Runs Deeper

by R. D. Brady

  Steve and Reggie arrived just as Jared pulled into the parking lot. Steve waved Reggie away. “I’ve got the kids. Go see if you can help.”

  Reggie wasted no time hurrying over to Jared’s car and helping pull the detective from the back. Steve couldn’t help but blanch at the dark stain dotting Detective Gomez’s shirt. It looked like they had wrapped towels around him, but those towels were now soaked red. Nevaeh and Julie held the doors to the clinic open. A gurney was just inside the door, and the detective was placed on top of it.

  Steve unstrapped both the kids and carried them both in at the same time. He managed to snag the door handle and slide in sideways with the kids, but then he stopped dead inside the door. Reggie was holding Sullivan back.

  Sullivan’s face was red, the veins in his forehead standing out. “She is not working on my partner!”

  Julie didn’t stop the pressure she was placing on Gomez’s wounds. But she looked up long enough to glare at the detective. “Then he will die. I’m all you’ve got.”

  All the fight seemed to go out of Sullivan. Nevaeh gave Julie a nod, and the two of them wheeled the detective back behind the counter and through the doors.

  Reggie released the detective. “There’s a lounge out back. I can put some coffee on.”

  Sullivan nodded his head slowly, his gaze scanning the room. His eyes skipped over Steve and then doubled back. “You bastard!” He lunged toward Steve.

  Reggie darted in front of him, and it was like Sullivan ran into a brick wall. Reggie spun him around, quickly putting him into a wristlock. “Detective, you are fast making me lose my patience. I understand that your friend is hurt, and you are in an emotionally volatile state. But I’m about to lose my damn cool. Steve is currently holding my son and his daughter. Did you not notice them?”

  Sullivan looked over his shoulder and blanched. Shame slashed through his eyes before his gaze shifted to Steve, his eyes narrowing. “But he did this. He stabbed my partner.”

  Reggie let out a growl. “Nevaeh and I have been with Steve and Julie for the last five hours. They have not been out of our sight. We have not been out of theirs. So when was your friend hurt?”

  Reality seemed to fall over the detective. “But he said …”

  Reggie released the detective and took a step back, raising his hands. “I know your friend lost his sister. But he is blind when it comes to Steve. You don’t seem as blind. Don’t go losing your vision now. Steve and Julie have both been with us for hours.”

  Sullivan straightened, running a hand through his hair. “He said it was you.”

  Steve shook his head. “I don’t know how to explain that. But it wasn’t me. And now I need to get these kids somewhere where they can sleep.”

  The door behind them opened, and Declan and Russ stepped in. Russ looked between the three men. “Everything all right in here?”

  Reggie stared at the detective. “Is it, Detective?”

  Sullivan ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I just need some coffee.”

  “Well, let me show you where you can find some.” Reggie led the detective past the counter, and they disappeared between the doors.

  Declan reached out and took Trey from Steve’s arms. “What was that all about?”

  Russ smiled down at the boy, who reached out a hand for him. Russ let him wrap his chubby little hand around his finger.

  Steve shifted Bess to his other shoulder, patting her back. “Oh, you know, the usual. Somebody attempted to murder someone and then said I did it.”

  “You okay?” Declan asked.

  Steve thought about lying but just didn’t have it in him. “No, I’m really not.”

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  The building was cold as he let himself back into the vet’s office. He pulled off his gloves and stared at the blood that had dried there. One of the downfalls of killing in the winter: It was very difficult to get all the blood off your hands before it froze there.

  He walked to the sink and turned the water on hot. He ran his hands under the flow, remembering the look on the detective’s face. What an idiot. He’d thought it would take a little more to get him to believe he was Steve. But that was the first name that had been spit from the man’s mouth. It didn’t matter that he and Steve weren’t the same build or height. Nope, guy with a knife? He must be Steve Kane. Honestly, he should get a medal for killing him. He obviously wasn’t a good cop. Who knew how many people he’d falsely locked up over the years?

  He shivered. God, this place really was cold. He didn’t like that. But he also knew that no one would ever think of checking here. The vet spent two months down in Florida every year. He closed up shop during that time. He wasn’t due back for another two weeks.

  But Death wouldn’t need a full two weeks. Nope, after tonight, he would be heading out of Dover. He thought he’d try the West Coast, maybe Oregon. He pictured wide-open spaces. That sounded nice.

  He smiled, remembering the reporter’s face when he’d realized the mistake he’d made. God, that had been priceless. The guy had been completely shocked.

  Seriously, letting someone into your car who was completely covered while a serial killer was on the loose? As far as Death was concerned, he got what he deserved.

  Death glanced at the clock and then hurried down the hall. Time was moving quickly. He needed to get going or else he’d miss him. He grabbed the dolly and loaded the canisters of nitrous oxide and desflurane. Humming, he pushed it down the hall.

  This was going to be fun.

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  The scent of formaldehyde was strong in the embalming room of the funeral parlor. The walls were white cinder blocks, the tile a pale green. There was a stainless steel table in the center of the room and a large refrigerator at the back of the room to store bodies before they were embalmed. No pictures adorned the walls, only lines of equipment that most normal people would never want to learn the use of. There were no windows to offer any natural light, only strips of florescent lighting in the ceiling. The embalming room was also located in the basement of the funeral home, only adding to the depressive nature of the place.

