Runs Deep (6 page)

CHAPTER 11

J
ulie Granger turned off Main Street. She’d stopped by the supermarket on the mainland before heading over the bridge to Millners Kill. It had been an eight-hour drive to get here, and once she got to her parents’ house, she wanted to be able to stay there and not have to run back out for anything. And she was pretty sure her parents’ cupboards were bare. They had moved to Charleston, South Carolina six months ago, so even if there
was
anything left to eat in the house, she didn’t think she’d want it.

She hit a pothole and some of the groceries in her back seat spilled to the floor. “Damn it.”

“What’s wrong?” Her friend Leslie asked from the car phone. Leslie and Julie had been on the phone together for two hours. The two of them had met in med school and had become instant friends. They’d been thrilled when they’d both landed the same residency program at SUNY Stony Brook. Leslie knew more than anyone how hard this trip home was going to be.

“Just dropped all my groceries across the back of the car.”

“Pothole?”

“Yup.”

“You know you’re supposed to drive around those, right?”

Julie laughed. “I have never heard that before.”

“Well, I’m here to help. But you will be back in three days, right?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be back.” Julie paused. “How’s Dr. Santorina?”

Now it was Leslie’s turn to hesitate. “He’s, well, slightly less cheerful than his normal dour self. So just make sure you’re back. “

Julie cringed. She’d requested and been granted time off from her residency, but Dr. Santorina viewed her as his star pupil, and he was not happy. He wanted his students to be focused on medicine twenty-four seven. A life outside of medicine was not a consideration in his program.

But Julie knew this would probably be her last chance to go home. By some miracle, her parents’ realtor had found a couple who was interested in their house. Her parents had been trying to sell their house for over a year now, with no success. Millners Kill was a small market, making it a tough sell to begin with, but when your house came with a history of murder, it made it near impossible. Julie hadn’t thought it would ever sell.

But then along came the Phifers—professors moving into the area from the Midwest. They would take ownership in December. In less than three months, Julie’s childhood home would belong to somebody else.

Julie had mixed feelings about that.

“Jules?” Leslie’s voice called through the car’s speakers.

“Sorry. Yes, I will be back.” She turned onto her street. “Look, I’m almost there. I’ll call you in a few days when I’m heading back. Okay?”

“Okay. But if you need me, you call, all right?”

Touched, Julie nodded. “I will.”

“Okay. And while you’re there, try to have a little fun, okay?”

“I will,” Julie said, although fun was not exactly on the agenda. They said goodbye just as Julie spied the familiar blue and white Dutch colonial with black shutters. She felt a combination of excitement and fear.
Home
.

She pulled into the drive and under the carport, then turned off the engine. She sat there for a full minute, working up her courage. She hadn’t been back here for two years. And the last time she’d only stayed for two days.

The house itself looked like it was in good shape. Her parents had paid a landscaping company to keep the yard looking presentable. Julie glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the “For Sale” sign swinging in the wind.

She felt torn about the decision to sell it. True, she had barely been able to force herself back here since she’d left for college, but it was still home. Even if she didn’t want to be here, she still wanted the option of being able to come here.

She shook her head and opened the car door.
And
that’s
completely unselfish.

She pulled her suitcase and air mattress out of the trunk then carried them to the side door, bouncing the suitcase up the three steps. When she unlocked and opened the door, stale air came back at her. It no longer smelled like home.

She placed the case and mattress inside the door, then headed back to the trunk and debated for a moment whether she should take out her supplies for boarding up the house. She shook her head and closed the trunk. First she needed something hot to eat and drink. Then she’d face getting the house ready for the storm.

She grabbed the two bags from the back seat, gathering up the spilled groceries, then headed into the house, nearly tripping over the air mattress as she entered.

“Shit.”

The two grocery bags tipped precariously for a second before she got everything under control.
Oh, I’m such a klutz
. Shaking her head at her clumsiness, she walked into the kitchen and put the bags down on the counter. She was careful to not look over toward the breakfast nook.

She’d just put the milk, margarine, and eggs in the refrigerator when her cell rang. She glanced at the screen before answering. “Hi, Mom. Don’t worry. I arrived safe and sound.”

“Oh, thank God. Now honey, I don’t want you to worry, but I need you to get back in your car and leave again.”

Julie rolled her eyes. Her mother was always dramatic.

