Runs Deep (19 page)

CHAPTER 47

D
eclan turned back to Mel’s body. There had to be something here that could help Steve.

Wrong focus, Declan. There must be something here that can tell you who killed Mel. You don’t know for sure it wasn’t Steve.

He nodded to himself. He needed to be objective. Anything other than that and he was no better than Keith.

The door behind him opened. Declan glanced over as Russ stepped in. “Chief said you needed some help processing the scene.”

“You know anything about forensics?”

“I took a couple of classes at the community college and down at the academy.”

“Good enough. Go to the trunk of my car and pull out the black duffel bag. It’s got my gear.” Declan patted his pockets. “Shit. I gave Steve my keys.”

Russ pulled a set of keys out of his pocket. “I grabbed them.”

Declan smiled. Apparently not everybody at the Millners Kill Police Department was a complete idiot. “Great.”

Russ disappeared outside and returned in a few minutes. Declan noticed that when he left and when he returned, he was careful to open the door only enough to let himself through, letting very little of the storm in. The kid had the makings of a decent cop.

Russ held up the bag. “What’s first?”

“There are some extra booties and gloves in there. Once you have them on, grab my camera and start taking pictures. I already took some with my phone but I want better shots. Careful you don’t step in any of the blood.”

Russ nodded and got to work. Declan pulled out the evidence cards, then placed them near anything he wanted extra attention paid to.

An intake of breath had him looking over at Russ, who was now standing above Mel, looking a little paler than he had five minutes ago.

“You okay?” Declan asked.

Russ nodded, but his breathing was a little labored. “I really liked Mel.”

“I know. He was a good man. But the way we honor him right now is by doing the best job we can, okay?”

Russ swallowed. “Yeah, okay.”

Declan raised an eyebrow.

Russ shrugged self-consciously. “I’m just not real good with blood.”

“That’s not a bad thing to be.”

“Yeah, maybe for someone who’s
not
a cop,” Russ muttered.

Declan and Russ spent the next hour processing the scene. When Declan was sure they’d gotten as much as they could, he walked over to the bag and put his gear away. “All right, Russ. Tell me what we know.”

Russ followed him. “Mel was taken by surprise. He didn’t have a chance to defend himself. The doer stabbed him thirty times by my count.”

Declan noted that Russ seemed less nauseated now, more confident. “Notice anything about the stab wounds?”

“It’s hard to tell with the shirt, but they all look deep. No hesitation.”

Declan nodded. “What does that tell you?”

“Our guy was committed.”

“Yes.” Declan pulled a bottle of Luminol out of the bag. “What else did you notice about the blood?”

Russ paused. “I mean, there’s a lot, which means our guy would have been covered in it. But there’s no blood leading to the door.”

“Which tells you?”

“He wasn’t panicked. He was in control. He cleaned up.”

Declan nodded, handing Russ the bottle. “Spray this over the path from the door to Mel and then through the kitchen.”

Russ started to spray while Declan pulled down all the blinds.

“Hey, Declan?” Russ called.

Declan looked over.

“Should I spray the counter? I’m just thinking maybe when the killer stood up, he might have grabbed on to it for support.”

“Good thinking.”

Russ smiled and sprayed the counter on both sides of Mel’s body. He went back and did the kitchen area, then returned to Declan. “Done.”

“All right. Let’s douse the lights.”

Russ reached over next to the door and flipped the switch. “Oh my God.”

Glowing splotches of blue-green showed up all over the place. Blood was splattered along the counter and across the kitchen window. The floor was a mass of color just on this side of Mel’s feet. The killer must have literally been standing in a puddle of blood. Even Declan was shaken by the amount of it. It was odd, though: Why would the killer bother cleaning all that up? It was as if the doer wanted to be sure that whoever found Mel didn’t know his body was there until they were almost of top of it.

Declan headed back to the counter. “He cleaned up there,” he said, pointing at the sink.

Russ pointed to a bright circular spot on the floor next to the sink. “Would that be where he dumped his bloody clothes?”

“Probably. So he got changed, which means he brought a change of clothes with him. He planned this.”

“You think this was Steve?”

Declan looked over at Russ. Declan’s gut told him no. But the evidence? It didn’t really tell him anything. “We need to figure out what time he died. That’ll give us the window.”

“Can you tell that yet?”

“Not for certain. But it was hours ago, at least six or seven. We can do a liver temp, that’ll let us know.”

“If it was hours ago, that means it can’t be Steve. He was locked up in our jail last night.”

Declan jerked his head up. “What? Why?”

“I left you a message. The chief arrested him after Micah was grabbed.”

“I thought he saved Micah.”

Russ shrugged, looking away. “The chief took a while to be convinced of that.”

