by R. D. Brady
Declan paused, trying to remember who that was. “Darrell?”
“No. The younger one—Micah.”
“Micah? He’s what, eight?”
Russ shook his head. “Six. Micah was seen talking to Steve. Chief wants to find out what they said.”
“Why? Is the kid hurt?”
Russ shook his head. “No. Someone just reported that Micah was seen walking with Steve.”
Declan’s gut clenched. God damn it. Hearing a kid was being questioned about Steve was not going to calm the fears that were already cropping up in town. And what the hell was Keith thinking? There were ten million things they needed to prep for the storm. There wasn’t time for this crap.
But Declan would have to make the time. “Okay. I’ll head over there.”
Russ hesitated. “Just… Could you not mention that I told you?”
Declan smiled. “No problem.”
The relief on Russ’s face was palpable. “Thanks.”
Declan turned to go before turning back to Russ. “How come you are telling me this? I mean, I know you’re a good cop, but it’s almost like you’re looking out for Steve. In fact, I think you’re the only one in the police department who seems to give a damn about him.”
Russ looked around again; there was still no one nearby. “I was friends with Steve back in high school,” he said. “Not best friends or anything, but we had some good times. When he was arrested, I believed he’d killed Simone. After all, the cops said he did, and the courts did too.”
“Something change that?”
“When I joined the department, I looked at the old case work and…” He stopped. “Look, this stays between us, right?”
Declan nodded. “Right.”
“Well, the chief—he likes to cut corners. And when I looked at the investigation, there were a lot of red flags. But the chief never investigated any of them. As soon as they found those clothes in Steve’s closet, it was game over. I thought reading the file would put to rest any doubts I had. But it just created more.”
“So you don’t think he killed Simone?”
“I honestly don’t know. But I do think there are a lot of questions that still need to be answered.”
“I know what you mean.”
Russ paused. “Do you think he killed her?”
“I know that, given the right circumstances, anyone can kill. But I don’t think those were the right circumstances for Steve. So no, I don’t think he did.”
“Yeah, I know,” Russ said, although Declan had the distinct impression the words weren’t for his ears.
“I better go,” Declan said. “But can you just go keep an eye on Steve? I don’t like the mood this town is in. He should be heading home from work any minute.”
Russ nodded. “Yeah. I was actually planning on it. But remember, when you talk to the chief, you didn’t hear anything from me.”
“You got it.”
Declan ducked back into the main office and shrugged on his jacket before jogging to the school’s main doors. Outside, he could barely make out the parking lot through the rain whipping against the windows. Declan groaned. And this is just the beginning.
He discounted driving almost immediately. He could see the lines of water running along the road. And the station was only down the street. It’ll probably be faster to go on foot.
Preparing for a wet run, he pulled up his hood with a grimace before dashing out into the storm. The rain was coming down in sheets. He was soaked in the short run to the police station. As he stepped into the foyer, water dripped off him, forming a puddle on the floor.
Dee raised an eyebrow. “Need a towel?”
He grinned. “That would be nice.” He started to walk toward her.
She put up a hand. “I’ll bring it to you. I don’t need my whole station soaked.” Dee rounded the desk and pushed through the doors. She tossed him a white towel.
Declan caught it one-handed. He wiped down his face, pulled his jacket over his head, and hung it on the coatrack by the door. Another pool of water started to develop under it.
Declan dried his boots off the best he could before heading over to the desk. He held up the towel. Dee pointed to a bin just outside the swinging doors. He tossed it inside.
“Where’s the Donaldson kid?” Declan asked.
Dee raised an eyebrow. “How’d you hear about that?”
Declan shrugged. “Small town.”
She huffed and hooked a thumb toward the back. “Yeah, sure. Interrogation room.”
This time it was Declan who raised his eyebrow. “Interrogation?”
She nodded, although she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Chief’s orders.”
Declan pushed through the doors. Great—a six-year-old in an interrogation room. That’s not intimidating.
As Declan headed toward the back room, he saw a good-looking black woman sitting beside a mountain of a man in the chief’s office: Michone Donaldson and her brother, Reggie Tully. Michone was Micah’s mother, and Reggie his uncle. Micah’s father was off somewhere in Pennsylvania with family number two.
Declan’s temper began to rise. If Micah’s mom and uncle were in the chief’s office, it meant the kid was on his own without any adult representation. And Declan was damn sure Keith hadn’t bothered to get the kid any kind of legal representation. That bastard.
He paused just outside the interrogation room, trying to rein in his anger. He took a deep breath, then pushed open the door.
“Micah, I’d just like—” Keith cut off in mid-sentence, staring at Declan. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Well, I heard you were having a chat with Micah here, and I wanted to see if you need my help.”
“I don’t.” Keith gestured toward the door.
Declan ignored him. He pulled a chair out from the table, placed it at the end, and took a seat. Now he could see both Keith and Micah at the same time. He smiled at Micah. “Hi, Micah. How you doing?”
Micah looked down at the tabletop. “I’m okay.”
The chief glared at Declan. “I appreciate your interest, but I’ve got this under control.”
