Heroes of Falledge Book One: Black Hellebore (12 page)

Whoops. He better watch himself. He didn't want anyone to question him and his strength, and he wanted to keep this job.

He kept his head low and worked hard. It was actually harder to work at the others' pace than to use his super strength. He relished the manual labor, though. Most of his jobs over the years had been this kind of work. Out in the sun, doing the work no one else wanted to do. The burn in his muscles, the physical pain -- it took his mind from his inner anguish. At least for a little while.

Nicholas worked through lunch and continued until it was quitting time. He talked to no one, although a few of his coworkers approached him, choosing instead to lose himself in his work. Some of the other men he recognized from a lifetime ago. His boss grunted goodbye to him, but Nicholas noticed the suspicion in his eyes. He'd have to be more careful to blend in tomorrow.

"Wait. Ya the guy Julianna called me 'bout, right?"

Nicholas halted. He had been walking toward the sidewalk, ready to head to Ginny's. "Yeah."

"She said you're a hard worker. She's right. Keep it up."

Nicholas nodded.

"If ya be meaning to try and get wit' her, ya ain't gonna be able to, and if ya actually do manage ta, I'd be watching ya. She's a mighty fine gal, and we don't want no one to mess with her, ya understand me?"

Ah, so that was why his boss, whatever his name was, had been eyeing him funny. "No, it's nothing like that."

"Better not be. She's too good for you. She's turned Falledge around. Will be the next sheriff once the old man finally retires."

Nicholas raised his eyebrows. "Turned it around?"

"Yeah. Used to be a lot of petty crime. Not too much anymore. Although it'll be interesting to see how the little lady handles the mob. Seems they've been coming 'roun' lately. She can handle it though, I'm sure."

"I'm sure," Nicholas repeated. "See you tomorrow." He nodded and walked to Ginny's.

Seemed Falledge hadn't always been the happy, peaceful place he remembered. Must have changed over the years, just as he had, just as Julianna had. She was a heck of lady, he had to admit.

He wasn't surprised when he saw her on Ginny's front porch. "Checking up on me? Don't worry, I worked hard today. I won't drag your name through the mud."

"Nicholas, I had to. All construction workers have to. Harry's done it ever since a guy tried to wreck his operation a few years ago."

"Do what?" He climbed the steps to stand beside her.

"Run a background check on you."

His heart skipped a beat. It did that a lot lately -- maybe a side effect of the black hellebore. "Well, you wanted to know about my past."

"A criminal record isn't all a person is."

"Burglary, breaking and entering, trespassing, loitering..."

"Nothing violent," she pointed out.

He winced. His one violent crime never resulted in charges. No one knew about it but him.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm not judging you. We all have secrets. We all do things we regret. We just need to leave the past behind us and learn from our mistakes."

Nicholas nodded and grinned. "Thanks for the lecture. You should be a preacher."

She sighed, but the corner of her lip twitched upward. "I'm being serious, Nick. Don't crack jokes."

He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'm fine."

"Are you?" She gazed at him, as if trying to read his soul.

"I have a job, a place to live--" His stomach grumbled.

"Go, eat."

A new line creased her forehead, faint, but visible. "What's going on? A lead on that guy? I know you can't give me details..."

Julianna shook her head. "No. Well, actually, it could be related, I don't know. There was a..." She leaned in close, and he could smell lavender. Her perfume. He sniffed. Berries. Her shampoo. "A murder last night," she whispered.

"A murder? Here?" He couldn't believe it.

"Shhh, yes. Keep it under wraps. We don't want the media to learn about it."

"Who was killed?"

She bit her lip.

"If you won't tell me, I'll just call the morgue and find out." He had no idea if he could learn that way, but it worked.

She rubbed her forehead wearily. "Fine. His name was David Markson. Went by Davey Boy."

Something clicked into place as he recalled an incorrect conclusion she'd leapt to earlier. "Sounds like a mob name. Julianna, is there a mob here in Falledge?"

"On the fringe. We've been trying to keep them out of here, but they've been pushy lately. They're stationed in the next town over--"

"By the laboratory."

