Steal My Heart

Chapter 2

brIAN HAD fixed the front door and gate, along with a few of the other small items, before Hilliard returned, hurrying inside like he expected the house to be on fire.

“Everything okay?” Brian asked as he smoothly closed the front door.

Hilliard sighed. “Of course. I just have another load of things for the church sale.” He seemed to be trying to keep himself busy as Brian worked his way through the rest of the repair items on the list. It only took a couple of hours to finish, and then he began packing up his tools to leave.

“I’m going to get the new water heater and the supplies for the steps. I’d suggest an on-demand one. It will provide more water and be more energy efficient. The unit will also take up less space in the utility room.”

Hilliard seemed distracted but eventually nodded. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Brian paused. “Is something wrong? Are you unhappy with some of my work?”

“Of course not.” Hilliard smiled, but the warmth that had been there earlier had gone. “I’ll see you tomorrow, and thank you for everything.” Hilliard saw him to the door and closed it behind him.

Brian shook his head before making the run into Fort Bragg to get the supplies he needed, trying to put the weirdness out of his mind.

“How did it go?” his grandmother asked from her lift chair when he got home.

“Good, I guess. I got some repairs done and picked up the supplies for tomorrow,” he explained, thankful his credit card had been able to stretch to cover it. He hated asking Gran for money to get him through. She’d give it to him—he knew she would help—but he didn’t want to burden her with his problems.

“That’s good. We got a few calls today, and I put the messages on your desk. Helen Russell wants you to put up a fence for her.” She leaned forward. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. Everything was great, and then he was gone for a while. When he came back, he was different and kept watching me like…. Shit….”

“Brian,” Gran warned in the same tone she’d used when he was eight and said something bad.

“He went to the church.”

Gran nodded. “I know. I already heard all about it. Ruth called me. It seems Violet had her gums flapping. Ruth said she cut her off and shamed her for gossiping, but she thinks Violet got Hilliard wondering.”

Brian sat in one of the wingback chairs that had been in the same place in the living room for as long as he could remember. They were worn but warm and comfortable, like old friends. “What am I going to do? I suspect he’ll probably cancel the work, as jittery as he seemed, and find someone else.” At least he had the receipt for the supplies he’d bought and could return them, and he’d gotten some work.

Gran took his hands.

“Every time I think I’m about to get my feet under me and move on, something or someone decides that I’m not worth it, and I’m back in the crap hole again.” He had spent three years trying to put his past behind him, and yet it came back to bite him all the time. “I work hard, Gran, and I never cheat anyone.”

“I know, sweetheart,” she said gently. “You’ve turned my house in a showplace, and I tell everyone that you did the work.” Gran was the one person who had always been in his corner, believing him when no one else would.

“I know, but….” He could feel a good old-fashioned whine coming on, and he was not going to do that. There was nothing he could do to change what had happened. All he could do was try to move his life forward.

“You hold your head high and keep doing the work you do. Remember Helen….”

“She only hired me because the two of you are friends,” Brian told her.

Gran squeezed his hands with her lotion-soft ones. If he closed his eyes, he could feel the comfort from those arthritic fingers seeping into him like always. “But you did good work, and now she calls you for help. You won her over and gained her trust.” She released his hands and rested hers in her lap.

“But what do I do? I need the work, and I have all the supplies. What if he calls and cancels?” He hated worrying about shit all the time. He never used to do that, but now nervousness seemed to be his constant companion.

“Stop worrying. He hasn’t called. Take the dogs out for a walk and try to clear your head. They need their exercise, and you need to get some fresh air and new perspective.”

“Gran,” he protested.

She sat back in the chair. “Look, I’m old, not all-seeing. I don’t have all the answers. But take things as they come, and in the morning, go back and do your usual good job. That’s what he wants—what all your clients want, in the end: a good job at a fair price. Everything else is just talk.” That was his Gran, practical and down-to-earth. If she were younger, he swore she’d be out there helping him with the business. Gramps had run his own handyman business once he retired, doing jobs all over Mendocino County. As a teenager, Gramps had taken Brian out on jobs with him, and eventually he’d gone to work with him— until he passed away and everything in Brian’s life went to hell. He stopped himself, because nothing good would come from going down that rabbit hole again.

“Are you hungry?” He got up.

“Walk the dogs first, please. I’m going to nap a little before dinner.” She closed her eyes, and Brian got the leashes, sending Gigi and Poppy running around the room in excitement.

