by Ronica Black
Brynn gripped the wheel with panic still coursing through her. Blood was beneath her nails and embedded into the lines of her knuckles. She’d only had time enough to change clothes and take a quick rinse under the water. And despite worrying about her family and her sister and running from the law, her mind kept returning to Vander and whether or not she was alive. She could still feel her warm blood, see her delicate blond lashes and pale eyes. There was so much life there in her eyes. Depths she was surprised to see.
She slowed as they approached the lake. She exited and found her way to a neighborhood near the water.
“Where the fuck are we going?” Bea demanded. She rolled up her window and once again ducked in her seat.
Brynn searched streets, then house numbers. She pulled over near her destination and examined the surroundings. Most people were still at work, and those that weren’t were inside, hiding from the growing heat and humidity. Unlike in her neighborhood, where windowed air conditioners were weak and kept most on their porch praying for a breeze.
Bea looked around, and her face contorted in anger. She figured out where they were. Small towns kept very little private. And with Bea’s doings, she probably knew where every cop lived and hung out.
“Tell me you’re kidding,” she said.
Brynn kept watch on the nice home, small in size but decent and on the water. A covered boat was in the driveway, along with a covered Sea-Doo.
“Stay here.” She popped her door and took a step out.
Bea grabbed her arm. “Why the fuck are we at Vander’s home?”
Brynn shook her off. “I told you, I made a promise.”
She pushed out of the car, closed the door, and hurried across the street. She jogged to the back of the house where there was a large, elevated redwood deck and a lower level to the house she couldn’t have seen from the front. She made her way to the lower level door and checked the knob. It was locked, but the door and knob were old, much like her own basement door. She dug in her back pocket and removed her wallet and a Costco card. She inserted the card into the doorframe at the knob and popped the door. She listened for an alarm. Nothing. Darkness encased her as she entered, along with the smell of grease, paint, and must. Another Sea-Doo sat to her right, guts displayed, with tools and parts surrounding it on wooden workbenches. Another one was covered and farther back in the dark. In front of her, stairs and a door at the top. She tugged on a string and a light bulb popped on.
Squinting in the bright light, she planted her foot on the bottom step and noise came from the door above. She stopped and made out the pet door just before a dog pushed through, barking. Brynn backed away as the dog ran down the stairs and stopped, barking at her in high pitch. The German shepherd mix was brave but also afraid.
She cooed him and carefully sat on the concrete floor. She looked away from him and waited. Slowly, he quieted and crept toward her. She comforted him and rested her hands at her side, palms up. He stepped to her and pressed his nose to her jeans and then her hand, which caused him to whine. She knew he smelled Vander, and she felt for him. She touched him and he licked her, first her hand and then her face.
She stood and clipped him to a leash she saw on a bench. He followed her back out the door, which she locked behind her.
“Good boy.” She glanced around quickly, checked his name tag, and moved back to the side of the house where she stopped and looked for people. When she was satisfied, she hurried back to the car, dog in tow.
Bea was cussing before she even got the door open to put him in the back.
“A dog? A God damned dog? Brynn, have you lost your mind?”
Brynn climbed in and put the car in gear. She drove slowly down the street and found her way back to the entrance of the highway.
“If Vander dies, there’s no telling how long he would be left in that house.”
Bea shook her head. “Motherfucker.”
“No, actually, I think his name is Gunner.”
“Is he a fucking cop? One of those K-9 dogs? You know, attack on command and sniff out drugs?”
Brynn looked at him in the rearview mirror. He was sitting and panting.
“I don’t know. He is a German shepherd.”
“Fuck.” Bea propped her elbow on the door and rested her head on her fist.
“He might be good to have around. You know, alert us to people.”
“Yeah, and he might tackle me when I light up my pipe.”
Brynn grimaced. “Even after I went to prison for you…and not to mention we’re running from the law…you bring drugs?”
