Runs Deeper
Page 21
But that wasn’t the entire story. Apparently Steve and Julie had sprinted out of the coffeehouse with Nevaeh and headed back to the firehouse. No one knew what had happened, but they were all concerned.
Phineas was itching to ask the couple who owned the coffeehouse some more questions, but he really didn’t want to get on their bad side. Bad enough being stuck here, never mind being stuck here without good coffee.
He put the car into reverse and pulled out of the parking lot. He headed toward the firehouse, but it was buttoned up tight. There was a Dover police cruiser outside, along with a giant Hummer. He knew the Hummer belonged to Reggie Tully, which meant he wasn’t going to be able to get in there. But he did drive by slowly, watching the building for any sign of movement. Sadly, there was none.
He sighed when he was past it, trying to figure out what to do next. He could try Jared at the bed and breakfast. He’d seemed nice enough. And if Phineas phrased it as just making conversation rather than being a reporter, maybe he could provide a little more information, like he had before. Phineas didn’t really like doing it that way, but he was desperate. No one was talking. And he needed to know what was going on. He’d sunk all of his money into this trip. He could not walk away with nothing.
Resolved, he turned onto Mulberry Lane and headed toward the bed and breakfast. He only passed one other car on the road, heading toward Main Street. It really was like a town cut off. There was no one on the streets. There weren’t even kids playing. It was simply too cold to let them outside for too long. Even without the murders, there would’ve been a creepy feel to the town.
He pulled onto the side of the street across from the bed and breakfast. It really was a cute little building. He could see people wanting to go antiquing and staying here. He wasn’t a big fan of bed and breakfasts himself, however. He hated people being all in his business. He like the anonymity that came with the chain hotels, not to mention the prices. The heat had finally kicked on in the car about half a block ago. Phineas gave himself a few minutes to soak it in, keeping his hands over the vent and then placing them on his face to help warm him up. God, why would anyone live here? It was so damn cold.
He thought longingly about his bed back in his apartment in Albany as well as Natasha. His little room might not be much, but it was definitely comfortable. And definitely warm.
Here he could barely seem to keep warmth inside him. Of course, his jacket wasn’t exactly designed for Arctic hiking, which was what it felt like he was doing even when he was only walking about ten feet.
Turning off the engine, he steeled himself for the shock of cold and then flung open the door. He stepped outside and felt frozen almost immediately. God, I hate this town.
He hurried across the street, not even bothering to look up. There just weren’t enough cars out to bother with that, and he didn’t feel like taking the extra couple of seconds to wait by the side of the road. His jeans already felt like they were encased in ice. He slipped a little as he reached the other side of the road and then hiked up the driveway.
He knew the detectives were here, but he hadn’t spoken with them yet. And he’d seen their car back at the police station. He wondered what they were making of all this craziness. He kept his eyes downcast against the wind as he hurried up the steps. He tried the handle and nearly ran face first into the door. It was locked. That was odd. He rang the doorbell even as he tried the door again, thinking maybe it had just gotten jammed. But no, it was actually locked. He remembered Jared saying he never locked it during the day.
No one appeared at the door. He peered in the window along the porch, but there was no movement inside.
Phineas shifted from foot to foot, rubbing his arms. He certainly couldn’t hang out here waiting for Jared to return. He quickly made his way back down the porch steps and across the street to his car. He’d wait in there. Or maybe he’d head back to the coffeehouse and get a bite to eat and something warm to drink.
Actually, that sounded really good right now. The story was turning into a bust. He had nothing to go on. No one was willing to comment on record. He had a bunch of no comments and polite refusals.
He’d started drafting up a story last night, but besides saying that Steve Kane was living a quiet life in a New England town, he didn’t have anything substantial besides the murders. He had not a single quote. He hadn’t approached the chief of police in person, but after their one and only phone conversation, he had a pretty good feeling how any further conversations would go. None of this was panning out the way he thought it was going to. This story was supposed to make him. Now it looked like it might just break him.
“Hey, are you that reporter?”
Phineas whirled around. The man walking toward him was of medium height and build. He couldn’t really get a good look at his face with the hat and collar of his jacket up. But then again, with the weather, he couldn’t really blame him.
“Yes, I’m Phineas O’Rourke. Can I help you?”
“I heard you were looking for information about Steve Davidson.”
Phineas’s interest rose. “You know Steve?”
The man nodded, and even with his mouth hidden behind the scarf, he could see the smile in his cheeks. “Oh, I know Steve real well.”
Chapter Sixty-Five
The gentle touch of Julie’s fingers against the side of Steve’s neck woke him. He opened his eyes slowly. Julie hovered above him, checking his pulse.
“Still alive,” he murmured.
She gave him a tired glare. “That’s not funny.”
Steve straightened, careful not to disturb Bess, who lay curled in next to him. The two of them had fallen asleep on the couch while waiting to hear about Russ.
But Julie had woken him every hour on the hour to make sure that Steve’s head injury wasn’t too serious. She checked over Bess every time she’d woken up Steve as well.
Steve looked to the end of the room. Melanie’s husband had shown up last night and taken her home, promising to call if she showed any signs of a concussion. But Russ still lay in a bed, Declan asleep in the chair next to him. “How is he?”