THE LITTLE hellions were surprisingly good for most of the walk, even prancing next to him, doing their best imitation of well-behaved dogs. Brian knew better and still had the scrapes to prove it. And as if to reinforce his opinion, as soon as they drew close to Hilliard’s place, the two went nuts, barking and running in circles, nearly getting Brian tied up in their leashes again.

He looked toward the front door, but it stayed closed. Brian had hoped that maybe he would find Hilliard out and about and he could check if maybe he was seeing things that weren’t there earlier. But the house was dark, and it looked like he wasn’t home. The dogs peered through the gate slats, jumping and barking as though they could get Hilliard to come out and play.

“Come on, guys. Let’s keep going,” he said and tugged them forward.

“Brian?” Hilliard said as he came around the side of the house in jeans and an old red muscle shirt. He pulled out his earbuds. The dogs raced back, jumping, their tails wagging a mile a minute. “I see it’s their walk time again.” He smiled and went over to the gate. As soon as he opened it, the dogs ran over to him. Hilliard squatted down, his jeans pulling tight around his thighs. “Hey, guys. Are you being good and doing your best not to trip Brian?” he asked, handing out pets and scratches, both dogs wanting their turn for attention.

“They were good until I got close to the house. Then they went nuts.” Brian couldn’t help smiling at how they seemed to love Hilliard. In all the time he’d been walking them, they’d never reacted to this house at all, not until Hilliard moved in. “How is everything?”

“It’s good. I got the trash hauled away and the donated items taken to the church. I feel like I can breathe in the house now. I was just working around the back, getting started on the yard and trying to figure out what constitutes a weed, but I gave up. Everything is so overgrown that I might start from scratch as far as the flowers go.”

“Not a bad idea. She didn’t have a lot in the yard, so you can pretty much do what you want without hurting anything.”

Hilliard stood, his expression growing serious, and the dogs sat next to Brian, which was unusual. Maybe they sensed that something had changed. “Look, I need to ask you something…. One of the ladies at church said something, and….” He seemed uncomfortable, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I know. Ruth told Gran that one of the ladies was spreading gossip about the robbery at Violet Trainer’s.” He might as well rip off the Band-Aid and get this over with.

“It’s really none of my business,” Hilliard said gently, but there was tension in his eyes.

“But she got you wondering.” Brian figured he should come clean.

Hilliard stood still and then nodded.

Brian came closer, and Hilliard opened the front door. Brian followed inside, the dogs happily coming along, jumping onto the sofa as if they owned the place.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

Brian shook his head. “I might as well get this done. See, I spent six months in jail. It was a one-to-two-year sentence, and I was released on parole after six months. Gran helped me get the business started, and I’ve been trying to rebuild my life since.”

“What happened?” Hilliard asked matter-of-factly. Brian noticed that he didn’t ask what he’d done. That was at least a hopeful sign that he wasn’t going to get tossed out on his ear. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He cleared his throat. “Back in Cleveland I was a lawyer, and I’m still deciding if I’m going to stay here or sell the house and return to Cleveland. If I stay, I’ll apply to join the California bar.”

“Okay,” Brian said and took a minute to get his thoughts together. “One of the homes in town was broken into two and a half years ago. They stole a number of pieces of jewelry, silver, and some other small things that were easily traceable.” His leg bounced on the floor. “I was with Gramps when it happened. He loved the coast, so he and I had been out driving and got home late.” His throat ached as he thought about that day. “I’m glad we went, because Gramps went to bed that night and didn’t wake up. It was heartbreaking for Gran and me, but he went happy, and the two of us had time with each other.” He had to keep it together. “Two days after the funeral, I was accused of breaking into that house. They had found my fingerprints inside and got a warrant to search my residence and my truck, where they found one of the missing items. From there, I was guilty, even though I had been out with Gramps the entire day. He wasn’t alive to testify, and they used that absence against me, turning the trip into me using my grandfather as a shield to steal. Gran testified, and they accused her of lying to cover for me. I never stole anything in my life. I was torn up about Gramps, and Gran was in pieces. She had lost her husband of nearly sixty years, and now I was accused of theft and eventually convicted.”

“So they never found who actually committed the burglary,” Hilliard supplied. “They looked at you, found what fit their narrative, and didn’t look any further.” He shook his head. “They had fingerprints and a stolen object in your vehicle, and downplayed any alibi that you had.”

