Runs Deep (8 page)

CHAPTER 16

D
eclan could see the bridge lights up ahead. “God damn it.”

The rain was still coming down, but it had eased up some.

He pulled up in front of the bridge entrance, using his car to block one of the two lanes leading onto the bridge. When he got out, Russ hustled over from his cruiser, which was parked next to the bridge.

Russ put up his hands. “I’m sorry, Declan. The chief pulled me off.”

Declan swallowed down his annoyance.
It wasn’t Russ who was being an ass
. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

The bridge groaned. Declan whipped his head around, his stomach plummeting. He couldn’t leave this to Keith. He turned back to Russ. “Russ, call your chief. If he doesn’t get some blockades up, I’m going to have him suspended from duty pending a review of his actions.”

Russ gulped, looking like a beached fish. “Um, okay. I’ll call him.”

“Give me your keys.”

Russ handed them over.

Declan ran over and hopped into Russ’s squad car. He could already see a car approaching, heading for the bridge. He quickly drove Russ’s car over and parked it next to his own, blocking both lanes leading onto the bridge.

Then he pulled out his own cell and dialed the state police. After quickly explaining the situation, he got the officer to agree to blockade the bridge from the other side. Declan disconnected the call and let out a breath. At least he didn’t have to worry about people crossing from the mainland.

When he looked up from his phone, Russ was leaning into the car that had approached. Russ stepped back, and the car did a three-point turn and headed back the way it came. But another car was headed toward them now.

Russ came over to stand next to Declan. “That’s the chief.”

Declan nodded but didn’t say anything. The Jeep jarred to a stop, the back end fishtailing a bit on the wet surface.

Keith hiked himself out, covered from head to toe in bright yellow rain gear. He marched over to Declan. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he barked.

“What am I doing?” Declan’s temper exploded. “The governor ordered you to evacuate. You ignored that order. You have placed everyone in this town in a very dangerous situation.”

Keith snorted. “Bunch of terrified paper pushers. We can handle a little rain.” He turned to Russ. “Move your cruiser.”

“God damn it, Keith!” Declan yelled. “Look at the bridge. It’s unstable. You knew that before the damn storm. With the wind, it’s not safe. Anyone who goes across that thing is risking their life.”

“It’s fine,” Keith said. “It’s been here for decades. It’ll survive—”

A metal screech tore through the air. All three of them turned to look at the bridge. It swayed for a moment before going still.

Declan looked back at Keith, whose face had gone white. “Still think the bridge is just fine?”

Keith glared at him. “I won’t have the state police coming in and taking over. You don’t have any cause—”

Declan took a step toward him. “You want
me
to take over? Because I assure you, I could make a few calls and have you sidelined. The bridge is closed until the storm has passed. God willing, we can open it back up after the storm.”

Keith tried to stare him down. Declan didn’t flinch.

Finally Keith looked away. “Fine. I’ll close it. But as soon as the storm passes, it’s getting opened back up. And I’ll make sure everyone in Millners Kill knows you’re the one who stranded them during the storm.”

Keith stomped back to his car, calling back over his shoulder, “Russ, put up a blockade.”

“Yes, sir, Chief,” Russ said, saluting the chief behind his back.

Declan smiled in spite of himself. But his thoughts quickly darkened again. Panic was going to set in once people realized that Millners Kill was now officially cut off.

It’ll be okay
.
As long as everything else stays calm, it’ll be fine.

CHAPTER 17

S
teve sat in his grandfather’s recliner, a baseball bat next to him on the floor. They’d gotten a few more threatening phone calls after dinner. He’d finally ended up unplugging the phone.

And after his little chat with Declan, who had told him the bridge was going to be closed until after the storm, Steve planned on staying down here for a little while—just in case.

A soft knock at the back door woke him just as he was drifting off. At first he didn’t recognize it, thinking it was just the house creaking. But then it got a little louder. Steve glanced at the cable box—9:30 p.m.

Outside, the wind howled and the rain had picked up speed. Whoever was at their door was awfully determined, coming out on a night like this.