Julie gave him a tired smile. “He’s good. Just a little rest and he’ll be fine. We got lucky, with both of them.” Julie’s bottom lip trembled. “He saved our little girl.”
Steve opened up his arms, and Julie all but crashed into them. She had been pushing herself ever since they’d arrived at the fire station. She hadn’t been able to take time to hold Bess and assure herself that she was fine. She’d had to hold all that fear and terror in for hours.
Now, quiet tears rolled down her cheeks as her shoulders shook. “Why is this happening again?” she asked softly.
Steve didn’t have an answer for her. How did you explain evil? So he just kissed her on the top of her head and held her tight. They stayed like that, huddled together, both thinking about how much they could have lost.
Soon Julie’s shoulders quieted. Steve craned to try and see her face. She’d fallen asleep. She’d been up all night looking after him, Bess, and Russ. Her body had just given out. Steve stayed there for a while, his arms wrapped around Julie, Bess pressed in on his other side.
He breathed in the moment. The rest of the world could disappear. As long as he had these two, he was fine.
He must’ve dozed off. The next thing Steve knew, he was opening his eyes to see sunlight sliding through the slats of the blinds at the end of the room. Julie and Bess were still sleeping soundly. He carefully extricated himself from both of them. Then he lay Julie down next to Bess. Bess curled right into her as soon as Julie lay next to her. Steve placed the blanket over the two of them, kissing each of them on the forehead.
He made his way to the back of the room, stopping at the edge of Russ’s bed. Russ looked pale, but his chest rose and fell in a uniform rhythm. Steve gripped the edge of the bed. Russ had saved Julie back in Millners Kill. And now he owed Bess’s life to him as well.
Thank you, Russ. Thank you, th
ank you, thank you.
“Hey.” Declan opened his eyes slightly.
Steve kept his voice equally low as he responded. “Hey. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to check on the hero.”
Declan smiled. “He’s good. But he’ll be weak for a few days while he regains his strength.”
“I’m going to head to the house and pick up a few things for Bess and Julie. Do you want me to get you guys anything?”
“Actually, you mind picking up a change of clothes for Russ?”
“Will do.” Steve turned to go.
“Wait.”
He turned back.
“Take this.” Declan pulled his sidearm from the holster next to him. He extended it to Steve.
Steve wanted to wave it away, but instead he found himself reaching his hand out, his fingers closing around the cold metal. “Thanks.”
“You see anything questionable, you get out of there right away. Don’t ask questions, trust your instincts, okay?”
Steve nodded.
Declan started to sit up. “You know what? I’ll just go with you. Give me a minute to—”
“It’s okay, Declan. Stay with Russ. Watch over the girls. I’ll just run home real quick, grab what I need, and get back.”
Declan eyed him. And Steve could see just how tired he was. “You sure?”
Steve nodded. “Yeah. I’ll only be a little bit.”
Declan’s eyes were already closing as Steve headed out of the room after checking on the girls one more time. The firehouse was quiet as he stepped into the hallway. He followed the scent of coffee to the small kitchen. Pete looked up from the table, bleary-eyed. “Morning, Steve. How is everybody?”
“As good as can be expected.” He gestured to the coffee pot. “Do you mind if I…”
“Help yourself.”
Steve poured himself a large cup, only putting in a dash of milk. The heat was a jolt that slid down his throat, and he welcomed it. “I’m going to head back to the house and pick up a change of clothes for Bess, myself, Julie, and Russ. Any chance you could give me a ride back to the coffee shop to grab my car?”
Pete reached into his pockets. “Why not just take mine? We’ll go back and grab yours later.”
“Thanks, Pete. Appreciate it.”
Pete tossed him his keys, and Steve caught them with one hand.
Pete frowned, studying Steve. “You okay to drive?”
Steve nodded. “Just a slight headache. I’ll take my time.”
“Be careful out there. The snow’s really coming down again. It looks like a new storm is moving in.”
“Will do.” Steve headed for the door.
Pete was worried about a new storm. But he knew Pete was wrong. It wasn’t a new storm. It was the same storm that had been raging since he was a kid.
Chapter Sixty-Six
The streets were empty as Steve made his way slowly down the roads. Snow was piled high on either side, and the windshield wipers worked furiously to keep more from obstructing his view. It felt like this storm had lasted forever. They’d have a few hours break, and then it would start all over again.
Leaning forward over the steering wheel, he peered up at the sky. It was a strange mix of pink and gray, the pinkish-red straining to fight through the gray clouds that overwhelmed it.
“Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning,” he whispered. If Steve believed in foreshadowing, he’d say this sky was a sign of bad things to come. But of course, the bad things had already happened.
He turned onto his street. His car was the first one to make tracks in the road. Everything was pristine and white. The plows must’ve been working overtime for the last couple of days. And they’d done a good job. But they simply couldn’t keep up with the deluge of snow that they’d gotten.
He pulled up in front of his house, skipping the driveway. It hadn’t been plowed and wouldn’t be until Steve got around to it, and right now, that just wasn’t a priority.