  But Declan would rather be here than at the clinic.

  He’d sat at the clinic for only twenty minutes before he knew he needed to get out of there. He needed to do something. Jack had nearly taken Russ from him. Last night he’d sat next to Russ’s bed, feeling useless and trying not to imagine a life without him. He couldn’t do it. If something happened to Russ, he didn’t think he’d be able to come back from that.

  Jack had nearly taken Steve and Bess too. He couldn’t imagine getting past that either. And he couldn’t spend more time just sitting. He needed to feel like he was making some progress in finding out what the hell was going on. So he decided to head to the funeral home. He’d done a quick preliminary report on both Laura and Minnie, but they weren’t his main focus.

  He wanted to take a look at Genevieve Tilden. She was the one victim who didn’t fit with any of the others. If he could exclude her from Jack’s victims, that might help with the timeline.

  Genevieve Tilden’s body had started to thaw by now. According to the information he’d been able to gather on her, she was only forty-one, but she looked much older. She was extremely thin, making Declan wonder if one of her medical issues involved digesting food.

  Her skin, though, there was something about it. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she had started to decay before she had frozen solid. Which meant she’d been dead for quite a while.

  But figuring out if that was the case was beyond his skill set. Right now, his only focus was to preserve whatever evidence she might have on her.

  He recorded everything so that he could hand it over to the medical examiner with the body. He got a core temperature reading. It was fifty-eight degrees. Obviously Mrs. Tilden had been frozen for a while. He marked the time and date, as well as the temperature of the refrigerator so that someone smarter than him could do the math and
figure out exactly when she’d been frozen.

  He covered her hands with plastic bags after inspecting them and cleaning under the nails. He didn’t think he’d find anything. As far as he could tell, her hands looked unmarked. It didn’t appear as if she’d struggled with her attacker, assuming there was an attacker.

  It was entirely possible this was just a natural death, one of unfortunate timing, that they were lumping it in with the other murders.

  He did a cursory glance over her body but didn’t see anything that indicated any sort of violent attack. Maybe it was just a natural death, a heart attack or blood clot. He didn’t know how to explain Rory’s absence, but maybe she really had just passed—

  He paused as he pulled down the high collar of her nightgown. There was a red mark along the base of her neck. He pulled the nightgown down enough to see the entirety of the neck. A red line covered three quarters of her neck.

  Someone had strangled her using something less than an inch wide. It could be anything—an electric cord, a piece of rope. But the chances of her death being natural had just dropped dramatically.

  He couldn’t know for sure that that was the cause of death, but it was the only suspicious sign he’d seen at this point. With her health history, it was possible if someone attempted to strangle her, she could’ve simply had a heart attack as a result. It would still be murder, but it might not be the person they were looking for.

  Maybe it had been her son. He’d read Genevieve’s file and could imagine what a handful she’d been. Maybe Rory had finally snapped and then run, realizing what he’d done. To be honest, right now, that seemed like the best-case scenario.

  He took off his gloves as Russ stepped into the room. Declan looked up, frowning at the paleness of Russ’s face. “What are you doing here? I told you I’d find my own way to Steve and Julie’s.”

  Russ shrugged. “I thought Steve and Julie needed a little time to themselves.”

  “Julie’s home?” Declan glanced at the clock, surprised that three hours had passed. “How’s the detective?”

  “He’s okay. The wounds managed to miss all vital organs, although they looked really bad. He got lucky. Julie called in Theresa, who’s an EMT. She’s staying with him at the clinic along with the detective and two deputies. They’ll transport him to the hospital in the morning. How’s it going here?”

  “I think she might have been strangled, but I don’t have a time of death, although I think it was long before all this started.”

  “So it’s not connected?”

  Declan sighed. “I just don’t know. With the state the body’s in, it’s really hard to say for sure. I have a feeling she’s been dead for at least three weeks, if not longer.”

  “That doesn’t fit. You suspecting the son?”

  Declan nodded. “Those closest to us are the ones most likely to kill us.”

  “The sad truth of homicide in America.”

  Declan made a few more notations on his chart before placing it on the table. That was about as much as he planned on doing tonight. “I’m just about done here.”

  “Reggie and Nevaeh are heading over to Steve and Julie’s for dinner tonight too after they drop Trey off at Robert’s. They’ll be there in about an hour.”

  The idea of spending a night with some friends sounded just about perfect right now. “That sounds great. I’ve got maybe ten more minutes here, and then we can get going.”

  Russ let out a yawn before taking a seat on a stool in the corner. “That sounds good.”

  Russ’s yawn set off something in Declan. He yawned as well, all of a sudden feeling incredibly tired. It must be all the stress. He hadn’t gotten a decent night’s sleep last night or really any night since all this had begun. And when he was awake, he kept trying to figure out where Jack was and where he would strike next. It was an exhausting existence he was living right now.

  Russ leaned on the counter, his head on his hand, struggling to keep his eyes open. “I’m really tired all of a sudden.”

