Closer Than You Think (20 page)

‘Thank you. But I thought you’d get to go home now.’

‘Not yet. I’m on call for hearing-impaired patients since I’m the only doctor who signs. I would have been called in even if you hadn’t been here.’ She pointed to the scrubs she’d placed on the table when she came in. ‘The nurse said you were still wearing bloody clothes.’

Faith’s fingers rose to tuck the collar of her sweater more firmly against her throat. ‘I’ll borrow the pants. My sweater is okay.’

Dani’s smile was understanding. ‘I’ll tell Deacon to knock before he comes back in. Take care, Faith. I hope I see you again, and if you decide to come down to The Meadow, let me know. I’ll meet you there and show you around.’

‘I will.’
If I still have a license when Novak is finished with me
. ‘Thank you.’

Cincinnati, Ohio, Monday 3 November, 11.05
P.M.

Deacon parked his SUV behind Aunt Tammy’s minivan, swallowing a wince at the sight of the classic Lincoln Continental that was Jim Kimble’s pride and joy. He’d hoped his uncle wouldn’t be home, but with it being so late, he’d known he would be.

So Deacon had come bearing gifts.

A light was on in Greg’s room upstairs and the television flickered in the darkened living room. Feet in pink fuzzy slippers were visible on the recliner that pointed toward the TV. Deacon tapped lightly on the front door, in case Tammy was asleep. The door opened without a sound and Deacon found himself eye to eye with the reason he’d never sought an assignment in Cincinnati up until now.

Jim Kimble was the only man Deacon had ever met who could look intimidating while wearing a faded flannel robe and pink slippers. Maybe it was his unflinching stare, his square jaw, and the fact that he was built like a six-foot-tall brick. It might have been the fact that he was a tough cop with a reputation for banging heads together to keep the peace.

But it was more likely because Jim had been the only man who’d ever forced Deacon’s father to back down, which he’d accomplished by sending Arnie Cavendish flying through a plate-glass window with a single punch. Arnie had had it coming, that was for damn certain. But Deacon had been afraid of Jim for years thereafter. His uncle had never raised a hand to him, but the threat was always there.

Jim still had the power, with a single arched brow, to make Deacon feel like an inadequate, scrawny teenager. He was giving him the look right now.

Without saying a word, Deacon lifted the bags he’d brought. Skyline coneys in one hand and Graeter’s ice cream in the other. The chili dogs were a Cincinnati staple and the ice cream was his aunt’s favorite.

Jim looked the offering over, then stepped back, motioning Deacon inside with a jerk of his head. Deacon followed him into the kitchen, held up two fingers, then watched as Jim took two plates from the cupboard and set them on the table.

In silence Deacon put two chili dogs on each plate, then held the pint of ice cream out for his uncle to check that it was sugar-free before putting it in the freezer.

‘At least you’re not trying to kill her anymore,’ Jim grunted.

Deacon barely kept from rolling his eyes. Tammy’s doctor had limited her sugar intake, but the barb was aimed at his and Greg’s fight that afternoon. ‘I wasn’t trying to kill her earlier today, either. I lost my temper. I’m sorry.’

Jim sat at the table and downed a coney in three bites. ‘You eating?’

‘No. I can’t stay. I have a witness getting worked on in the ER and I have to go collect her. I just came by to check on Tammy and talk to Greg.’

Jim shook his head, lips hard and thin. ‘That boy is killin’ her. Breaking her heart.’

‘I know.’ Deacon picked up one of the plates to take up to Greg. ‘He’ll have to stay here tomorrow until his meeting with the principal. I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere else to put him.’

‘That house of yours almost done?’

‘Almost. End of the week, just like I promised. We’ll move Greg’s stuff on the weekend.’

‘See that you do.’

Gritting his teeth, Deacon walked away from his uncle and went up the stairs, flicking the switch outside Greg’s room. If Greg wasn’t wearing his hearing aids, he wouldn’t hear a knock.

There was no answer, so Deacon tried the door, surprised when it was unlocked. Greg was lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, throwing a basketball a few feet into the air and catching it. He looked at the coneys, then back up at Deacon.

‘You plugged in?’ Deacon asked, touching his own ear.

With a long-suffering sigh, Greg put his aids in his ears and turned them on. ‘What?’