Julie pulled the spaghetti and sauce out of the bags and placed them in the pantry next to the fridge. “Mom, I’ll be fine. I’m sure the storm won’t be that bad. If it was, they’d evacuate. So don’t worry. As soon as the storm is over, I’ll button up the house and head out. I have to get back to the hospital anyway.”

That was an understatement. Although they’d agreed to the time off, they hadn’t exactly been thrilled about a second-year resident taking time off. But she needed to come back here and put to rest some old demons before she could move on. And this could be her last chance to do that.

Her father’s voice came on the line. “Julie, this is your father.”

Julie tried not to laugh. Her father always introduced himself when he got on the phone. As if, after twenty-six years, she wouldn’t recognize his voice. “Hi, Dad. Tell Mom I’ll be—”

“Julie, this isn’t about the storm. There’s been a development.”

Julie felt a chill begin at the base of her spine. “Dad, what’s going on?”

He paused. “It’s Steve Kane. He was released yesterday. He’s in Millners Kill.”

Julie gripped the counters. Her vision wavered for a second.
Steve
. “But I thought he wasn’t getting out for another few months.”

Julie could hear the anger in her father’s voice. “His release was part of some plan to reduce prison overcrowding. Those with good behavior were released earlier. Good behavior.” Her dad scoffed.

Julie knew he was about to go off on a tirade. She’d heard it every time Steve’s name came up. “Okay Dad, calm down. Are you sure he’s actually in town? Just because he got—”

“I called the police department. He’s in town. He’ll be working at Mel’s Diner.”

Julie flashed on a memory of her and Steve sitting in one of Mel’s booths, arguing over who got the next song choice on the jukebox. Steve had let her choose. Fact was, he almost always did.

She shoved the memory away and the confusing feelings it brought with it. “Okay. But there’s no reason he would come see me. And no reason he would even know I was in town.”

“Criminals always go back to the scene of their crime. You need to get out of there—”

“Dad.” This time Julie cut him off. “I’m not a little girl. I can handle myself. You know that—you’re the one who taught me. And I just drove eight hours. I’m not getting back in the car. Not tonight. Look, I promise I’ll be careful and I’ll stay away from him.”

“And if you see him anywhere near you, you call the cops. And you call us every few hours.”

Julie sighed. “I’ll call you twice a day until I leave town, okay? And if I see him, I’ll call the cops,
if
the situation warrants it.”

“Julie—”

“Dad, I love you. But I’m a grown woman.” She softened her tone. “I’m not a teenage girl. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Her father paused. “You don’t still… You don’t still think he’s innocent, do you? Because the courts convicted him. He killed Simone.”

Julie swallowed. She’d accepted that, mostly. But it was still hard to believe that the Steve she’d been best friends with since kindergarten was the same monster who had brutally stabbed her sister to death.

So Julie did what she did every time she talked to her parents about Simone’s murder: she lied. “Yes, Dad. I know he killed her.”

CHAPTER 12

S
teve nailed the last board over the windows at the front of his grandmother’s house. The boards were probably overkill, but Steve felt better doing something.

Jack had helped him shore up most of the house, but he’d left a while ago. He said he still had some things to button up at his own apartment, but that he’d be staying with Steve at their grandmother’s starting tomorrow.

Grabbing his hammer and box of nails, Steve headed into the house, put his tools in the closet by the back door, and looked around. He wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t want to watch TV. There was only storm coverage on anyway. A book wouldn’t hold his interest right now. And his grandmother seemed determined that he never feel even the slightest pang of hunger, so food wasn’t an option. He rubbed his hands together. Sit down? Go upstairs? Do a puzzle? Nothing appealed to him.

I’m going stir crazy
, Steve realized with a shock.

After all his time in prison, he thought he’d be used to staying inside, but with the opportunity now to be outside, he found he was practically climbing the walls. He needed to get out and walk.

He grabbed his sweatshirt and headed for the door. “Grandma? I’m going for a little walk.”

He heard his grandmother moving about upstairs. “Hold on a sec,” she called. A few seconds later, she bustled down. She walked to the closet by the front door and pulled out a dark green jacket with a hood.

Steve stared at it for a moment. “Where’d you find that?”

“Your mother put a bunch of your father’s things away after he—” She paused. “After he left.”

You mean abandoned us
, Steve thought, but he didn’t correct her. His grandmother had loved his dad like he was her own. She had never believed that he had just left. She always thought there must be a good reason for his absence—not that she had ever come up with a convincing one.

