Dead Renegade by Victoria Houston Read Free Book Online Page A

Loon Lake? Wouldn’t you be better off in Wausau or Green Bay? More jobs for electricians ‘round there, I hear.” He kept his voice small in the event he was making a mistake just by opening his mouth.
    Bobby settled his weird eyes on Kenny, tipped his beer can up for a swig, wiped his mouth, and said in the same spidery voice he’d had as a kid: “Maybe you’re right, Kenny. Yep, no doubt you are right. Sonofabitch.” Bobby sat with his legs akimbo, the left ankle resting on the right knee, right arm thrown across the back of the sofa. “But, man, there is no room in the inn.”
    “Whaddya mean?” Kenny’s question caused Ron to raise a finger in caution and nod towards their mother. Maybe they shouldn’t discuss this?
    “I mean they got me listed as a sexual predator and no one will rent to me. That’s what the hell I mean. Except Ma, right Ma?”
    Edna turned calm, sad eyes his way and nodded. She had a solemn grace to her that always surprised Kenny. How had such a quiet woman with her gentle ways given birth to these rough men? Men capable of brutish behavior and foul language—though rarely the latter in Edna’s house and even then only Bobby got away with it.
    He chalked it up to the old man. He had seen that guy once and made sure to stay out of his way. Even as a little kid, Kenny knew mean when he saw it.
    “Bobby,” Edna took her eyes off the television screen to gaze at her son, “I want you here. You stay as long as you want. Maybe you’ll help me fix the house up a little? Ron never has time, all the logging he’s been doing.” Her voice was soft, pleading but proud.
    “I will, Ma, ‘till I make some dough anyway.”
    Edna studied her oldest son. “Why don’t you just plan to make this your home? Keep out of trouble. You need a rest, Bobby. Ron, you tell him.”
    “Mom loves you best, man,” said Ron with a hoot and a swallow of his beer. “You stay here, I’ll bet she leaves you the house.”
    A certain edge in Ron’s voice prompted his mother to shoot him a warning look. Then she reached over to pat Bobby’s hand, “I want you here. I want you safe .” The emotion in her voice made it clear to Kenny: Edna did not believe Bobby was guilty of anything.
    The elderly woman pushed herself up from the rocker and, one slippered foot after the other, shuffled towards the kitchen. “Excuse me, boys, I need to roll out those cinnamon buns I got rising.”
    Ron winked at Bobby: “Wha’d I tell you? She’s got dementia. There’s no damn rolls in the kitchen. I don’t let her near the stove.”
    Once she was out of earshot, Bobby set both feet to the floor and leaned forward, shoulders hunched as he braced his elbows on his knees, to whisper to Kenny and Ron. “Gotta tell you something disappoints the hell out of me. Stopped by to give my regards to ol’ Rita—Kenny, you remember Rita? She was my ol’ lady who finked on me.
    “Turns out she passed away last year. What the hell? Diabetes, high blood pressure, I don’t know. Guess she had a stroke. Nobody told me, goddammit. And here I been plannin’ a present for that lady for eight goddamn years. Wanted to thank her for all she done for me, y’know.”
    “Yeah, right. Good thing she passed away,” Ron said with a chuckle. “Likely you wouldn’t be here today. They’d find her all beat up and have you back in the slammer.”
    “Yeah, but, man, it would be worth it. It would be so goddamn worth it.” Bobby slammed his right fist on the sofa cushion.
    Kenny felt a chill despite the hot room. He did not want to hear this. All he ever knew was that Rita was the woman who had refused to let Bobby stay at her place after his escape from a minimum security prison outside Milwaukee. Of course, if she hadn’t called the cops on him, she would have gone to jail herself. But what Kenny didn’t know and didn’t want to know was the rest of the story.

    He could recall only that there had been a child, Rita’s child by another