He sat in the idling car, staring up at his house. In the rearview mirror, he saw a Dover police cruiser turn onto the road behind him. The cruiser pulled to a stop right behind him. Steve got out and walked over.
Chris rolled down the window. “Hey. Pete gave a call and said you’d headed back to the house. I’ll just wait out here in case there’s any problems.”
“Thanks, Chris. Appreciate it.” Steve made his way to the house, having to high-step to get through the snow. But he felt a little better with Chris sitting out front. It was amazing. Somehow in just a few days, Jack had ripped away all the safety and security he’d felt in Dover. His home used to be his sanctuary. And now it felt cold in more ways than one.
He stomped off his boots and let himself into the house. It was silent. Nothing was disturbed. But a chill still ran over him. Just get what you need and get out, Steve.
Steve wasted no time in the house. He grabbed an old backpack and tossed clothes for the three of them inside, along with a few toiletries. He stopped by the guestroom and grabbed Russ’s and Declan’s bags as well, not sure what they’d need. Then he headed back outside.
Chris grabbed one of the bags from him as he reached the road and helped him load them into the car. “That everything?”
Steve pictured his car parked next to the coffee shop. It would be buried by now. He shook his head. “I’m just going to grab a shovel from the garage. I have the feeling I might need it later to dig my car out.”
“Good idea. I’ll wait.”
“Okay. I’ll be two minutes.”
Steve made his way down the driveway, the snow pulling at his boots. If I need to run, I’m not going to be able to. The thought flashed through his mind. Steve shook his head. It was fine. No one had been here for a while. There were no tracks in the snow. And Chris was right at the end of the drive. Besides, anyone jumping out at him would be just as hampered by the snow.
There was a small overhang at the edge of the roof, but it hadn’t done much to keep the snow from piling up right along the garage door. He had to dig through the snow to reach the garage door handle. Grasping it, he yanked it up, happy when it came easily. Sometimes it would stick. But the cold must have shrunk the metal, making it move easier. He’d meant to replace the door last summer but just hadn’t quite gotten around to it.
There were no windows in the garage. And the light from outside wasn’t doing much to pierce the darkness inside. He reached along the wall and flipped on the light. And then he went still.
He stared at the unfamiliar sight. For a moment, his mind stuttered, not able to comprehend what he was seeing. Tattered shirt, ripped pants—all still attached to a body hanging from a tool hook along the side of the garage.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Steve stumbled back as he stared at Phineas O’Rourke’s body. “Oh my God.”
Phineas opened his eyes. Pain and desperation flashed across his face. “Help me.”
“Chris! Chris!” Steve rushed forward. Phineas had been impaled on one of the hooks along the side of the garage that Steve used to hold tools.
Steve stopped next to Phineas, his hands hovering uselessly in the air. He wasn’t sure what to do. He’d need Chris’s help to get him off the hook.
Chris appeared in the garage door opening. “Steve, what’s the—”
Steve looked back at Chris, whose face had gone white. “Dear God.”
“He’s still alive,” said Steve. “We need to get him down.”
Chris hurried to Steve’s side. Steve studied Phineas’s body. It looked like the nail had gone through his back at an angle. “We’ll need to lift him up to get him off the nail.”
Chris took position on Phineas’s other side. He gently held on to Phineas, grabbing him along the shoulder and underneath the legs. Steve did the same on his side, trying not to notice the blood that covered the man’s shirt and pants.
“On the count of three. One … two … three.” Steve lifted Phineas, who cried out. Steve winced but didn’t stop, knowi
ng causing him a little more pain was unavoidable. Steve pushed up and up, his shoulders aching and his arms beginning to tremble.
Oh God, please don’t let me drop him. Finally, Phineas was lifted free. They lowered him quickly, locking hands to create a stretcher, with his chest leaning forward on their arms.
“You got him?” Chris asked.
Steve adjusted his grip. “Yeah.”
“Let’s get him to my car.” Together, he and Chris made their way down the driveway with Phineas cradled between them. Between Phineas’s weight and the snow, it was a trial of endurance. Steve looked down at the reporter. He didn’t appreciate the man snooping into his life, but he certainly didn’t want this for him.
It seemed to take forever, but they finally reached the end of the drive. Phineas was out cold, or at least Steve hoped he was just unconscious. And unconscious was probably for the best. The man had to be in some crazy pain. Steve wasn’t sure how he was even still alive between the cold and injury. How long had he been in there?
Chris propped a knee against the back of the cruiser, taking some of Phineas’s weight as he yanked open the back door. Together he and Steve carefully lowered him to the back seat on his stomach. “I’ll get him to the firehouse.”
“I’ll be right behind you.” Steve closed the door after Phineas as Chris jumped into the driver seat.
Chris pulled out quickly, the back of his cruiser fishtailing in the snow. Steve hurried to his car, jumping in and turning the engine on. He didn’t have a life depending upon him getting to the firehouse quickly, but he still moved quickly.
He wanted to put as much distance between himself and his own house as he could manage.
He looked up, feeling eyes on him. And even though he knew it was his imagination, he still hit the gas pedal a little harder than was necessary.