows loaded with bags.

  Steve whistled. “Well, this should be fun.”

  Carlos grinned. “Why do you think I picked you?” He jerked a thumb back at the rest of the group. “I’m pretty sure anyone else would have a heart attack if they even tried.”

  “Not sure I won’t.”

  Carlos laughed. “Well, I’ll be sure to call the paramedics.” He extended his hand. “Didn’t catch your name.”

  “Uh, Steve.”

  Carlos gave his hand a firm shake. “Good to meet you, Steve. Now let’s get to work.”

  Over the next two hours, Steve and Carlos filled wheelbarrows and moved them over to the wall of sandbags. They’d add their loads to the wall, then head back for another one. Slowly, the wall built up.

  The whole time, Carlos kept up a constant flow of conversation. And despite Steve’s attempt to keep the man at arm’s length, Carlos’s enthusiasm was infectious. Steve found himself relaxing and enjoying the man’s company.

  After the last sandbag was moved, Carlos swiped them two waters from the stand someone had set up for volunteers. He handed one to Steve, then leaned back against the bridge. “Well, that was some damn fine work. If you hadn’t come along, it would have taken me forever. So thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  “So, what do you do for a living, Steve?”

  “Um, I just started over at Mel’s while I look for something.”

  “Hey, times are tough. I manage the lumberyard over on the mainland. If you’re looking for work, you should come by after the storm. We’re always looking for hard workers, and that’s definitely you.”

  “Yeah. I might do that. Thanks.”

  A squad car pulled up. Keith stepped out, pulling his belt up over his stomach.

  Steve’s good mood vanished. Shit.

  Keith looked around for a minute before spying Steve. Then he headed over.

  Carlos watched Keith approach. “Wonder what he wants.”

  “Pretty sure he’s not here to move sandbags,” Steve muttered.

  Carlos chuckled.

  ‘‘Hey, Carlos,” Keith said.

&
nbsp; Carlos nodded. “Chief.”

  Keith nodded toward Steve. “I see you’re getting to know Millners Kills’s most famous resident.”

  Carlos glanced over at Steve, a question on his face.

  Keith feigned surprise. “Oh, that’s right. You weren’t here when Steve killed the Granger girl. Killed her right in her own kitchen.”

  Steve struggled to keep a rein on his temper. Bastard. He started to step around Keith, but Keith shot out an arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Steve stared him down. “What do you want, Keith?”

  Keith’s face turned red. “That’s ‘Chief’ to you.”

  “Um, I’m just going to go,” Carlos said, beating a hasty retreat. He cast a glance over his shoulder at Steve.

  Well, I guess that friendship’s over before it began.

  “Is there a problem here?” Jack asked, materializing behind Keith.

  Keith glanced back at Jack and lowered his arm. “No problem. Just making sure your brother here is behaving himself.”

  Jack smiled. “Why, Chief, you wouldn’t be harassing my brother without cause, now would you?”

  Keith smiled in return. “Just saying hello.”

  Jack’s eyes were hard. “Well, isn’t that nice. Come on, Steve. We need to get back and board up those windows.”

  Steve stepped around Keith, his anger boiling.

  Jack grabbed his arm, keeping his smile in place. He leaned down. “Not a word, Steve.”

  CHAPTER 10

  The image of Keith’s slimy little smile stayed in Steve’s mind for the whole drive back to his grandmother’s house. “It’s always going to be like this,” he growled.

  Jack pulled in to the drive and turned off the engine. “Keith is a small-minded asshole. You can’t paint the whole town with his brush.”

  Steve groaned. “Jack, you’re an optimist. But reality needs to take precedence here. As long as I stay here, Simone Granger’s death is going to follow me. Keith is going to make sure of it. As soon as I can, I’m getting out of here. If I’m really going to start over, it’s going to have to be somewhere else.”

 

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