  “So am I,” Declan said as Russ nearly fell off his stool. “Russ!”

  Declan dashed over and caught him before he could hit the floor. Russ’s eyelids flickered. “Something’s wrong … Gas.”

  Declan’s gaze shot to the vent at the base of the floor. He could just make out a small white mist coming through it. He lowered Russ to the floor and then tried to get up, but his knees wouldn’t cooperate. He fell face down.

  He tried to pull himself along the ground, but his limbs felt so heavy. The door to the lab opened. A man stepped in wearing a gas mask, a black ski cap covering his hair. He knelt down in front of Declan.

  “Hello, Declan.”

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  The house was quiet. Steve didn’t like the feel of it. And he hated that. When he and Julie had bought this house, he had felt nothing but joy. Finally he had a true home.

  But somehow, in a few short days, even his home felt different, colder. He walked over to the thermostat and cranked up the heat, hoping that maybe just a little more warmth might help the house feel less abandoned.

  He had searched the house before Julie and Bess had come in. There was no one here and no sign that anyone had been here. Declan and Russ would arrive in a little bit. But for right now it was just Julie, Bess, and Steve.

  Steve had the shotgun in his hands, even though he hated the thing. But he wasn’t taking any chances.

  He’d been tempted to stay another night at the fire station. But they couldn’t live there. Besides, Bess needed to be home. They all really needed to be home. Home was where you were supposed to feel the most comfortable. Home was where you were supposed to feel the most safe. Neither Julie nor Steve felt safe. But for Bess, they would fake it.

  Julie and Bess were upstairs getting showered and changed. He walked into the kitchen, placing the shotgun along the back of the counter. He opened up the fridge, trying to figure out what the plan for dinner was going to be tonight. He sighed, reaching for the leftover lasagna. “Looks like it’s you again, my friend.”

  He could hear Julie and Bess on the stairs. Julie was getting Bess settled in front of the TV. He preheated the oven and looked up as Julie stepped into the room. He looked past her and saw that Bess was completely focused on her show. He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so now TV’s all good?”

  “Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Julie walked to the cabinet and started pulling out dinner plates and cups. “How long do you think Russ and Declan will be?”

  “Shouldn’t be long. Declan won’t want Russ to be on his feet for that long.” Russ was a lot better, but he was still recovering from his plunge in the lake. Steve’s phone beeped, and he pulled it out. “Bet that’s them now.” He opened the text message.

  Then he went still.

  There was a picture of Russ and Declan, both bound and gagged. Underneath the picture was a message: You have 15 minutes to get to the lumberyard or they die.

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  Steve stared at the screen of his phone. Declan was glaring at the camera, but Russ’s eyes were only at half mast. How did Jack get them? They were both police officers. They were both smart and careful. And yet Jack had somehow gotten to them. The proof was right in front of him.

  He took a breath and typed a response.

  “Steve? I was thinking we’d just warm up one of these casseroles. Mrs. Poole left a—” Julie stopped as Steve turned around to face her.

  Her gaze searched his face, dread pooling behind her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Jack’s got Declan and Russ.” He turned the phone so she could see the screen.

  She hurried over, taking it from his hand, her eyes scouring the image, as if somehow she could find something that would make it untrue. “How?”

  “I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter. He has them.”

  Julie’s gaze narrowed as she spied the response Steve had sent. “You can’t go out there.”

  “What do you w
ant me to do? He’ll kill them. You know that.”

  “And he’ll kill you too. You know that.”

  “Julie, it’s Declan and Russ.”

  Julie’s eyes closed. Her head dropped. “I know. But you can’t go alone. We need to call Nevaeh.”

  “You call her.”

  “I’ll call her on the way.”

  Julie turned toward the kitchen, but Steve grabbed her arm. “You can’t come.”

  She shook her arm free. “Of course I’m coming. You’re not facing him alone.”

  “You have to take care of Bess. One of us has to survive this and be there for her.”

  Julie stared into his eyes. “You’re going to survive this, do you hear me?” Her voice broke on the last word.

  Steve didn’t respond. He just pulled her to him and held her tight. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Julie Granger.”

  Julie let out a small sob, and her shoulders shook. “Don’t go, Steve.”

  He pulled back to look into her face. Tears crested along her eyelashes. He wiped the first one away. “You don’t mean that. You love Declan and Russ just as much as I do.”

  “I hate this. I hate him for what he’s done to us. I hate what he’s done to so many people.”

  Steve didn’t have a response to that. Because what could he really say? His brother destroyed every life he touched. No one who knew Jack Kane walked away from him unscathed. Steve kissed her and then moved toward the living room. “Call Nevaeh. I need to get going. He only gave me fifteen minutes to get there, and with the snow, I don’t know how I’m going to make it in time.”

  Bess looked up from the couch. “Go where, Daddy?”

  Steve’s heart clutched. He needed to hurry. There was no doubt about that, but he also knew that there was a very good chance that this was the last time he would see Bess. He knelt down next to her. “Uncle Declan and Uncle Russ are in some trouble. I’m going to see if I can help them.”