"Yeah. Nick, I don't want to worry about this, okay? It's my business and--"

"And I don't want you involved in this. The mob's dangerous."

"You think I don't know that? That I can't handle myself?" She jammed her finger into his chest. "I can take care of myself, and my town. I don't need you to be an overprotective brother. Let me do my job, and you concentrate on keeping yours." She whirled around, stomped down the stairs, and drove off in her Mazda.

He swallowed past a lump in his throat. Her scent lingered, and he breathed it in. He was worried about her. He was also worried about something else. He didn't think of her as a sister. Or as a friend. Maybe something more.

He hadn't thought of anyone that way but Justina. He didn't know what was scarier -- that he was feeling again after not being able to for so long, or that his feelings centered on Justina's twin.

*****

Just before darkness descended, Nicholas donned his trench coat and adjusted his mask. With the cash his boss paid him for the day's work, he had bought a few flowers at the store. He carefully tucked a black hellebore flower into his black shirt pocket.

He strolled the streets, stopping once he stood in front of an old, rundown building. The apartment Davey Boy lived in. Nicholas grinned. Maybe he should've finished school and become a detective. Although looking up David Markson in the phone book -- not all that impressive.

He almost opened the front door before he thought better of it and darted around to the back. Shadows covered him and cast the building in darkness. Two forms huddled close together, talking in low tones. Although they whispered, Nicholas heard every word.

"What was the message?" A deep voice from the taller figure.

"That Big Don and his boys should watch out. Er, watch themselves. That's what he said after bashing Davey Boy's face in." A female voice, whiny, on the verge of panic.

Ah, so they were talking about the murder. Nicholas moved an inch to ensure he remained hidden.

"Think it was someone from Galveston?"

Galveston? Nicholas wasn't sure where that was, but if he had to guess, maybe a rival mob was stationed there.

"N-no. I don't know. How should I know?" Some of the girl's fright turned into belligerence.

"What did he look like?"

"He had on a big hat. Couldn't see much of his face, but he didn't have a nose."

"What do you mean no nose?"

"He had no nose. There was a hole there."

"Right." A snort. "Listen, lady, Big Don--"

"You have to pass on the message! I'm afraid he'll come back and kill me if you don't!" She grabbed the guy and held onto him.

He shrugged her off. "Big Don has too much to worry about to concern himself with a frightened girl attacked by a monster."

"But Davey Boy was murdered! Big Don has to do something about it."

"Big Don takes orders from no one. If he wants to look into it, he will. If he doesn't, he won't. End of story."

"But--"

Nicholas held his breath and tried to keep out of sight as the guy stomped down the alley toward him and headed toward the sidewalk. The girl crossed her arms and entered the apartment from the back entrance. Hesitating only a moment, Nicholas decided to follow the mobster. His target climbed into a black Chrysler 300. Nicholas jogged along at a fast pace to keep the car in sight. As he passed by Ginny's house, he heard a scream.

Abandoning his plan, he scampered into the house. He turned on the living room lights and bounded up the stairs. "What's wro--"

Ginny sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Something wrong?" she asked in the drowsy tone of someone who'd just woken up. "Ah!" She reached toward the shotgun leaning against the wall beside her bed.

"Ginny, it's just me!" Crap, he was still wearing his mask. He yanked it off.

"Nick, is that you?" She peered at him.

"Yes. I thought I heard... never mind. Go back to sleep."

"Everything all right?"

"Yes." He shut the door and leaned against it. The bed creaked as she lay back down and continued to groan.
Probably tossing and turning.
Soon, she was muttering in her restless sleep and screamed again. Nightmares. Poor Ginny.

What was he doing? Running around town, lurking in shadows, trying to act the hero. He wasn't a hero. Nothing he could do could ever atone for his sins, his crimes. He had failed Justina. Nothing would ever change that.

Chapter Twenty-One

He narrowed his eyes at the weeping girl entering the apartment. Foolish Truckin' Tommy. If he dared not deliver his message to Big Don...

Well, he'd just have to make an example of Truckin' Tommy, too, then.

First, he had to deal with a little girl. Little failure was more like it.