Declan gave Keith a friendly smile. “Don’t worry, I’m just observing. You go right ahead.” He sat back in his chair.
Keith eyed at Declan a moment longer, but Declan showed no sign of moving, so finally the chief grunted and turned back to the boy, a giant smile on his face. Declan knew Keith was trying to appear friendly, but in Declan’s opinion, it only made him look creepy.
“Now, Micah,” Keith said, “you were saying you spoke with Steve Kane the other day.”
Declan narrowed his eyes but held his tongue.
Micah darted a glance at Keith before his gaze returned to the table. “Um, yeah.”
“What did you two talk about?” Keith asked.
Micah just shrugged.
Keith leaned forward, his voice hardening. “Now Micah, you know when the police ask you a question, you need to answer.”
Micah started to shake.
Declan could have throttled Keith. He was about to interrupt when Micah’s soft voice whispered, “It’s a secret.”
Keith grinned and tried to tap Micah’s hand, but Micah pulled it away.
“Well, that’s all we need,” Keith said. “You stay here a minute, and your parents will be right in.”
Keith headed out the door, and Declan stared after him. What the hell was that all about?
Declan reached over and squeezed Micah’s hand—he noticed that Micah didn’t pull away from him. “You did fine. I’ll be right back.”
Declan followed Keith out, closing the door behind him. He caught up with Keith and stepped around him, forcing him to stop. “What the hell was that?” he asked.
Keith smirked. “That was called investigating.”
“And what is it exactly that you think you just found out?”
Keith took a step back, the smirk on his face growing wider. “What, you don’t know? A secret?” He did air quotes. “We
all know what that means.”
Declan stared at him dumbfounded. How the hell could anyone elect this guy to office? “So, what? Steve’s not just a murderer now, he’s a sexual predator as well?”
Keith shrugged. “He’s been in prison. You learn a lot in prison.”
Declan bit down an angry retort. “First off, whatever you think you just accomplished in there, you didn’t. You need to get the boy to say what the secret is—not just assume. And second, why isn’t his mother or uncle in there with him?”
“I told them they didn’t need to be. I didn’t want to traumatize the kid.”
Declan pictured Keith looming over Micah. “Are you kidding? You just questioned a minor alone in an interrogation room.” Declan took a breath. He took a step toward Keith. “You say nothing about sexual assault, do you hear me? Not until there’s proof.”
“You don’t get to—”
Declan spoke through gritted teeth. “If you breathe a word of this, I will have your badge stripped so fast it will make your head spin. Then I will hire the lawyer for Steve to sue this town, and you personally.”
“This is my case. I can—”
“Case? There is no case. You have nothing.”
Keith spluttered. “You can’t come in here and—”
“I just did. And if you don’t like it, feel free to call the state and complain—although everybody’s a little busy with the storm right now. It might take a few days for them to get back to you.”
“You’re making a huge mistake here,” Keith snarled.
“No. This town made a huge mistake electing you.”
Keith narrowed his eyes. “Screw you, Declan.”
Declan turned away. “No thanks. You’re not my type.”
CHAPTER 23
Steve stood at the back door of the diner staring out at the rain. It was as if someone was pouring water from a never-empty bucket. It just wasn’t letting up.
Should have grabbed Dad’s jacket, he thought as he glanced down at his sweatshirt. He was going to be soaked before he made it to the end of the parking lot.
After his talk with Mel, the diner had gotten swamped again, and Steve had stayed around to help. He didn’t mind, but the rain had only gotten heavier in the last hour.
He watched the rain for a while, thinking about what Shawn had said earlier. It had gotten him thinking about where his life was heading. And where it could have gone—which meant Julie.
He couldn’t get her out of his head. She was a giant one of his “what ifs.” What if he had told her how he felt years ago? What if he hadn’t been arrested and sent away? Would they be living their lives together?
He shook his head. Or was he just romanticizing a childhood crush because it was the closest thing to a romantic relationship he’d ever had?
Outside, the rain showed no signs of slowing. He sighed. It was going to be one really soggy walk.
Mel walked over and eyed him. “You only got that sweatshirt?”
“Yeah. It’s okay though.”
“Hold on.” Mel ducked back into his office, then came back holding out a dark green rain poncho. “Some customer left it weeks ago and never picked it up. His loss is your gain.”
Steve hesitated, not wanting to owe Mel anything. But he shook off the thought. This wasn’t prison. It wasn’t tit for tat. He reached out and took the jacket.
“Thanks.”
“You did real good today. Haven’t missed a beat.” Mel paused. “Look, I changed my mind about tomorrow. I’m going to open up, what with everyone stuck in town. Shawn’s not going to be able to make it in though, so I could use you for the whole day, if you’re up for it.”
“Yeah. No problem.”
Mel smiled. “Great. See you in the morning.” He clapped Steve on the back and headed back to the front counter.
Steve watched him walk away. It was almost like old times.
Feeling lighter than he had since he’d arrived back in town, Steve pulled the poncho over his head and opened the back door. Rain pelted him in the doorway. He could swear the rain was coming in sideways.
