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Authors: R.D. Brady

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BOOK: Runs Deep
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CHAPTER 13

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T
he wind shook Declan’s car as he pulled into the parking lot at Mel’s diner. He turned off the engine, leaned on the steering wheel, and stared up at the darkening sky before turning his attention to the water in the distance. Along the shore, trees swayed violently. Water plumed in the air in angry bursts.

A feeling of dread settled in the base of his stomach.
Oh, this is not going to be good.

A patron from the diner opened the door and fought the wind to her car. Declan had promised Bess he’d bring dessert, and he thought one of Mel’s lemon meringue pies would be just the thing. So he’d called earlier today, and Mel promised to have one ready for him.

Steeling himself, he pushed open the car door. The wind immediately wrenched it out of his hand. When he stepped out, the wind practically blew him over. It took him a few long seconds to wrestle the car door shut again. Then he hurried over to the diner entrance, his unzipped jacket snapping in the wind.

The bell above the door jangled as he pushed through. He paused for a moment to catch his breath and smooth down his hair.
Man, that wind got fierce.

Only a few of the tables were taken, and a few of the stools. Mel’s was usually busier at this time.
Everyone’s probably home getting ready for the storm.

Mel appeared from the kitchen, pushing through the doors behind the counter, a plate balanced in each hand. Catching sight of Declan, he smiled. “Hey, Declan. How you doing?”

Mel was pushing sixty and had owned the diner for the last thirty years. He was about five ten and had a strong build—a remnant of his Navy days. He used to keep his hair cut close, too, but nature had taken care of that for him now. His bald head gleamed in the diner’s bright lights.

Declan walked over and took a seat at the counter. “I’m good.”

Mel dropped off the plate farther down the counter before coming back to stand in front of Declan.

“How are
you
doing, Mel?” Declan asked.

Mel shrugged, picking up the coffee pot from the burner behind the counter. “Can’t complain. We were pretty busy for most of the day, although it’s slacked off some. Coffee?”

Declan nodded, flipping over the cup in front of him. Mel filled it up. Declan smiled as the smell reached him.

Mel replaced the coffee pot back on the burner. “I’ll grab that pie for you as soon as I get these orders out.”

Declan took a sip and sighed, feeling the warmth course through him. The storm had brought a big dip in the temperature, and Declan hadn’t been prepared for it. “Take your time. I’m enjoying my coffee.”

“It’ll be just a few.” Mel hustled back into the kitchen.

Declan looked back out the window.
Did the bridge just move?
He narrowed his eyes and stared before shaking his head.
Must be the storm playing tricks with my eyes.
He took another sip.
Well, at least Steve’s first day went well.
When he’d spoken with Bess, she’d made it sound like everything was perfect. And while Declan seriously doubted that raging optimism, it did mean there probably hadn’t been any huge issues.

He felt a little weight lift off his shoulders at the thought. He knew Steve was a man, but Declan just wanted his transition to be as bump-free as possible.

The bell above the door jangled again. Russ pushed through, stopping in the entryway to look around. Catching sight of Declan, he nodded with a smile and headed over.

Declan returned the smile, inwardly shaking his head. Russ never seemed to understand that town cops and state cops were supposed to butt heads. Declan had asked Russ about it one day, and Russ had looked completely confused. “Why would I do that? You’re trying to help and I’m trying to help. As far as I’m concerned, that’s all that matters.”

Not for the first time, Declan hoped that Russ would consider running for Chief sometime in the near future. The town could use some of his open-mindedness.

Russ took a seat next to him. Declan took one look at him and reached over the counter for the coffee pot. Russ flipped over the cup in front of him.

Declan poured him a cup. “You look like you could use it.”

Russ poured a small mountain of sugar in it and added a dash of milk. He took a sip with a grimace. “God, I hate coffee.”

Declan let out a laugh. “So why do you drink it?”

Russ shrugged. “I’m a cop. I’m pretty sure we’re required to drink it.”

“How’s it going?”

Russ shook his head. “It’s crazy. People are losing it. Mrs. Beale over on High Street accused the Schroeders of stealing her mums.”

“Did they?”

“Well, seeing as the Schroeders moved away twenty years ago, I doubt it. Mrs. Beale suffers from dementia. Her kids were supposed to come back to town and grab her before the storm, but unsurprisingly they didn’t. Luckily her neighbors agreed to take her in. She’s been fine for the most part, but the storm’s setting her off.” Russ paused. “And just about everybody else.”

“Storms will do that.”

“Oh, there’s also a missing teenager.”

“What? Who?”

“Elise Ingram. She never showed up home after work.”

“Any ideas?”