“I can’t live without it. It fucks me up bad to go without. People like you just don’t understand.” She dug into her pocket. “But don’t worry. I’m getting into downers now.” She popped a few pills in her mouth and forced a swallow. “This will help calm me down.”
“My God, how much did you just take?”
“Relax, I’ve got a tolerance now. What I just took, won’t even hardly touch me. And it’s expensive. Which is why I have this.” She dug in the other pocket and pulled out a small rubber balloon. She smiled. “Know what this is?”
Brynn looked away. “Fuck off. I don’t want to know. And wipe that damn grin off your face. You have no reason to be proud.”
“Maybe not proud, but this right here, makes me very, very happy.” She slipped it back into her pocket and leaned against the seat in a relaxed pose. She closed her eyes. “Wake me in a few or when you hit a gas station. I need a Mountain Dew.”
Brynn accelerated, anxiety building. She knew what was in the balloon. A good number of women in prison were addicted to it. And the walls of the prison didn’t seem to stop them from getting it. Fucking heroin. People were using it instead of the costly pills. Opiates were opiates. People didn’t care about the form they came in, just the cost. And now Bea. God damn it. She might as well kiss her good-bye now. Heroin owned you and no one could seem to escape.
How had this happened? She was raised in the same house as Bea and Billy, and while it hadn’t been ideal or even close to good, she’d never even considered drugs. Not after she’d seen what it had done to their parents and other family members. And she’d tried her best to raise Bea and Billy well, but it had been difficult with their parents partying before they passed, people in and out all day and night. But she had done her best. It just hadn’t been good enough.
“And boy, have I paid the price,” she said, causing Gunner to perk his ears. Next to her, Bea snored and the quiet allowed her to think of Vander. Giving Bea a careful glance, she plucked the pay as you go phone from her back pocket and dialed information. She connected with the hospital and waited, nerves on edge.
A woman answered with a sweet, deep Southern drawl.
“Yes, can I have Sergeant Vander’s room, please?”
“One moment, please.”
Brynn heard her typing.
“I’ll connect you now. Thank you.”
Brynn sat straighter. Another woman answered. Brynn hesitated, but only for a moment.
“I’m calling for Sergeant Vander,” she said.
“She’s resting and can’t take calls.”
“Resting? So she’s okay?”
“She’s in recovery. Who may I say is calling?”
“Her sister.”
“She doesn’t have a sister…Who can I say is calling?”
“Thank you, I just needed to make sure she was okay.”
Brynn ended the call, heart racing. She was alive. She made it.
Brynn sighed with relief. Thank God. Now she just had to let her know about her dog. Hopefully, when she called again, she would be able to speak to her. Brynn cleared the call and returned the phone to Bea’s pocket. She wouldn’t understand the phone call or the need to check on Vander. Bea just wasn’t made that way.
Brynn slowed and exited at a gas station. Instead of parking in the pavement lot, she parked in the field behind the building to avoid cameras. She gave Bea a rough shove and climb
ed out, opening the back door for the dog. He jumped out, happy to go explore. Brynn found him easy to walk. He heeled and listened well. After he finished his business, she returned him to the car, left the air on, and entered the store. She grabbed a Coke and some Advil and found Bea chatting up the cashier. Brynn got the feeling they knew each other.
Brynn put her goods on the counter and nudged Bea aside, giving her a look, letting her know she needed to shut her mouth. Brynn paid for them both and pushed out the door with Bea hot on her tail.
“What the hell, Brynn?”
Brynn kept walking, wiping fresh sweat from her brow. She climbed in the car and shut the door. Bea followed her with a pinched face.
“He’s my friend.”
“Doesn’t matter. The last thing we need is you running your mouth, creating a trail.”
Bea scoffed. “He won’t snitch.”
“Yeah, right. You better hope not.”
Bea cursed and opened her Dew, nearly downing the whole thing. “You never believe me.”