He jumped and scaled the building. Despite the late hour, he saw everything clearer than ever before. The window hadn't been replaced yet, only a piece of plastic covered it. Ha, like that would stop him. He yanked it off and watched it drift in the lazy breeze, billowing like a cape until it landed in the middle of the road. Tires squealed, then a crash sounded. Whoops.

He snickered.

The door opened and slammed shut again.

He peered inside. She hadn't entered. Must've seen that the window was exposed. Or caught a glimpse of him. Grinning, he bound into the bedroom. Threw open the hallway door, breaking it off the hinges.

He caught a glimpse of her hair as she disappeared into the stairwell. Two giant leaps, and he reached the doorway of the steps. One more, and he landed in front of her. Her shriek died when he grabbed her by the throat.

"Shut up," he said. He didn't want anyone else to join their party. Not that that would be the end of the world. He didn't care how much blood he shed, tonight or any night.

She struggled to nod her agreement, her eyes bulging.

He loosened his grip so he barely touched her, yet her feet still hovered a good foot above the ground. "Did you deliver my message?"

"Y-yes," she croaked, her voice garbled and unrecognizable.

He glanced up, then down. No one else was around. No one had bothered to check on all the noises. Come to think of it, no one had investigated when Davey Boy had fired shots. Lightmeadow, where Lewis had lived, was a bad area. Maybe this apartment was, too.

"Did you deliver it personally?"

Her eyes bulged even more, her mouth opening and closing several times before she managed to say, "I can't--"

"What do you mean you can't?" He applied more pressure. Too much. Her neck snapped.

Worthless twig. Oh well. She didn't deserve to live anyhow. Anyone who voluntarily spent time with Davey Boy was scum by association.

He carelessly dropped her body. It thudded on to the stairs, one of her arms tucked beneath her body, terror still glistening in her eyes.

He stalked out of the building. The stench of fear and death lingered around him like a cloak as he disappeared into the shadows.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Nicholas's life fell into a normal routine. He worked at the construction site, ate dinner with Ginny and sometimes with Julianna, but was careful to never be alone with the blond. Instead of sleeping, he wandered the streets, trying to learn more about the murders.

When he read about the second one, his first thought didn't focus on the increased danger in Falledge. Instead, he wondered why he had to read about it, why Julianna hadn't told him. Obviously, she didn't completely trust him. Despite his trying to be a good guy, he didn't seem to measure up in her eyes.

Why he craved her approval so badly he tried not to think about. He knew Ginny invited Julianna over, yet he didn't ask her to stop. As much as he wanted to see her, he also tried to avoid her.

He never slept. He wanted to, needed to see Justina again, but felt he betrayed her, disgraced her memory, by kissing her twin.

Despite this, he thought of the kiss often, and it wasn't always with a heavy heart.

He patrolled the streets. He couldn't help himself. Running from his dreams, the same dreams he had once lived for every night. Running from his past, his crimes, his failures. Trying to be a better person, a hero, and failing at that, too.

Late one night, the sound of something metal rattling on the ground caught his attention. Down an alley, he located the source: a man sorting through the trash.

The stench of days-old garbage seared his nostrils and made his stomach churn. "Can I help you with something?"

The man jerked his head up. His pale blue eyes widened in alarm, and he darted away, down the alley to another street.

Was it Looney Louie? Falledge's only homeless man. Time hadn't been kind to him in the years Nicholas had been away.

He sniffed and followed Looney Louie's scent: a combination of body odor, bad breath, and rancid meat. The guy wore a tattered old shirt, dark pants, and a threadbare coat. They looked like the same clothes he'd worn the last time Nicholas saw him.

Looney Louie glanced around then scooted toward the grocery store, his head down, bobbing forward and back, like a pigeon.

Nicholas arrived by his side before he reached the entrance. "Whatcha in the mood for?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

Looney Louie furrowed his brow. "Leave me alone!"

"What do you want?" Nicholas asked, not raising his voice.

The homeless man gaped at him then grinned his toothless smile. "Anything."

Nicholas nodded toward the parking lot before entering the store and racing up and down every aisle. He joined the Loon in the shadows in the back of the lot a few seconds later.