Declan shook his head, but he realized that Keith’s stubbornness was actually a good thing. Because if the times of death lined up, it meant Steve had an alibi—a very good one.

“But that means someone else did this,” Russ said. “Do you think they’re the same person who killed Elise Ingram?”

Declan paused for a minute, considering what they knew about Elise’s death. “Both were killed by knives and without any witnesses. The likelihood is that, yeah, it was the same doer.” Declan looked over to the circle of blood on the floor next to the sink. “And our boy’s a planner. I’m betting he dumped all his clothes into a garbage bag and took it with him. But we’ll check to be sure.”

“I can’t believe someone would plan something like this,” Russ whispered.

“Yeah. But he must have. He covered his bases pretty well.”

Russ walked over to Mel’s body and pointed at the edge of the counter. “Maybe not
all
his bases.”

Declan walked over and looked down with a smile. He looked back up at Russ. “Well, I do believe we have some fingerprints.”

“Could they be Mel’s?”

Declan shook his head. “Doubtful. When he went down, he stayed down. These fingerprints were made in blood. Mel’s wouldn’t have been.”

A smile began to break over Russ’s face. “So we’ve got him?”

“We just might.”

CHAPTER 48

T
he squad car pulled out of the parking lot with its sirens blaring. Steve had to brace his legs to keep from sliding across the plastic back seat. He was soaked to the bone.

When the police had arrived, Steve hadn’t even noticed. It wasn’t until after he’d been yanked out of Declan’s car and thrown face down in a puddle that he’d shaken off the shock that had come over him in the diner.

They’d left him like that, face down in the pouring rain, for several minutes. The rain had soaked through every piece of clothing he had, right down to his underwear. Even now, water dripped from his hair into his eyes, and with his hands cuffed behind his back, there was nothing he could do about it.

He scooted over so he could lean his head against the window.
Mel’s dead.

He shut his eyes tight as if he that would help him block it out. No such luck. If anything, it was worse with his eyes closed. The image of Mel lying on the floor, his eyes staring at nothing, was imprinted in his mind.

Steve shifted and opened his eyes as the car turned. They pulled up in front of the police station, and the deputy slammed on the brakes. Unprepared, Steve fell forward, his face crashing into the glass divider.

The deputy grinned at him from the rearview mirror.

Steve pushed himself back using his shoulders.
Asshole
.

He had just gotten himself upright when the door next to him was yanked open. Hands reached in and dragged him out. Steve tried to duck his head, but the hands holding him wouldn’t let him, and he slammed into the top of the door frame. He hadn’t even felt the pain yet before he was shoved to the ground and his forehead met the sidewalk with a loud crack. Then the pain exploded.

“Sorry about that,” the deputy said coldly, pulling him up with a grim smile. But then the smile dropped from his face.

Blood dripped down Steve’s forehead and onto his shirt. The deputy pulled him close. “You did that to yourself, you hear?”

Steve was feeling lightheaded and could only nod. He blinked hard. His vision was getting a little fuzzy around the edges.

The deputy shoved him toward the stairs, his grip tight. Steve tried to clear his vision, but he couldn’t seem to manage it. And his feet were moving slowly, as if he were walking through water. He almost laughed.
Maybe it rained more than I thought.
He tried to look down to see if he was walking through water, but it only made him stumble.

The deputy decided to take him up the wheelchair ramp, which was good, because Steve didn’t think his legs would be able to manage the stairs.

The deputy pulled Steve into the foyer and leaned him against the desk. Steve looked at the woman behind the desk. Bee? Lee? What was her name?

The woman pursed her lips and glared at the deputy. When she spoke, there was a hard edge to her words. “What happened?”

“He hit his head.”

“Right. All by himself, I’m sure.”

“Just tell me where I’m taking him,” the deputy growled.

“Holding one. And make sure someone sees to his head.”

The deputy just grunted in response.

Steve was hauled through the main room and down a hallway to the holding cells. The deputy unlocked one of the cell doors and shoved Steve inside—hard.

Lightheaded and still cuffed, Steve couldn’t stop himself from crashing into the back wall. A new pain, this time in his cheekbone, exploded outward. Steve leaned against the back wall, taking deep breaths. Behind him he heard the door slam shut—a noise he was all too familiar with.

Finally, he slid down the wall and turned around. He leaned his head back against the wall, letting the dizziness wash over him, and then the darkness.

CHAPTER 49

F
rom somewhere in the police station, Steve could hear yelling, but he couldn’t make out the words. He blinked his eyes open and realized he’d blacked out a little. He wasn’t sure for how long.

The yelling came closer. “I demand to see him. I’m his lawyer! Where is he? Back here?”

Steve almost smiled—Jack. He looked up just as Jack came into view.

Jack looked into the cell and went still. Then his face twisted in rage. “Who the
hell
is responsible for this? Somebody is losing his job. And god damn it, you better open this cell
right now
.”