Brynn didn’t answer, just pulled back on the highway. Bea was right. She never believed her, but there were a million reasons why.
“The cop lived,” Brynn said to test her reaction. “Vander.”
Bea stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. “So?”
“So, that’s good. We did something good. We helped a cop. Saved her life.” Come on, Bea, care. Care about someone, something, anything.
Bea belched. “What about the other dude?”
Brynn closed her eyes for a moment as a new sensation washed over her. Guilt. She should’ve checked him better. “I don’t know. I’m not sure where they took him.”
“Some place where they work miracles,” Bea said. “That dude looked seriously fucked up when we drove past him. He looked dead.”
“Yes.” But that didn’t mean he was. They should’ve taken him too. But she’d been too panicked, afraid. She’d just wanted to get out of there.
“I’ve never seen so much blood,” Bea said. “They used him for target practice.”
“Just shut up. Be quiet, okay?”
Bea kicked her feet up on the dash. “Grumpy.”
Brynn rolled her eyes. “Gee, I wonder why. It’s been such a fabulous day.”
“Not my fault you wanted to play hero.”
Brynn gripped the wheel, fighting the urge to backhand her. She’d never hit her; that was Uncle Mo’s job. And he’d hit them all plenty enough. Didn’t mean she didn’t think about smacking her from time to time. Especially when she had attitudes like now.
“Bea. Shut up. Now.”
Bea laughed but plucked out a cigarette and lit it. It occupied her and kept her from speaking, and Brynn relaxed a little. Gunner barked and Bea covered her ears.
“What the fuck?”
“Lower the window. He doesn’t like the smoke.”
“He’s a dog.”
“He still has to breathe, and frankly, so do I.”
Bea lowered the window and he stopped and settled down. He groaned and Brynn smiled. She had finally found a companion.
Bea leaned back again and fell asleep, lit cigarette in hand. Brynn took it from her and tossed it out the window. She drove in peace for another hour and pulled off into the hills. The car bounced on the dirt roads, but she didn’t slow. Gunner stood and she lowered the window for him. He hung his head and tongue out, enjoying the fresh air. Bea continued to snore, and Brynn wondered just what kind of tolerance she had for those pills. She checked her mouth for breathing and was satisfied for the moment.
Another half an hour on the dirt roads led her to the turnoff she needed. The car struggled but made it, and after another twenty minutes, Brynn was driving through overgrown brush off from the trail, until she stopped in front of the old cabin.
She gave Bea another shove, and she grumbled but didn’t wake. Brynn left her, opening the door for the dog, who happily ran around. Brynn rounded the cabin, checking windows and what she could see of the roof. It hadn’t been cared for in years, but it was still standing. She found a side window broken and pushed it open. A dank, dark smell rushed out at her.
“Damn.”
She crawled inside and fell to the dusty floor. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but when they did, she found the front door, lifted the heavy slab of wood that served as a lock, and opened it. Light spilled in, and she could see the dust swirling all around her. She coughed and looked at the small living room, tiny kitchen, and single bedroom. Everything was dust coated and ancient.
Childhood memories flooded her, and she couldn’t help but warm inside.
Gunner entered and sat, looking up at her.
“We got a lot of work to do, boy,” she said, glancing out at the car where Bea remained asleep. By the look of her motionless arm and foot hanging out the window, Brynn knew it was less sleep and more passed out. She sighed and patted the dog on the head.
“Come on, let’s go carry her inside.”
Chapter Four
“Vander. Vander.”
Someone was whispering and touching her softly. Kat opened her eyes, blinked heavily, and focused beyond her feet. Bright blooms of flowers saturated the room, and for a moment, she wondered what otherworldly place she was in. Oz perhaps?
“Hey,” a voice came from her left. It was Murphy. He smiled, and she did her best to return it.
She closed her eyes and tried to recall where she was and why. The shooting rushed back, and she opened her eyes, panicked.
“Damien?” She gripped Murph’s hand.