Steve grabbed the bat from next to the recliner and gripped it tightly, although he was pretty sure that if anyone meant him or his grandma harm, they wouldn’t knock first. He walked to the door, flipped the switch that illuminated the back steps, and peered through the yellow curtain on the door.

A woman around his age stood there, blinking in the light on the covered back porch. Soft, wavy brown hair fell over her shoulders and halfway down her back. She was looking back behind her when Steve peered out, but then she turned and faced the door.

And Steve got his first good look at her. The breath left his lungs.
Julie
.

His hand trembling, he rested the bat against the kitchen cabinets before unlocking the door. Steeling himself, he opened it.

“Julie. Hi.”

“Steve.”

They stared at each other for a moment, neither seeming to know what to say. Steve finally got a grip on himself and took a step back. He gestured toward the kitchen. “Do you want to—”

She shook her head, taking a step back.

Of course she doesn’t want to come in, you idiot. She thinks you killed her sister.
Self-conscious, Steve put his hands in his pocket. “Okay. Um, what can I do for you?”

“Could you come out here?”

Steve hesitated, peering into the dark. It was quiet. If she’d brought someone with her, he couldn’t see or hear any sign of them.

“Sure.” He stepped out and closed the door behind him.

Hands back in his pockets, he looked at her before his eyes cut away. The words slipped out before he could catch them. “I didn’t kill her, Julie.”

She gasped, and he cursed himself. Why the hell had he said that? He’d promised himself after he’d gotten locked up that it didn’t matter. It was done. He’d been found guilty. It didn’t matter if he did it or not, and he was done trying to get people to believe him. But he’d always wanted to say those words to Julie. And have her reply, “I know.”

But this wasn’t one of his daydreams.

There was a tremble in her voice when she spoke. “That’s not why I came here.”

Steve waited for her to say more, but she just stared past him. Finally, he broke the silence. “Why did you come?”

For the first time, she looked him in the eyes. “I don’t know. I heard you were back. I didn’t want to just run into you.” She gave a small laugh. “I thought this would be easier.”

“Not so much, huh?” Steve said softly, feeling the gulf that existed between them now.

She shook her head. “No. Not so much.” She paused. “I loved her, Steve.”

“I know.”

“I loved you, too.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t sure he could say
anything
to that. His throat felt tight. He took a breath.

“Just do me a favor, okay?” Julie asked.

He nodded. “Anything.”

“Stay away from me. I’m here for a few days and then I’m gone. And I don’t want to deal with any drama, okay?”

Without waiting for an answer, she turned and walked away.

CHAPTER 18

S
teve watched Julie walk around the side of the house in the rain and disappear. More than anything, he wanted to run after her. Beg her to believe him. But he didn’t. He just watched her go.

He sat down on the old lounge, not caring about the rain that was coming in through the sides of the porch.
My God—Julie Granger.
She looked good. The promise of beauty had been there when she was younger, but it had been fully realized at some point while he was away.

His childhood was defined by his friendship with her. They’d met in kindergarten, and from day one, they’d been best friends, always in and out of each other’s houses. They’d had tons of sleepovers, although Julie’s parents had ended those when they’d become teenagers. But it had never been romantic between them—not, at least, until that last year. He’d begun to notice how good she looked in jeans, how well she filled out her shirts. But he’d been too terrified to do anything.

And then Simone had been killed.

Julie had actually come to him the morning they’d found Simone. Tears had poured down her cheeks. “She’s dead, Steve. Simone’s dead.”

Steve had been shocked. His grandma had overheard and ushered the two of them into the living room, wrapping a blanket around them both. Steve had held Julie while she cried her heart out.

And he’d cried with her. Simone had always been nice to him. And Steve had gone out of his way to be nice to her as well. She had become like his big sister.

He still remembered the shock on Julie’s face when Keith came to his grandmother’s house and arrested him two months later. He and Julie had been putting together a puzzle in the living room. As Steve was taken away in handcuffs, Julie had opened her mouth, but no words came out. Yet as soon as the door had closed behind him, he’d heard her heartbreaking screams.

