Blood and Sympathy (14 page)

Braden
Sayer

Uncle Jeb had knocked on the trailer door last
night to give me an alarm clock, reminding me there would be no excuse to be
late for work. He also drove home the fact that he expected me to toe the line,
and that included going to church with him every Sunday. I could handle that.
When he dropped the bomb about picking up Olivia and Claire Copeland to ride
along, my insides twisted into ropes of anxiety.

After my shower, I stood in front of the
scratched-up medicine cabinet mirror at the loser staring back at me that needed
a shave. Uncle Jeb had stocked up on shaving cream, razors, deodorant--all the
essentials needed for hygiene--and I was glad he had. Since I was seeing Claire
for the first time in weeks, I sure didn't want her thinking I looked like a
bum.

Uncle Jeb bought me five pairs of socks and five
pairs of underwear. He told me that would be enough for the first week, and
after that, I could take my paycheck into town and get some more when I did
laundry. It shamed me that the only thing I had to wear to Church was blue
jeans. They were stiff and scratchy when I tugged them on, but they were clean
and didn't have holes in them. I decided to walk up to Uncle Jeb's house and
see if he had a shirt I could borrow. I didn't think wearing a t-shirt with the
marina logo on it would be the right thing to do.

The sheriff's car was sitting in front of the main
house when I walked up and the skin prickled at the back of my neck. It made me
feel itchy, and I rubbed my hands over my arms. Uncle Jeb looked up and spotted
me approaching. He waved me over.

"Sheriff Thirtyacre, this is my nephew
Braden." The sheriff bobbed his head once in my direction. "Braden,
the sheriff here says Brogan walked away from the work site yesterday
afternoon. He wants us to keep an eye out. If we see him or suspect he might be
in the area, we're to give the department a call."

I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head.
"You think he'll come here?"

"We just don't know. We know he has a
girlfriend, but other than that, there isn't much to go on. Nobody saw him walk
off," the sheriff said.

"And if that ain't enough good news for one
day," Uncle Jeb interjected with a humorless snort, "some sneaky
bastard broke into the marina last night."

"You think maybe Brogan did it?" My eyes
went wide. Something had been telling me Brogan would stir up shit just as soon
as he got out of WTJDC. I had hoped to get a bit more solid footing beneath me
before he started in with his revenge.

The sheriff exchanged a glance with Uncle Jeb and
said, "He seems to have it in for you, Braden. Just watch your back, son,
and let us know if you see or hear anything. We have no reason to believe he's
dangerous at this time."

Not dangerous? Who the fuck were they kidding?
Brogan was capable of anything. Of that, I was absolutely confident.

"Anyway," Uncle Jeb said, painting on a
smile, "you plan on going to church looking like that?"

I glanced down at my bare chest and remembered the
reason for my visit in the first place. "No, sir I was wondering if you
might have an extra shirt I could wear. Don't seem fitting for me to wear a
company t-shirt."

He snorted. "All right then, go on inside and
find ya something."

Sheriff Thirtyacre got in his squad car, and I
hurried into the house. My skin crawled at the thought of Brogan coming here
and trying to fuck with my life again. I found a dress shirt in Uncle Jeb's
nearly empty closet, and though it didn't fit the best, it still beat the
alternative.

Uncle Jeb was waiting in his pickup when I came
outside, buttoning the shirt as I walked. He gave me a sideways look.
"Don't worry about Brogan. They'll find him and haul him back to juvie
before he gets too far."

"I hope you're right," I said, wishing I
held his optimism.

It looked bad. I hadn't even been home a full
twenty-four hours and the marina gets broken into. What the fuck? I hoped Uncle
Jeb didn't think I had anything to do with it. The fact that they stole the
boat anchor I'd made such a big deal about made me feel guilty as hell. Even
though I didn't know anything about the break-in, why I had such a guilty
conscience, I didn't know.

Claire was trying to maneuver herself out the door
and down the steps of their house when we pulled up the driveway. I hopped out
of the pickup before it had even stopped.

"Oh hey, let me help you with that," I said
to her. The fuck if she wasn't even more beautiful than ever.

