Runs Deep (4 page)

Keith had made the Granger case the centerpiece of every one of his campaigns for office. He’d been the one who’d uncovered the bloody clothes in Steve’s room. Of course, he’d also been the one who’d stomped all over the crime scene, contaminating any potential DNA evidence.
And
he was the one who’d lost the clothes from lockup. Unsurprisingly, those facts had been absent from Keith’s campaign ads.

To be honest, the whole police department had been woefully out of their depth when the Granger case came along. Before Simone Granger, there hadn’t been a murder in Miller’s Kill in ten years, and that one had been the result of bar fight with plenty of witnesses.

But once Keith focused on Steve, there was no changing course. He seized on everything that might be related to Steve’s guilt and disregarded anything that might have helped to exonerate him. To say that Steve was railroaded would be a complete understatement.

Declan had been stationed on the other side of the state at the time, but he’d gotten himself reassigned to the Millners Kill area after hearing about Steve’s arrest. Fact was, Steve held a special place in Declan’s heart. After college, Declan had enlisted in the Army and had become a Ranger. And Steve, who’d been ten at the time, had sent him a Flat Stanley to keep with him. Declan wrote Steve regularly about Stanley’s “adventures.” That stupid cutout and the weekly letters from Steve kept Declan going when hell was literally exploding around him.

So when Steve was locked up, Declan had tried to repay the favor—writing Steve every week and visiting when he could. And the truth was, he still couldn’t make himself believe that the kid he’d watched grow up had committed that gruesome crime.

“We’ve already gotten calls this morning about Steve being released,” Keith said. “People are scared. They want to know what we’re going to do to protect this town from him.”

Declan stared, his mouth a little dry.
Shit
. He’d hoped Steve would have a little time to settle in before people knew he was back. “And what did you tell them?”

Keith met Declan’s gaze, his eyes hard. “That it’s the Millners Kills Police Department’s job to protect this town. And that we will do exactly that.”

Declan knew this was bad. Keith wasn’t going to give Steve a chance at a normal life. He’d all but declared Steve as enemy number one. But he also knew there was no way to convince Keith that he was going about this the wrong way.

“Look, I’m not here about Steve,” Declan said. “I’m here to help. So if you need anything, you let me know.”

Keith smirked. “Sure, Declan, we need any help from the state I’ll be sure to give you a call.”

“Okay then. I’ll see you later.” Declan turned around without waiting for a reply.
Well, this was a stupid idea.

Declan waved to Dee as he headed out. Pushing open the outside doors, he wondered if he should run by Steve’s and warn him that the chief had it out for him. He shook his head. Steve was a smart kid.
Well, I guess “man” now.
He knew better than anyone how people in this town thought of him.

Declan sighed.
Just keep your head down, Steve.

CHAPTER 6

S
teve walked through the living room. It was weird. Nothing had changed. The same red plaid couch was over against the wall across from the kitchen. His grandfather’s leather recliner was parked in front of the fireplace. The old tan carpet still ran through the whole house, and the same floral wallpaper dominated the walls in the kitchen and front hall.

And yet somehow it was all different, too. The carpet and furniture were a little more faded with a few more stains and scratches. And the house felt smaller, like it had shrunk since he’d last been here. He glanced at the stairs. He could have sworn they were a little more centered as well. The paint on the walls seemed a little duller too, and he noticed some cracks in the corners of the walls.
I’ll need to fix those
.

He walked over to the mantel and glanced at the pictures lined up there. There were the same ones he always remembered—his grandparents’ wedding picture, his parents, pictures of him and Jack as kids—but now there were new pictures as well, of Jack, graduating college and law school.

But there were none of Steve after the age of fifteen—because everything in Steve’s life had slammed to a halt at that age.

He picked up the picture on the end of the mantel. It was of him, age fifteen, and he had his arm around his best friend—a girl with dark brown hair and braces.

“Steve, you hungry?”

Steve fumbled the picture before righting it and setting it back on the mantel. He turned around and smiled at his grandmother. “You just fed me. I don’t think I could fit in another bite.”

“Well, Jack will be by in a little bit. He’s helping with the sandbags. He thought maybe you could help as well.”

Steve felt a momentary panic at the idea of getting involved in a public event. The last thing he wanted was to dive right back into town life—but his grandmother was looking at him with such concern.

He nodded. “Yeah, well, we’ll see.”

He followed his grandmother into the kitchen. The old TV set on the counter was turned on to the local news.

“Steve, can you go turn up the TV?”

Steve crossed the kitchen and turned the knob.

“The counties of Oswego, Cayuga, and Wayne will be the hardest hit, with potentially over two inches of rain per hour. If you haven’t gotten your supplies in, folks, you need to get them in a hurry. This storm is picking up speed, and it’s going to hit our area by tomorrow afternoon.”

Steve turned it back down as the newscast gave way to a commercial break. He turned to look at his grandmother. Her face was pinched.

“Grandma? You all right?”

Her features smoothed. “It’ll be fine. They’ve been working everyone up into a frenzy about this storm. But I’m sure it won’t be as bad as they say.”

Steve took a seat at the kitchen table. “I’ll make sure the house is secure, maybe tape up the windows.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you. But I think we might need to buy the tape, and some other supplies. The stores are probably going to be completely out soon.” She gave Steve the look.

He swallowed.
Oh, good. Shopping in town
. “Yeah, well, why don’t you give me a list?”

Thirty minutes later, Steve was pushing a cart down the aisle of Tops, searching for beef jerky. His grandmother had been obsessed with the stuff for as long as he could remember. Steve had never understood it. Even though prison food hadn’t offered much, it still hadn’t made him appreciate the uniqueness of jerky. Finally spying the familiar red packaging, he snagged three bags.

He looked around. This actually hadn’t been too bad. So far, no one had recognized him. And it was actually kind of nice, just buying stuff. But he was still having trouble with the newness of everything.

It was the small things that kept tripping him up. The cars on the walk over here, for instance. They all looked so high-tech. And there were no pay phones any more; everyone had cell phones. In fact, it seemed like every kid he saw was staring at a phone or some game thing. When did that happen? When did electronics take over? And it struck him as surreal to think that those kids had internet access everywhere they went. At Auburn, they’d still had dial-up.

It all made Steve feel like a time traveler who’d just been dropped in the future. Declan told him he’d catch up, but he didn’t think so. He felt like he was already so far behind, he’d never catch up.

He turned at the end of the aisle.

“We need to get milk. I told you—” A blond woman banged into Steve’s cart.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She glanced up. Then, gasping, she took a quick step back. It was Cheryl Summers, two years ahead of him in school and the popular girl. “It’s you.”

Steve went still—not sure what to say. He gave her an abrupt nod and moved his cart around her. As he passed, her husband stared daggers at him.

Steve recognized him too. He’d been a friend of Jack’s.

“I can’t believe they let him out,” Cheryl whispered to her husband.

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.”