‘Food?’ Deacon asked with only a little sarcasm. He put the plate on Greg’s nightstand and walked to the window and stared out, his hands deep in his pockets, trying to think of what to say. Behind him he heard the rattle of the coneys’ wrapping paper.

‘Why do you do that?’ Greg asked, his mouth full.

Deacon looked over his shoulder. ‘Why do I do what?’

‘Stand at the window and stare out. You always stand there. Since I was a kid.’

Deacon sat on the corner of the bed so that Greg could see his face. ‘That was my window, over there, across the way.’ He thumbed at the window behind him. ‘You know that.’

He and Dani had lived in the house next door until Arnie Cavendish had died in a bar brawl. Then Deacon, his mother and sister had moved into this house with Tammy and Jim and Adam until Bruce Novak had come into their lives. Bruce had been good to his mother and had adopted him and Dani so that they didn’t have to say ‘Cavendish’ out loud ever again.

‘This was my room for two years,’ Deacon added. ‘I shared it with Adam. But I always missed my old room. It had glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling.’ The new tenants had taken them down and thrown them away. It had been another reminder that he and Dani and his mother were homeless, dependent on the good will of others. Specifically Uncle Jim.

The fact that Jim owned the house next door had made Deacon angry then. Jim still made him angry more than two decades later, but not for the same reasons. Now he understood that Jim and Tammy had not been rich and needed the rent income from the house to pay its mortgage. He understood that they had never planned to be landlords, that they’d only bought the house so that his mother could have a decent place to live because she was pregnant with Deacon, and Arnie had insisted he could only afford subsidized housing. Deacon knew that after Arnie’s death, his mother couldn’t afford the rent on her salary alone, so Jim had had no choice but to rent it out to strangers.

What made Deacon angry was that Jim had never taken the time to explain the situation to a scrawny, scared little boy so that he knew he wasn’t unwanted or a burden. In Jim’s mind, Deacon should have been satisfied that he had a roof over his head and food in his belly. Explanations had been unnecessary.

Greg laughed derisively. ‘Glow-in-the-dark stars. You were such a nerd.’

‘I still am. Look, I don’t have much time. I wanted to apologize to you. Not for confronting you about the suspension, but for the way I did it. I never should have let myself get so angry.’

Greg’s eyes, one blue and one brown just like Dani’s, briefly widened in surprise. But he shrugged. ‘Whatever, D. It doesn’t matter.’

‘Yeah, it does. I was tempted to use my fists on you today. I’m sorry for that too.’

A shocked flicker, covered by a sneer and another shrug. ‘I would have hit you back.’

‘Which is my point. If you’d hit me back, where do you think we would have ended up?’

‘You in the hospital,’ Greg said cockily. ‘I would have handed you your ass.’

Deacon shook his head. ‘Not now,’ he said seriously. ‘Maybe in a year or two, when you’re fully grown. Right now, I’m bigger than you are and my fists are bigger than yours and I’ve been trained in how to use them. I would have done more damage to you than you could have done to me. That would have been wrong. And I never would have been able to take it back.’

‘You want me to say I’m sorry too, for yelling at you? Fuck that.’

Deacon winced. ‘Yelling is a shitty way for us to start off together. Plus, it’s a waste of energy on my end when you can just turn off the hearing aids and let me tire myself out.’

Greg grinned. ‘I thought your veins were going to pop right out of your neck.’

Deacon’s chuckle was rueful. ‘So did I.’ He sobered. ‘We upset Aunt Tammy.’

Greg’s grin disappeared like mist, his expression going as stony as Jim’s had been.

Deacon sighed.
I should have never agreed to let Jim raise you
, he wanted to say, but he didn’t. Greg had enough issues with respect without Deacon giving him additional ammunition against their uncle. Jim had allowed Tammy to take Greg in and raise him as her own. He’d made sure Greg was fed and clothed and schooled, that he’d had braces and hearing aids . . .

The man deserved some respect for that, if nothing else.

Deacon wanted to believe that he could have been a better guardian for Greg. He might be now, but as an eighteen-year-old with an infant? It wasn’t going to happen. He’d made an attempt to take custody, but Jim had told him in no uncertain terms that he’d squash Deacon in court.
Like a bug
had been his exact phrasing.