Steve realized with a shock that she had the same faith in him—a complete, blind faith.

“Here.” She handed him the jacket. “It’s probably going to rain any minute, and that sweatshirt won’t be enough.”

Steve hesitated. If it had been anyone’s but his dad’s, he would have simply taken it with his thanks. But his dad always brought up conflicting emotions in him. He’d loved his dad. His dad had been his best friend. And then, one day, he just didn’t come home.

For years, Steve thought that he himself was responsible—that he had done something to make his father go away. He’d tried his hardest to be the best son ever. Then his mom had gotten sick, and she’d gone away too. And then he was charged with murder. Apparently, being good hadn’t done much for him.

Steve pulled himself from his thoughts. His grandmother stared at him expectantly. He reached out and took the jacket. “Thanks, Grandma.”

She kissed him on the cheek before heading back to the kitchen. “Don’t be too long. Dinner will be on the table in an hour. Oh, and Declan’s coming to dinner. He wanted to welcome you home.”

Steve wasn’t really surprised that Declan was coming over. Actually, he was surprised that Declan hadn’t stopped by or called already. “Is Jack coming?”

“No. He wanted to, but he needed to finish some work up tonight so he could have the next few days off.”

“Oh,” Steve said, feeling disappointed. But he shook it off. He couldn’t expect Jack to drop everything just because his little brother Steve was back.

Steve pulled on the jacket and sniffed the collar. It smelled like his grandma’s house. Disappointment filled him. He didn’t know why he’d thought it would smell like his dad all these years later.

He let himself out of the house, then pulled up the hood as the wind blew hard against him. Tossing a mental coin, he turned right. He had thought the walk would ease some of the tension in him, but if anything, it increased it. He wasn’t used to wide open spaces and few people. Each time a car drove by, his heart rate picked up. Each time he saw a person, he scanned them for a threat.

Get a hold of yourself. You’re not inside anymore. This is Millners Kill. Nothing happens here.

But the thought of Simone’s murder countered that attempt at logic. Of course, that had been ten years ago. The killer, whoever he was, had gotten away with it, but he hadn’t made a move since then.

A group of kids cycled past him and Steve forced himself to unclench his fists. Just kids. At the end of the street he turned right. He took some deep breaths and released the tension in his shoulders. He tried to focus on the houses and changes that had occurred around him. Some had been renovated, some had been painted, but most looked the same. When he reached the end of the street, he kept going. And again at the next street. He turned now and then, not by any conscious choice, not with any clear destination. And he found that by focusing on the houses he was able to actually enjoy himself. He still tensed when cars came around, but he couldn’t expect too much on his first day.

He passed the Neimans’ house, where a couple of kids played on the lawn. He walked past the Forresters’ house, where Mr. and Mrs. Forrester were out, walking around their house, making sure everything was buttoned up. They glanced over at him, but Steve looked away quickly before they got a good look at his face. They’d always been nice to him. He didn’t want to know what they thought of him now.

He made it all the way to the elementary school. The playground was empty, its giant metal spider and monkey bars sat abandoned, unused. But the swings blew, as if invisible children were at play. He smiled. He’d really liked this school, especially the playground.

He glanced at his watch. With a shock, he realized that forty-five minutes had passed since he’d left his grandmother’s house. He’d need to head back right away if he was going to make it back in time for dinner. He hurried past the elementary school and turned onto Tulip Lane. Two more lefts and he’d made almost a complete circle. He reached his block, coming in from the other side.

His shoulders ached from moving the sandbags earlier, but he enjoyed the feeling. It had felt good to do manual labor. Plus, hauling those bags of sand had helped out the town. His brother had been right about that. Maybe he was right about the rest too.

In fact, until the chief had shown up, Steve had actually been able to relax a little. And he and Carlos had gotten along really well. The chief had ruined all that, of course, but now that Steve thought about it, he realized that today had shown him that maybe he really
could
have a normal life. At least, outside of Millners Kill.

Steve smiled, feeling a sense of possibility for the first time in ten years.
Maybe I can do this.

“Hey.”

Steve tensed and glanced around, not seeing anyone.

“Hey. Up here.”

Steve looked at the tree branches above him. The kid in the red fleece from earlier was crouched on a branch up near the top. Steve paused, unsure what the hell was going on.

“You okay, kid?”

The boy shook his head, his eyes wide. “I can’t get down.”