He pulled up his hood, ducked his head, and stepped out. Wind and rain tore at him, but the poncho at least kept his chest and the top part of his jeans dry. His sneakers, though, were soaked within seconds.
But as his feet squished along in his soggy sneakers, he smiled. There was something wild about a storm—and something freeing.
He paused at the end of the parking lot. He should head home. But to be honest, he was enjoying himself. Besides, with the rain lashing down, the few people who were out were rushing by, their heads down. No one paid him any attention. For the first time since he’d been released, he could walk around without worrying about people’s prying eyes.
Feeling freer than he had in ten years, Steve smiled and headed for the water’s edge.
He could see the bridge shaking in the torrent. As he got closer, he could hear the groan. Holy crap, that thing really is going to go. He noticed that they’d switched out the sawhorses for rope. Good call. The sawhorses would never survive the wind.
Steve stood at the divider’s edge. The water looked like it was battling itself. Waves swelled and crashed, sending up plumes of water. More waves slammed into the bridge, causing it to tremble. It was violent and explosive. Steve couldn’t look away. It was incredible.
The blare of a car horn sounded behind him. Steve turned.
A red sedan, going way too fast for the road conditions, cut in front of an SUV. The SUV driver slammed on their brakes, but the tires had no traction on the rain-covered street, and the SUV fishtailed, hydroplaning directly past the spot where Steve stood. He was close enough to see the terrified female driver’s face and the small child strapped into the car seat in the back. As Steve watched in disbelief, frozen in place, the SUV careened straight onto the bridge, cutting through the rope like it wasn’t there and skidding into the guardrail.
For a second, Steve thought the rail would hold—but then, with a screech, it tore away from the bridge.
The car tumbled over the side into the waters below.
Steve sprinted to the spot on the bridge where the car had gone over, yanking his poncho off and throwing it aside as he ran. He saw other people running for the bridge as well, but he was the closest.
The SUV had fallen right side up but it was sinking fast. For just a moment, doubts crowded Steve’s mind. He hadn’t swum in a decade.
Then he pictured the small face in the back of the car.
Holding his breath, he jumped.
CHAPTER 24
Declan walked back down the hall of the police station, trying to cool down. He’d lost his temper, and that wasn’t good. Keith could, and would, make things difficult for him from this point on. Of course, Keith hadn’t exactly been going out of his way to help Declan before now, so Declan probably hadn’t lost too much.
Declan stopped at the vending machine and looked at its contents with a sigh. No Cheetos. He settled for two cans of fruit punch and a bag of pretzels. Then he made his way back to interrogation and nudged open the door. Micah jumped up like he’d been shot.
Declan cursed Keith again. Goddamn it. The poor kid was terrified.
Declan forced himself to smile. “Hey, Micah.” He held up the juice and pretzels. “I thought you might want a snack.”
Declan placed one of the cans of fruit punch in front of Micah. Taking a seat across from him, he opened the other can and took a sip. “Ah. I needed that.”
Micah slowly took his can, opened it, and took a careful sip.
Declan opened the bag of pretzels. He took one out, tossed it in the air, and caught it in his mouth. He offered the bag to Micah.
Micah shook his head.
Declan took a few pretzels from the bag before placing it in the center of the table. “Well, it’s here if you change your mind. How’s school going?”
“Okay.”
“I heard your school is putting on Mary Poppins.”
<
br /> Micah nodded.
“Are you going to be in it?”
“I’m going to be a dancing penguin.”
“Really? That’s great.”
Declan reached over and nudged the pretzel bag closer to Micah. Micah’s little hand dug into the bag this time, coming away with three pretzels. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
Declan was content to let them sit and eat pretzels until Micah was comfortable talking. It only took about two minutes.
“That other guy’s not very nice,” the boy said.
Out of the mouths of babes. “Well, he’s trying to make sure nothing bad happens to the town.”
“And he thinks Steve might do something bad?”
Declan nodded. “Yes, he does.”
Micah took a sip of fruit punch. “I don’t think he would.”
“Why not?”
Micah shrugged. “He’s nice.”
“So you talked to him?”
Micah nodded his head. “Yeah. He’s my friend.”
“How’d you guys become friends?”
Micah opened his mouth, then shut it. His gaze returned to the table.
Declan leaned forward. “You know, Steve’s a friend of mine too.”
Micah looked up at him through thick lashes. “He is?”
“Yup. In fact, I’ve known Steve since he was a baby.” Declan paused. “And I’m guessing him being your friend has something to do with your secret.”
Micah nodded.
“Seeing as I’m friends with Steve, how about if you tell me this secret? I promise not to tell.”
“Do I have to?”
“Well, Steve actually might get in trouble if you don’t.”
Micah chewed on his bottom lip.
Declan felt bad pressuring the kid, but he really needed to find out what the kid was talking about.
“You won’t tell my brother or the kids at school?”
Declan held up his hand. “Scout’s honor.”
Micah giggled. “You’re not a Boy Scout.”
“Am too. Or at least I was.”
Micah hesitated.
Declan stayed quiet, not wanting to interfere with whatever debate was going on in the kid’s mind.