“She’s run away before and has a boyfriend over on the mainland. But her friends say she was supposed to meet up with them and never showed. That’s not like her.”

A missing teenager just when Steve shows up in town.
Damn it.
But Declan also knew that with a missing teenager, it was usually a case of simple running away, not some sort of abduction. “What are you guys doing about it?”

“The regular—calls to the boyfriend, a BOLO. But she’s eighteen. We can’t really do much more than that, at least not yet. And with the storm…”

Declan shook his head. “I’m surprised the governor didn’t call for an evacuation. With the reports, it looks like it might even be worse than originally forecasted.”

Russ shifted his eyes away and stared at his cup.

A feeling of dread began to build inside Declan. “Russ? The governor
didn’t
order an evacuation, did he?”

Russ sighed. “It wasn’t an order so much as a strong suggestion—at least that’s how the chief is taking it.”

“The chief? Why is he calling the shots? What about the mayor?”

“Mayor Do-Nothing? He’s out of town. As soon as he heard about the storm, he took off with his family. Left Keith in charge.”

“Oh, for God’s sake. Is Keith at least going to tell the town?”

“I don’t think so. I tried to talk him out of it, but you know how he gets.”

Mel bustled in from the kitchen, two more plates in hand, a pie box dangling from his fingertips. He dropped the plates off at another table and headed back to Declan. “Here you go. Hey, Russ.”

“Hey, Mel.”

“What do I owe you?” Declan asked, pulling his wallet from his back pocket.

Mel waved his money away, his cheeks growing redder. “It’s on me. Tell Bess I said hello.”

Declan had always suspected Mel was a little sweet on Bess. Looks like he was right.

Declan slid off the stool. “I’ll do that. And thanks.” He turned to Russ. “Be careful out there. And if you need anything, you give me a call.”

“Will do,” Russ said, grimacing as he took another sip of coffee.

Declan headed for the door, his thoughts heavy with the upcoming storm. Keith was an idiot. When he pushed open the diner door, a gust of wind nearly tore the pie box from his hands. He cradled it to his chest like a football as he made his way to the car.
Damn, that wind’s getting really strong
.

The wind almost yanked the passenger door from his hand as he opened it. He carefully placed the box on the floor, then wrestled the door shut. He walked around to the driver’s side, shaking his head.
If this is the pre-storm, the actual storm is going to be a monster
.

A groan of metal snapped his attention to the bridge.
What the hell was that?

He peered at the old bridge, and there was a sinking feeling in his chest. Was he seeing things, or was the bridge actually shaking? He watched for a long minute until the wind gusted again. This time he knew it wasn’t a trick of the light. There was definitely a tremor in the metal.

God damn you, Keith
, Declan cursed as he pulled out his phone. There had to be a way to go over Keith’s head. It was already past five o’clock though. He glanced at the darkening sky and at the bridge as he dialed.

The bridge gave another shudder.

Declan listened to the call ring out.
Come on, someone pick up.
But he knew that even if someone did pick up, it might already be too late.

CHAPTER 14

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T
he smell of lasagna greeted Steve as he walked in his front door. His grandmother’s cooking was so far the one thing that had thoroughly lived up to, if not surpassed, his memories. He tossed his jacket over the banister, then backtracked and hung it in the closet.

Walking into the kitchen, he took a deep breath. “Now that smells delicious.”

His grandmother placed the silverware on the table. “Wash your hands. It’ll be ready any minute.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, turning around.

As he headed toward the bathroom, the phone rang. Spying it on the table next to the stairs, he called out, “I’ll get it.”

“No, Steve. I—”

Steve picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Murderer,” a voice hissed. “They should have put you to death. If they won’t do it, I will.”
Click
. The call was disconnected.

Steve pulled the phone from his ear and stared at it. Slowly he turned to his grandmother, who was wringing a potholder in her hands. “Now, Steve—”

He cut her off. “How often have you been getting these?”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Not very often.”

He knew she was lying. She lied so badly even a child could tell. “Grandma, have you been threatened?”

“Steven James Kane, you listen to me. I don’t care about a bunch of redneck idiots. I care about you. I can handle a few phone calls. You’ve had much more to—” The rest of her words were choked off, and there was a tremble in her chin. Taking a steadying breath, she continued, “You’ve had to endure more. And I would endure tenfold these calls to have you home. So you just go wash your hands and get ready for dinner and forget about that.”

Steve looked at his grandmother, the strongest woman he knew. A feeling of tenderness washed over him. “I love you, Gran.”

She smiled back at him. “I love you more.”

He grinned at the familiar exchange, but then his smile faded. “But I don’t like you having to put up with these calls.”

“The Lord doesn’t give us any more than we can handle,” she declared before heading back into the kitchen.