She hadn’t spoken to him again since that day—not once. At the trial, she wouldn’t even look at him. She hadn’t been there the day of the sentencing. And now here she was. Just one block over.

But she might as well be on the other side of the planet.

Somewhere down deep, Steve had always harbored the belief that she knew he couldn’t harm Simone. Outside of his family, Julie had been the one that knew him the best. In fact, she probably knew him better than even his family did.

His gut clenched. Now he knew the truth. Julie thought he killed Simone.

He was surprised at how much that knowledge hurt. He’d told himself years ago it didn’t matter what anyone thought. But it did.

It mattered what Julie thought.

Steve dropped his head into his hands. He felt the tears build at the back of his eyes. He hadn’t let himself cry since the verdict. But for just tonight, he’d let himself feel the loss of his one true friend.

CHAPTER 19

J
ulie let herself in at the back door of her parents’ house, then closed it behind her, turning the deadbolt and pulling the chain. Leaning heavily against the old oak door, she ran her hands through her hair.

Why did I do that?

She should have just kept her distance. But when her father had told her Steve was back, she’d felt this undeniable pull. She’d had to see for herself who he was. To see the monster that she had somehow missed in their years growing up together.

She walked over to the kitchen table and sat. Resting her head in her hand, she looked around the kitchen. It had been entirely remodeled after Simone’s death.

She remembered that morning like it was yesterday. Her mother’s keening wail had pulled her from sleep. Julie had stumbled down the stairs, fear making her whole body shake. She’d stood in the kitchen doorway, unable to step inside. Her mother and father were crouched low over Simone, blocking her view, but Julie could see the blood—splashed across the walls, the blinds. A giant pool of it soaked the bottoms of her parents’ robes.

Julie must have made a sound, because her father turned. He yelled for her to go to her room and stay there. Terrified, she fled up the stairs, but the image of the blood stayed with her, working its way into her dreams. For a few years, it had even invaded her waking life.

Julie dropped her head into her hands.
Maybe I shouldn’t have come home.

Her parents had finally agreed to sell the house a year ago. Learning about Steve’s impending release had been the final push. But Julie had never understood how they could have stayed in the first place. She hadn’t been able to set foot in that kitchen for over a year after her sister’s death, even after it had been remodeled and all traces of Simone were gone.

But now, as she looked at the sleek dark cabinets, she understood why they had stayed. They had wanted to be close to Simone. And this house was as close as they could get to her.

Julie looked out the window as a light turned on three houses over—Steve’s grandmother’s kitchen light. When they were kids and Steve stayed at Bess’s house, they would use the kitchen lights to send Morse code messages to each other. Julie remembered sitting at the kitchen table, writing out dashes and dots.

She stared at the long light. There was no message in it tonight.

Years ago, she’d accepted that Steve had killed her sister. At least, she thought she’d accepted it. And guilt had eaten at her ever since. After all, it was Julie who had brought Steve into their home. Granted, they’d been kids when they met, but she blamed herself nonetheless.

The prosecution said he’d been obsessed with Simone—and that when Simone rebuffed his advances, he’d lashed out and killed her. Julie had let them convince her, but the doubts lingered. He’d been nice to her sister, sure, but Steve had been nice to everyone. Had she really misjudged him that badly?

And when she saw him tonight, all those old doubts came flooding back. It was easy to paint him as a monster when she wasn’t looking in his eyes.

He’d changed since she saw him last—there was no doubt about that. He was tall and really muscular. He looked tough, hard—but after ten years in prison, he’d have to be. But what had surprised her—and unsettled her—was that she could still see Steve, her friend, in his eyes.

Julie stood up and headed for the stairs. It didn’t matter. He was responsible for his sister’s death. Kind eyes didn’t change that fact.

It was time for her to put all of this behind her. She’d ride out the storm, fix whatever needed to be fixed afterward, and then beat a fast path out of town. Her life in Millners Kill was over.

Just like Simone’s was.