‘I didn’t mean to make her upset,’ Greg said.

‘I know,’ Deacon murmured, feeling a little hope for the boy. ‘Did you tell Tammy that?’

Again the sneer. ‘No. Why should I?’

‘Because she loves you and always has. Because you don’t have to be a tough guy around her. Because it’s the right thing to do. Why did you get into this fight at school, Greg?’

Greg rolled his eyes. ‘
Now
you ask me?’

‘Yeah, because it occurred to me as I was driving away that I hadn’t. I just yelled. So why?’

Greg looked away again. ‘They had it coming. Damn bullies pissed me off.’

Deacon frowned. ‘They bullied you?’

Greg’s chin went up and he visibly braced himself before meeting Deacon’s eyes. ‘Yes.’

There was something there, Deacon thought, troubled. His brother was clearly lying. ‘Why didn’t you tell a teacher? Why take it into your own hands?’

‘Like the teachers would do jackshit,’ Greg muttered. ‘I can take care of myself.’

‘And that worked out well,’ Deacon said mildly. ‘I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your appointment with Miss Pohl. Be ready. I have to go now. You should use tomorrow to start packing your things. Saturday is moving day.’ He went to the door, stopped with his hand on the knob, then turned to meet Greg’s eyes again. ‘I wouldn’t have hit you today. I won’t hit you in the future. You have my word. I want you to know that you’re safe with me.’

Greg unexpectedly launched himself off the bed and walked over to the window, looking out much as Deacon had done. ‘Fine,’ he said, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

Deacon felt a spurt of fear. ‘Greg, what’s going on here? Is somebody hitting you?’

‘No. I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me. Thanks for the coneys.’ Greg pulled his hearing aids out and tossed them on the bed. ‘I’m tired. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Deacon couldn’t let it go. He crossed the room to stand beside his brother, so that they could see each other’s reflection in the window. ‘Does Jim hit you?’ he asked, enunciating the words so that Greg could read his lips.

Greg’s mouth fell open in shock. ‘No. Where’d you pull that from?’

From too long on the job
, Deacon thought. Greg’s surprise seemed genuine. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t happening here. ‘Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.’ He let himself out with a quiet good night to Jim, who grunted in response, then waved to the two old ladies who lived across the street when they peeked at him through their curtains.

Sentries
, he thought and once again wished someone had been there for Arianna tonight.

Someone had been, though.
Faith Corcoran.
Deacon started his SUV, his mind conjuring a picture of her face. Her troubled green eyes. The hands she’d folded neatly in her lap to hide their tremble when she’d dropped that little bomb.
I stalked him first.

What the hell had she meant by that? He was going to find out.

Quickly he checked his phone to see if anything had changed in the time he’d been in Tammy’s house with Greg. Nothing much. Tanaka was still processing and Adam was still with Sheriff Palmer, who’d brought in a canine search team. Still no trace of Corinne Longstreet.

He saved the email from Dani with ‘Your witness’ written in the subject line for last. Expecting a summary of Faith’s injuries, he was surprised to find a set of links to a victim message board. He glanced at the clock on his dash. He’d already used most of the time Dani had given him. He should go back to the hospital. But he was too curious about the links to put his phone down now. He’d read for just a minute. Then he’d go back.

Eastern Kentucky, Monday 3 November, 11.10
P.M.

The buzzing of his phone interrupted his rhythm, making the shovelful of dirt he’d thrown over his shoulder fall short of the pile. It was a notification from his tracking app. Faith’s red Jeep was on the move. Away from the house. Back towards the city. At least something was going right tonight.

It was time to deal with the woman once and for all. Before she went into the house and ruined everything.

Hurry and finish this job
. He had to get back to the city, but first he needed to dispose of his cargo. The hole wasn’t quite as large as he’d wanted it to be, but it would have to do.

He found a wheelbarrow propped up against the cabin and pushed it to the van. He dragged the power tech’s body out first, then used the barrow to dump the body into the hole.

Excellent
. Plenty of room left for both the locksmith and the stew-making trespasser.

He made quick work of it, dumping them in, then filling the hole with the dirt he’d removed. The bodies were hidden beneath eight inches of earth, enough to keep the smell contained and the scavenger animals away. Especially after he replaced the floorboards.