To be honest, it was both the longest and the
shortest ride to church ever. I was hyper-aware of her body heat mingling with
mine. She smelled just like fresh baked cherry pie and I felt my dick stiffen
uncomfortably.

I couldn't tell you what we talked about either, except,
for her explanation about why she hadn't showed up at WTJDC for my release. And
me mumbling something about forgiving her.

I'm sure she thought I was the biggest fucking hick
east of the Mississippi.

After church, she seemed worried about her sister.
I couldn't shake the God awful feeling I had that something bad had happened,
and that somehow, Brogan was involved. I hoped, for everyone's sake, it was
just my overactive imagination, and that I was way off-base.

Brogan Sayer

I slept restlessly until sometime before dawn. I
needed to get out of the house and burn off some excess energy. I snagged Aja's
car keys off the hook on the kitchen wall and slipped out. She was sleeping
like a baby and I didn't think she'd even notice I was gone.

Weston was on the other side of the lake from
Hensteeth. If I remembered correctly, I just had to follow the gravel road
around the lake and that would take me directly to the marina. There were two
main ways in. One was the private entrance by Uncle Jeb's house, and the other
was a public access road.

I drove real slow and parked in the lot near the
boat ramps. When me and Braden was little, we played hide and seek in the
woods. We'd spend all day long running back and forth between Uncle Jeb's and
where the boats put in during the summertime.

The sun hadn't come up yet and it was still pretty
dark in the parking lot. When I started walking toward Uncle Jeb's, it was easy
to see where I was going because they'd installed lights along the path. It
didn't take too long for me to make my way to the marina, and even less time to
crack open the side door to the shop. I didn't know what the fuck I was looking
for, but figured maybe there'd be some money stashed somewhere.

Uncle Jeb hadn't bothered locking the office door.
Jack-fuckin'-pot. Aja had a worthless piece of shit flashlight on her keychain
that didn't help much, but I didn't want to risk turning on any lights. I damn
near fell on my ass tripping over a big old hunk of lead and I shined the light
down to see what it was. A boat anchor. I don't know why, but I wanted it. The
cash box wasn't hard to find. It didn't have a lot of money in it--only around
fifty bucks or so.

I tucked the bills in my front pocket and scooped
up the anchor on the way out. I could have shut everything back up but figured
fuck it, let 'em know they got robbed. I didn't give a rat's ass.

About halfway back to the car, I heard someone
coming down the path and ducked off in the trees to wait for them to pass. I
could see her, but she didn't see me. When she got closer, a big grin snaked
across my face. It was the preacher's daughter. It was my lucky day. I got even
with that sorry ass uncle of mine for disowning me, and now I was about to get
back at my pussy brother by fucking his woman.

Just thinking about it made my dick twitch. What
better way to kill two birds with one stone? Piss off Braden by fucking Claire,
and get me a little pussy to boot.

I waited until she was right on top of me and
jumped out behind her. Foolish bitch couldn't hear me because she was listening
to music. I caught her by the back of her shirt and clamped my hand over her
mouth. She froze for a split-second before she began fighting me like a rabid raccoon.
She was one feisty bitch and got me good alongside the face with her fucking
claws.

"Stupid cunt!" I hissed. She'd drawn
blood. I slammed her head face first into the trunk of a tree and smiled when
she slumped to the ground. She didn't hardly weigh nothing, so I drug her off
the trail and into a nearby cave, out of sight.

She came to and began to struggle for all she was
worth while I was trying to get her shorts off. I smacked her hard upside the
head, and that settled her down. With one hand over her mouth to keep her from
screaming her fool head off, I was able to get her panties down around her
knees with my other.

"I like it when you fight, Claire. Tell me,
did you fight my brother like this?"

She froze and her eyes widened and she shook her
head.

"I'm going to take my hand off your mouth. If
you make a sound, I'll bash in your fucking skull. Got it?"

She nodded. I didn't trust her, but since I
planned on killing her anyway, it didn't matter if she screamed. As soon as I took
my hand away, she opened her mouth and started wailing. I grabbed hold of that
boat anchor and silenced her permanently.