Steve watched her go, noticing her shoulders were a little more bent—her gait a little slower than he remembered.
I’m not so sure about that
, he thought
.

The idea of someone threatening his grandmother… Steve took a deep breath. No. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. He’d talk to Jack and Declan. Make sure they knew what was going on.

CHAPTER 15

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A
n hour later, the phone call was still on Steve’s mind, but he thought he had put on a good show in front of his grandmother. He leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. “That was delicious.”

Declan grinned at him. “Which serving? One or two?”

Steve pretended to ponder the question for a moment. “I’m going to go with two. It seemed to have a little more time to settle.”

Declan laughed, pushing his chair away from the table and looking across the table. “Bess, it’s a good thing I don’t come into town more often. Eating like this, they’d have to roll me into my car.”

Bess smiled. “You could do with a little fattening up. And any time you want a home-cooked meal, you just stop by.”

Steve stood up and started collecting the plates, but Bess shooed the two men toward the living room. “You two go chat. I’ll get the dishes.”

“Gran…” Steve said.

She fixed both of them with the look. “Out—both of you. Shoo.”

Declan grinned at Steve before heading for the living room. “
I
know better than to argue with her.”

Shaking his head, Steve followed.

Declan took a seat on the couch. Steve sat on his grandfather’s old recliner. Through the window, he could see the wind whipping through the trees. The rain had begun about an hour ago.

“It’s started,” he said.

“Yeah.” Declan sighed.

Steve looked over at him. “Want to tell me what’s on your mind?”

Declan leaned back. “The governor ordered us to evacuate. Keith decided to ignore the order.”

“You’re kidding.” Steve shook his head. Of course Keith overrode the evacuation order. That was just like Keith. “Is it really going to be that bad?”

“I was at Mel’s before I came here. Took a look at the bridge. It was already groaning. I’m a little worried.”

“From the look on your face, I’d say you’re more than a little worried.”

“True. There was a deputy at the diner. I asked him to see if they could position someone at the bridge. It’s going to be closed until after the storm. I don’t think anyone should try crossing that thing.”

Steve nodded, not knowing what to say. There was nothing he could do about the bridge, that was for sure.

But there
was
something he might be able to do about the phone calls. He glanced back at the kitchen and saw his grandmother bustling about. He leaned toward Declan, his voice low. “There’s something worrying me too.”

Keeping his voice equally low, Declan leaned forward. “What?”

“Grandma’s been getting some nasty calls. I know it’s probably just a bunch of cowards, and nothing will happen, but—”

Declan nodded. “I know someone in Millners Kill’s police department who’s, well, not an asshole. I’ll talk to him. See if he’ll do some drive-bys.”

Steve felt some relief. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

Declan nodded, but his face was still tight.

“What is it?” Steve asked.

“Listen, when people realize the bridge is closed, they’re going to get a little panicked. It might be good for you to lay low, just until things calm down.”

Steve looked at him for a long moment. “Wasn’t really planning on throwing a party. I’m guessing you mean just stay away from people as much as I can?”

Declan blew out a breath. “Look, as long as things stay calm, it won’t be a problem. But—”

“But you don’t think the police will exactly be running to my rescue if the town turns against me.”

Declan nodded. “Something like that. So just to be safe, maybe stay inside as much as possible, okay?”

Steve nodded, picturing a mob of angry people trying to get to him—and his grandmother getting caught in between them. He gripped the sides of the chair. “Okay.”

Declan’s cell phone chimed, and he glanced down at the screen. “Got to take this.” He walked over to the front windows.

Steve couldn’t overhear the conversation, but Steve could tell he was getting more agitated by the second.
Uh-oh.

Declan stalked back into the room. “God damn idiot.”

“I’m guessing Keith.”

Declan gave an abrupt nod. “He pulled the deputy off the bridge. That guy is going to get somebody killed. I’m heading over there now. Keith needs to understand how important this is.”

“Go. Give him hell.”

Declan gave Steve a smile. “I’ll go say goodbye to your grandmother first.”

Steve’s thoughts were dark as he watched Declan head to the kitchen. If the bridge went, they’d all be stuck here for God knew how long. And he’d be stuck trapped with the assholes who were making those calls.

He shook his head.
No sense borrowing trouble
, he thought, using one of his grandmother’s favorite phrases.

He heard the back door close and got up to watch Declan back out of the driveway. Declan practically peeled away, he was driving so fast. Steve watched him go, his dread growing.
It’ll be all right.

But then he noticed another car drive slowly by the house. He’d seen it earlier today as well
. Probably just someone from the neighborhood
, he thought. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that the person driving the car seemed awfully interested in his grandmother’s house.

BOOK: Runs Deep
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ads

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