Steve looked around. “Um, should I get someone?”

The boy shook his head again, and Steve could hear the tears in his voice. “No. If my brother finds out—” The boy didn’t complete the rest of the sentence, but Steve got the drift. He looked around again. No one.
Oh crap
.

“Okay, I’m coming up.” Steve grabbed the lowest branch and pulled himself up.

It had been almost twenty years since he’d climbed a tree. He didn’t remember it being this difficult or scary. Then he realized why: it was easier to climb when you were small and completely unaware of gravity. The wind pushed and pulled at Steve as he climbed higher. He swallowed, glanced down, and wished he hadn’t.

“Careful,” the boy called out as Steve’s foot slipped.

Heart pounding, Steve held tightly to the branch above him. Giving himself a moment, he looked up at the boy. “What are you doing up here anyway?”

“My brother and his friends said I was too small to climb it.”

Steve nodded. Boys and their stupid dares. “Well as far as I can tell, you did climb it. They didn’t say anything about climbing down, did they?”

The boy shook his head, and a smile broke across his face. “No, they didn’t. You won’t tell, will you?”

Steve started to climb again. “Your secret is safe with me.” He pulled himself up to the branch the boy was on. “What’s your name?”

“Micah.”

“Hi, Micah. I’m Steve.”

“I know. Everybody knows who you are.”

Steve sighed.
Oh, good. My return is already common knowledge.
“Well, why don’t you inch back this way and we’ll get out of here?”

Micah slid himself carefully toward Steve. Steve reached out his hand when Micah was close and pulled him over. Micah threw his arms around Steve and hugged him tight.

Momentarily stunned, Steve went still. Then his arms closed around the trembling boy. He patted him on the back. “It’s okay. You’re all right now.”

Micah nodded into Steve’s chest but didn’t seem inclined to let Steve go.

Steve patted him on the back one more time before pulling him away. He looked into pale green eyes that stared back at him from a mixed-race face. Mocha skin and a slight slant to his eyes suggested a black and Asian heritage.

“Okay, Micah. Why don’t you hop on my back and we’ll get out of here?”

Micah carefully climbed around Steve, placed his arms around Steve’s neck, and squeezed tight.

Steve tapped Micah’s arms. “Maybe loosen up just a little bit.”

“Sorry,” Micah mumbled, and he released some of the pressure on Steve’s neck.

“Here we go.” Steve stepped down to the next branch, careful to keep his weight forward. Luckily, the wind died down just then and the climb down was uneventful. Less than two minutes later, Steve stepped onto the ground. He knelt down and Micah clambered off.

“All good,” Steve said, standing.

Micah looked up at him. “Thanks. You’re nice.”

Steve nearly laughed. If only the rest of the town were so easy to convince. He pictured everyone in town getting caught in a tree. Steve could go around and rescue them all one by one and everyone would like him again.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Steve said.

Steve turned to go, and Micah fell in step next to him. “How come you killed that girl?”

Steve glanced down in surprise, stunned yet again. “Um, I didn’t.”

Micah nodded his head so hard Steve worried it might roll off his shoulders. “That’s what I thought. You’re too nice. My brother and his friends said you were real dangerous. Said you would kill someone as soon as look at them.”

Great.
“So how come you’re talking to me?”

Micah shrugged again. “You don’t look like you killed anybody.”

“Yeah? And what do people who kill people look like?”

Micah paused for a moment. “I guess they have blood on them.”

“What if they killed the person a long time ago?”

Micah looked at him, uncertain. “I guess they look mean. And you don’t look mean.”

Steve smiled. If only the jury had thought the same way. Steve wasn’t sure what to say to the kid, so he stayed quiet. Micah didn’t seem to mind. He babbled on about the kids at school, his mom’s meatloaf, which apparently he hated, and the fact that his dad worked too much to come see him and his brother very often.

Steve stopped in front of his grandmother’s house and looked down at Micah. “So I told them that I could too climb that tree,” Micah said.

“Well, you did.”

Micah beamed. “Yeah, I did.” Then his smile slid away. “You won’t tell anyone I didn’t climb down, will you?”

Steve shook his head. “Nope. Not a soul.”

Micah’s smile returned. “Thanks. See you later.” Micah ran back down the street.

Steve watched him cross the street and go up a path four houses down. He shook his head.
Cute kid
. He smiled as he thought about Micah’s non-stop conversation.
Well, at least not everyone in this town hates me.