Keith spoke, still out of view. “Counselor, your brother put up a fight when one of my officers went to cuff him. Any injuries that resulted from that incident are solely the fault—”

Keith cut himself off as he came closer and got his first glimpse of Steve. Even through Steve’s blurry vision, he could see Keith’s jaw tighten, and he clearly heard the muttered curse. Keith pulled his keys off his belt and unlocked the cell.

Jack rushed in, knelt next to Steve, and gently pulled his head into his lap. Steve winced as he lay on his bound hands.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jack said, helping him sit back up, but he kept a supportive arm around his shoulder. “Someone get these cuffs off him and get me a first aid kit.”

Steve smiled—or at least he thought he did. He wasn’t sure, because Jack was fading in and out. “Thanks, big brother.”

And then the darkness took him again.

CHAPTER 50

J
ulie drove slowly toward town, looking for a store with its lights on. She had stayed at the station until late last night, but it had been a futile gesture. The chief hadn’t listened to anything she’d had to say.

She’d finally gotten home a little after three. She’d been exhausted. But here she was awake only a few hours later. Unfortunately, her sleep had been accompanied by the nightmare of a masked man chasing her. And when she woke, she hadn’t been able to stay in the house alone, even with the storm raging outside.

So she’d headed to town, hoping there was somewhere to go, anywhere. She told herself she wasn’t checking on Steve, even though he stayed at the back of her thoughts. Who was he? The good guy or the bad one? Everyone kept telling her he was a murderer, but every memory she had of him told her the opposite.

Up ahead, she saw that the coffee shop was open.
Oh, yes please,
she thought, and she pulled into a spot. A nice hot cup of gourmet coffee was just what she needed.

Despite the torrent of rain outside, the place was surprisingly busy. It was also loud, with everyone talking animatedly. But storms would do that. Warmth was already beginning to spread through Julie as she got in line.

She didn’t intend to eavesdrop on the conversation of the two women in workout clothes in front of her, but she couldn’t help overhearing. The brunette was nodding her head, her eyes wide. “Found his body first thing. He was literally standing over it, the gun in his hand.”

“Oh my God,” the blonde gasped, her hand to her throat. “Did the police get him?”

“Yes, thank goodness. But still, it’s terrifying to think they let that monster out.”

Julie went still.

“He’s the one who killed that girl ten years ago, right?” the blonde asked. “What was her name? Shelly?”

“Simone.”

“What is the world coming to?”

Julie reached up with a shaking hand and tapped the brunette on the shoulder. She tried to keep her voice even. “Excuse me, did you just say someone was murdered?”

Both women turned to her, obviously delighted to share the latest gossip with someone new. The blonde nodded. “Yes—it happened just a little while ago. You know Mel, from the diner? He was killed.”

Julie’s stomach bottomed out.
Mel?
She pictured Mel from two nights before when she’d caught up with friends. He’d hugged her and then dragged her to a booth to hear all about her new life. And he’d made her promise she’d stop in again before she left town.

“And it was that man who killed the Granger girl way back,” the brunette chirped in. “That Steve Kane. They found him right over the body.”

The blonde shook her head. “We were just saying it was incredible they let him out.”

“It’s amazing two brothers can be so different. Jack has done so much for this town, and that other one—well, it must be something in his head. There’s just something wrong with him. They should lock him up and throw away the key.”

Julie nodded absently, her mind overwhelmed. Steve had killed Mel? Why? When? “Do they know when Mel was killed?”

“It must have been this morning, because that’s when they found him at the diner.”

The brunette nodded. “That’s two murders now. Elise Ingram and Mel. I swear, someone should just take that boy out back of the police station and shoot him.”

The line moved, and the women stepped up to the counter and ordered their coffees. Julie stood behind them, shocked. He’d been out of prison for only a few days, and already two people were dead. A chill crept through her. What was going on?

The women stepped aside and Julie moved forward, her mind spinning.

“Can I help you?” asked the young man behind the counter.

Julie stared at him blankly.

“Ma’am? Can I help you?”

Julie gave herself a mental shake. “Um, a soy latte, please.”

The boy nodded and turned to make her coffee.

A few minutes later, Julie was back in her car, although she couldn’t remember exactly how she’d gotten there. Her latte was in her hand, which meant she must have paid for it. She took a sip. Yup, she’d added sugar, too. She must have been on automatic pilot.

She knew she should head home. Already she was beginning to shake. Her eyes flooded with tears.
Mel.
She leaned her head back, memories of Mel looping through her mind. And in each memory Steve was right next to her.

She swatted the tears away.
I need to go home.

But the moment with Steve on the back porch of Micah’s house came back to her.

She turned on the ignition.
I just need to make one quick stop first.