The lake was only a few yards off the path, so I dragged
her body over to the edge. I had to hurry; the sun was starting to come up. I
ran back to where I parked the car and grabbed a tow rope from the trunk. I
hurried to the corpse and hooked the rope to the boat anchor and wrapped the
other end around her.

Not far up the shore was somebody's old flat-bottomed
fishing boat. I wrestled her body into the boat and paddled out a ways before
dumping it over the edge into the water. I wouldn't have to worry about the
corpse floating to the top, not with that anchor weighing it down.

My eyes darted around the water's edge, looking
for anyone who might have seen what I'd done. I rowed back to shore, climbed
from the boat, and headed back to where the car was parked.

Aja was still sleeping when I got back to the house.
I took a quick shower and crawled in bed beside her.

Claire
Copeland

Dad and I hurried home after church, hopeful that
Olivia would be waiting for us, but she wasn't. The unspoken concern between us
hung heavy in the air. I had to get out of the house before he drove me crazy.
A cigarette would hopefully help calm my nerves. I chain-smoked three before
hobbling back inside.

"Did you have a fight with your sister?"

My eyebrows drew together. "What? You're
blaming me because Olivia missed church?"

He tugged at the collar of his dress shirt. "Nobody's
blaming you, Claire. It was a simple question."

Heat pumped through my veins and I folded my arms
in front of me. "Why don't you say what you're really thinking? That
Olivia couldn't possibly do anything wrong. That this is something I would do,
but never your perfect daughter."

His face darkened, and a vein popped in his
forehead. I'd struck pretty close to home with my remarks and he was pissed. He
slammed his fist down on the table, sending the salt and pepper shakers
crashing to the floor. I flinched in surprise; my dad usually did a good job of
keeping his temper under wraps.

"You don't know how valid those remarks are.
Yes, this is exactly something I've come to expect from
you
. Do I blame
you for what's going on? Think about it, Claire. If you hadn't been drinking
and crashed Olivia's car, you would have been with her this morning. It would
have been like every other Sunday where my daughters crept silently into the
back row at church, late as usual."

My fingers curled around the crutches, and if I
didn't still need them to get anywhere, I would have thrown them across the
room. I bit back the bitter words I wanted to tell him and swallowed hard.
Maybe someday I'd have the guts to tell him what I thought of him and his
self-righteous ways. For now, my sentiment of
fuck you
,
you son of a bitch
silently raged inside my head.

A knock on the door brought things to a temporary
ceasefire. He narrowed his eyes at me and pointed. "This is not
over," he muttered just loud enough for me to hear as he brushed past to
see who had stopped by.

Tears pooled on my lower lashes and I blinked
hard, trying to keep them from spilling down my face.

"Claire?" Braden's silky voice was
practically a whisper.

I turned to face him. "Hi." I tried to
smile, but a traitorous tear slipped out.

Braden reached toward me and hesitated, sticking
his hands in his pockets and staring at his feet instead. "Uncle Jeb
wanted to stop and see if Olivia was home yet."

"No." My eyes darted to my dad who was
busy talking to Jeb. "I'm getting worried. This is not something Olivia
would do."

"What's your dad think we should do?"

I frowned and hobbled over to sit down. "I
don't know. We hadn't gotten past him telling me how this is all my fault for long
enough to figure out what we ought to be doing."

"That doesn't seem fair." Braden's
forehead crinkled. "How could it be your fault?"

I rolled my eyes and blew out a deep breath.
"As far as my dad's concerned, Olivia is the model daughter. She would
never do anything wrong or get involved in anything the least bit questionable.
That's my job."

"Braden, we best be getting back to the
marina, son," Jeb said. Braden smiled apologetically at me and squeezed my
hand. "I'm sure she's okay. Try to think positive, alright?"

I bit my lower lip and nodded. "Okay."
As much as I wanted to believe that she would stroll in any minute with some
perfectly good explanation, my chest felt heavy and I had a bad taste in my
mouth.