Read Online Velvet Rain - A Dark Thriller by David C. Cassidy - Free Book Online

right, started to act up, she decided to turn in.
    “You gotta see old Doc, darlin’.”
    “I’ve been. How many times? Lord knows he can’t do anything. Besides, it’s not as bad as it used to be.”
    “It’s worse. Stubborn woman.”
    “Not as stubborn as some, I’d say.” She looked like she was going to head inside, but instead she lingered.
    “Birthmarks,” Kain said, and she looked more than a little tongue-tied. “You looked like you wanted to ask.”
    “Nobody’s business,” Big Al said. “She’s too damn nosey for her own good, is all. Women.”
    “Allan Jefferson Hembruff!”
    “Cripes. You’ve been starin’ at him all night like … well, like he is a little ghost.”
    Her face went limp, an Oh my Lord kind of limp. She stammered a bit, and just when you thought she might say something rabid to Big Al, said goodnight to her guest, and then simply excused herself and went inside. The screen door clattered behind her.
    “Guess I’ll be joinin’ you on the sofa,” Big Al chuckled. “It’s pretty well molded to this old body anyhow.”
    The big farmer got up and stretched his legs. He checked the door and cocked an ear.
    “Sometimes she listens,” he whispered. “Damn near forty years with someone … you learn a few things.”
    He waited for it, and there it was; the slam of their bedroom door. He nodded impishly, and in that moment seemed neither sixty-five nor even fifty-five, but five. “Good. Good.” He moved quietly to the end of the veranda, knelt down, and set a tanned, leathery hand behind the barrel there. There was a wee clank-clunk sound, and a satisfied chuckle only old men and devils shared. The farmer returned to his chair with a mischievous grin, handing a cool one to his guest.
    “She thinks I hide ’em inside that old drum,” Big Al said. “I move my spots around.” He winked, then snapped the tab off the Schlitz, careful not to make much of a sound. He sipped. “Cripes, that tastes a whole lot better when the house cops aren’t watchin’.”
    Kain drew his open, equally careful so as not to give them away. They were breaking the “law” as it were, and he didn’t feel right about doing it behind Georgia’s back, but he had to admit, it was kind of fun. Like a couple of kids getting away with something. It made him feel young, at least in the moment.
    “I get asked all the time,” he said lightly. “I’m used to it. Jimmy asked earlier.”
    “Don’t mind him,” Big Al said. “I guess you figured I was lookin’, too, though. Can’t say I wasn’t …”
    “I know,” Kain said, raising a brow as he shrugged. “They’re like twins.”
    “They just don’t look like birthmarks, you know? Awww, cripes. Will you listen to me? I’m no better than my Georgia. Sorry.”
    “Don’t be. People are curious by nature.”
    “You mean nosey. ”
    “You say potato—”
    “—You say po tot o,” the farmer finished, and after a knowing pause they both chuckled like schoolboys who had just skipped out on the day’s history test, enjoying the air and the stars and their illicit Schlitz, neither of them knowing, neither of them dreaming, that in two short months, Big Al Hembruff would be dead.

~ 6
    Kain woke at dawn to the delicious scent of scrambled eggs, baked bread, and freshly brewed coffee. Bacon sizzled, teasing with its salty aroma. The rising globe in the window bathed the room in a lovely orange glow, and the morning air was heavy and unmoving, very thick, with a hint of wildflower. The day was new, and he felt the same.
    Or so he thought. Dressed only in his undershorts, he sat up on the sofa, stretched, and felt his muscles asking him why he had worked them so hard. He decided immediately he wouldn’t dare show the other hands he was aching; no way in hell he was going to give those pups the satisfaction. Still, the discomfort felt good, didn’t it? He’d found work. Good work. And now he’d found a grin.
    He got up to slip on his