He squeezed. “He’s recovering. It was touch-and-go for a while, but he’s pulling through.” He nearly whispered the last part, and she knew he wasn’t telling her everything.
“Murph, what is it? What’s wrong?”
He breathed deeply and released her hand. “Nothing. He’s alive. You need to recover too.”
She stared him down with her best “don’t fuck with me” look, which usually left perps quivering in their boots. It usually worked on Murph too. But he was avoiding eye contact and rubbing his palms on his jeans. His firearm was on his hip, and the light blue polo he was wearing had darkened pools of sweat under his arms.
“It’s not hot in here,” she said.
He looked at her and took the bait. “No, it’s actually very comfortable.”
“Then why are you sweating like a rookie on his first day?”
Murph rose, crossed to the flowers, and looked at the notes. “You sure have a lot of people pulling for you. Praying for you. Damn near the whole county.”
“Murph.”
“And the food. Lord have mercy, the food. Margie and I have most of it, and a lot of the guys come by to check on you and to eat. I think I’ve gained ten pounds in the last few days alone.” He touched his belly and smiled at her, but this time she didn’t return it.
“Murph, what the hell is going on?”
“Doc says you’re about ready to go. So you can join me and get a little fat as you recover. Margie says you need it. Says you’re looking a little peaked. And I have to agree. You need to eat, bulk back up. All that muscle needs fuel, and with you losing all that blood and not eating the hospital food—”
“That’s it,” Kat said, throwing back the covers and slinging her legs over the bed. “I’m getting out of here.” She stood, winced at the pain, and remembered her shoulder. Her arm sat snug in a sling. She snapped at Murph, who was standing there, shell-shocked. “Hand me some clothes, will ya?”
He glanced around with a panicked look on his boyish face. Finally, he found a cabinet and retrieved a pile of folded clothes. He brought them to her and hitched his thumb.
“Margie brought them for you. Some of my sweat pants and old T-shirts.” When she didn’t respond he said, “I’m just going to go get a nurse or someone. I don’t think they’re ready for you to leave yet.”
“You won’t do any such thing.” She glared at him and he dropped his hand and swallowed. “You say a
nything to anybody and I’ll tell Margie about that hooker you have a thing for.”
His face went pale. “I don’t have a thing for her.”
“Please,” Kat said as she carefully pulled on a pair of sweatpants. “You blush redder than a thirteen-year-old boy caught with a porno mag when she talks to you.”
“I do not.”
Kat grinned. “Yeah, bud, you do. And we all know it.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re all a bunch of dicks.”
She laughed. “Maybe. But we’ve got your number, Murph.” Murph was a softie and everyone knew it. He was often the brunt of a joke, but it was because they loved him and looked after him. And there was no one better at talking to vics than Murph. And smart…holy shit was he smart. She wouldn’t trade anyone for him, not in a million years.
She motioned for him to come closer. “Help me out of this sling and this gown.”
He took a step and hesitated. “I really think a nurse—”
“Murph, get your ass over here and help me. Besides, I’m not Diamond, so seeing my breasts should do nothing for you.”
“Dick. You’re a dick, Vander.”
“I know. Now help me.” She turned so he could untie the gown and then turned again so he could help her out of the sling. When she was free, she tugged the gown forward and off and he blushed despite himself and looked away.
“Margie said a woman called while you were asleep. Said she was your sister.”
“My sister?”
“Yeah, Margie said you didn’t have one, and she just said she needed to make sure you were okay and hung up.”
“Williams,” Kat whispered, fighting a smile.
“Hmm?”
“Nothing. Help me put that T-shirt on?”
He nodded and helped her into it, avoiding her eyes and her bare breasts.
“Any idea who would claim to be your sister?”
She sighed. “Who knows? I’ll check into it though.”
“Probably just a reporter,” he said.
She continued to dress. “Thanks. Now help me get the sling back on.”