Turn to Stone by Brian Freeman Read Free Book Online Page B

didn’t,” Anna told him, “but Percy rarely talked about work. I know Hope and Greg, of course. Everybody does.”
    “I met Hope today,” Stride said.
    A faint smile crossed Anna’s face. “Enjoy the experience, did you?”
    “Not much.”
    “No, Hope is hard-boiled. They both are. She’s smart, I’ll give her that, but some people will bank in Green Bay just so they don’t have to deal with her. Greg can be just as difficult. Your uncle probably knows him. Greg was a teacher and coach at the middle school for a long time, but I think the school board got tired of his temper and encouraged him to move on. He became a realtor, and he’s done very well with commercial properties. He and Hope make a lot of money, but their battles are legendary in town. Although I have to say, it seemed to me that Greg had softened a bit lately. His dad died last fall, and that kind of thing can make you reassess how you live your life.”
    Stride nodded. He spotted a teenage girl in the doorway of the living room with a one-year-old baby in her arms. The baby’s face mimicked Tom Bruin’s plump red cheeks and bright eyes, like a reminder of her father. Anna bloomed with happiness, seeing her child, and the bond of mother and daughter made Stride conscious of what he’d missed by never becoming a parent.
    “Well, Mya and I have some errands to run in town,” Anna told him.
    “Yes, of course. I appreciate your time.”
    “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help. I’d like to know what happened to Percy, too, as much as Kelli does.”
    “I’m afraid these things rarely have easy answers,” Stride said.
    “I suppose you’re right.”
    They shook hands. Her grip was limp. He left the house and made his way down the icy driveway to his truck, which was parked facing the river. The road ended at a boat launch. Slushy water slapped at the asphalt, but the milky blanket of ice began again just offshore. He unlocked the door and was about to climb inside when he smelled cigarette smoke behind him.
    When he looked up the road, he saw the same teenage boy who had been watching the activity at the graveyard the previous night.
    The boy sat astride a red moped in the middle of the country intersection. A hand-rolled cigarette drooped from his lips. His black hair was long and greasy. He wasn’t tall, and he had to stretch his legs to graze the ground with the toes of his sneakers. In the daylight, he looked younger, because he was skinny and the sleeves of his jean jacket hung almost to the ends of his fingers. Stride dropped his keys in his pocket and walked up the road toward the boy. Getting closer, he saw that the teenager had pale blue eyes, which were trained on him with curiosity and a hint of fear, like someone outside the lion’s cage at the zoo. The boy’s face wasn’t sullen or mean; he didn’t have the typical teenage arrogance. He looked smart, but he looked like a loner. Those were qualities Stride recognized from his own teenage years.
    The moped engine sputtered to life. The boy swung the handlebars and headed down Wolf River Road. His long hair flew into tangles. Rocks and spray spattered the red metal frame. Stride watched him go.
    “He’s cute, isn’t he?”
    Stride glanced at the driveway, where Anna Bruin’s teenage babysitter stood at the curb. He figured she was about the same age as the boy on the bike. She wore a cream-colored dress that fell to her knees and neon yellow sneakers. Her unzipped down coat had a fur hood. She had scraggly brown hair with a headband and bow and wore yellow glasses that matched her shoes. A knit purse, heavy with sequins, swung from her fingers. She was tall and skinny.
    “You know him?” Stride asked.
    “Oh, sure, that’s Mike Black.”
    It took Stride a moment, and then he made the connection. Black . That was the name on the grave that had been vandalized. The grave only steps away from where Percy shot himself. He didn’t like coincidences.
    “Anna called you