“That’s pretty much it,” Brian said. “I was convicted, and that was that. The case was closed, and they went on to other things.” He was surprised that Hilliard seemed to believe him. No one else in town acted as if they did.

“If you didn’t do it, then someone else did,” Hilliard said. “And they got away with it. Do you have any idea who it was?”

Gigi jumped down and bounded into Hilliard’s lap, while Poppy climbed into his. Brian petted the dog, happy for the comfort.

Brian shook his head. “It’s a small town. I always thought that someone would open their mouth and say something they shouldn’t, but nothing has happened other than the fact that everyone thinks it was me.”

Hilliard sighed. “It must be hard making a living here with all that. Why didn’t you move to Fort Bragg, or even down the coast toward the city? You could have found a lot of work there and pretty much left your past behind.”

“I thought of that, but then I’d have to leave Gran. She can do some things but has arthritis really bad, so she is limited in what she can do for herself. I stay with her and look after her. She and Gramps were the only family I had left, and now it’s just her. I can’t leave her all alone, and I won’t put her in a home. That would kill her. All her friends are here, and the church is here. So I stayed, and I’m doing the best I can.” He found it hard to believe that Hilliard seemed to accept his story. So few people did.

“Well, it seems you have defenders. Ruth was definitely sticking up for you.”

Brian leaned forward. “But why do you believe me? Most people don’t.”

Hilliard smiled. “In part because I had already figured out some of what happened. I’m a lawyer, and part of what I do is dig up information. It wasn’t hard to find. The case seemed thin enough to me, especially given that the rest of the items have never turned up… just the one they found on you. Now why would you be dumb enough to leave something lying around to be found while being so good at hiding the rest that the police can’t locate it?” Hilliard watched him like a hawk. “It doesn’t make sense. Do you know if the police ever looked at your alibi, or did they simply discount it and go on?”

Brian shook his head. “I don’t know what they did. The prosecuting attorney just went after me and Gran like we were members of some crime syndicate. She cried all the time, and they made me start to think that I might have done it.” God, it had been so confusing. “In the end my attorney tried to get me a plea deal, but I was innocent and I wasn’t going to say I did it, so….”

“They found you guilty, your attorney put in minimal effort, and you did six months for it.”

Brian was speechless. “You actually believe me?”

Hilliard shrugged. “I have no reason not to believe you. It doesn’t make any sense for you to make up a story like that. If you had broken into the house, you could simply have said that you made a mistake and that you were working to turn your life around or something. People make mistakes—God knows I have—but frankly, the details of your story are easy enough to check, so why bother to lie in the first place?” He sat back, and Gigi settled on his lap, soaking up the attention.

“Exactly. I suppose records of the burglary are public, and it’s easy enough to verify the day Gramps died. As for the rest, I wish there had been a way for us to prove where we were. Gramps and I spent most of the day in the car. The coast around here is so rugged, and Gramps just wanted to drive and take in the scenery.” God, they must have driven over two hundred miles that day. He would have been able to stand up for Brian and say where they had been, but with him gone, all the prosecutor had done was harp on the fact that Brian’s alibi was a man who had passed away. “Anyway, I’m grateful.” It was like a weight lifted off his shoulders.

“What, did you think I would fire you?” Hilliard asked. “Look, you showed up on time and did good work. What more could I ask?”

“Well, thank you.” Brian felt better in some ways. “When I was first arrested, I told my story over and over and no one listened to me. Gran knew where I was that day, and she never doubted me.” It had gotten him through those horrible six months of fear and worry that he had usually been able to keep out of his mind during the day, but otherwise….

Hilliard set Gigi gently on the floor, and she hurried over. Brian clipped on the leash and led the dogs out the front door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Brian smiled and waved before doing his best to lead the dogs down the walk back toward Gran’s, already feeling lighter.

“You were gone a while,” Gran said from in front of the television once he went inside. He unleashed the dogs, and they bounded right to Gran, one settling next to her and the other on her lap.

“He was nice,” Brian explained.

Gran stilled. “You told him… everything?” She knew he never talked about it if he could help it. Those months were something he wanted to forget.

“I did, and he believed me. Hilliard is a lawyer, and he already knew part of the story. I think he looked me up on the internet. But he believed me.” Though why he felt so inordinately happy puzzled him.

“He’s a lawyer?” Gran asked. “Do you think if he believes you that he might think of a way to prove you didn’t steal anything in the first place?”

Brian shrugged. That was almost too much to hope for.