“What did you do with the bones?”

“They’re safe,” Leo answered with confidence.

The old man closed his eyes. Had this man learned nothing from him? “Where are the bones?”

A pause. “At the house.”

“Where your boy can find them?”

Another pause. “He won’t find them.”

Jesus Christ. “Boys can find anything. Especially deliberately hidden things. Remove them at once. I want them here.”

Leo cleared his throat. “Yes, sir.”

That was better. A little respect. Perhaps the fault did lie with himself. Had he been too lax on his flock? Was he growing too soft in his old age?

“Where is Jason now?”

“Ummm. I’m not sure. He’s not answering his phone. I’ve told him to call me at once.”

“He’s not obeying well, is he? I want to see him. Tomorrow. First thing in the morning.”

“Ahh. Okay. I’ll try to find him.”

The old man’s blood pressure rose. “Find him now! And get those bones over here tonight. What is wrong with you? I’ve never seen you so incompetent before. Can’t you find his location with his phone?”

“I’ve tried. He must have powered down his phone. I’ll be able to tell the minute he turns it back on.”

“So he’s avoiding you. He knows how to keep you off his back.” The old man’s mind raced. Jason was becoming a big problem. The stunt he’d pulled last week had brought national attention to the deaths of long ago. What was the boy up to? He’d never been so defiant before.

“I’ll find him,” Leo said assuredly.

Liar. The old man had no confidence in his son. Within twenty-four hours, he’d managed to destroy any trust and respect he’d built in the old man’s eyes. This was an important time for them. He needed to rely on people who’d proved themselves to be trustworthy, and this man was rapidly sliding down the ladder.

“Get those bones over here now,” he ordered.

“On my way, Father.”

The old man broke the connection and turned his attention back to the television. Memorial attendees were being interviewed. Their stories were jumbled and confused and offered no insight into the terror that’d happened inside the building. One gun, two guns, three guns. Figure it out, people! How could the eyewitness accounts be so different? He answered his own question; no doubt these were not eyewitnesses, but people who simply wanted their faces on TV. They may have been present, but they didn’t see anything.

What was he going to do with Leo? And the boy? His heart hurt at the thought of punishing them. But they’d broken the rules. The boy had broken a direct order. And the father had failed by not keeping the boy in control.

He’d meted out punishment several times. His other son, the oldest boy, had been an issue for many years. He’d demonstrated as a child that his mind didn’t work correctly. The old man had read that improper upbringing during a boy’s formative years could add to adult issues. But these were brothers. How could one turn out normal and the other so malicious? Was the lack of a mother that important?

He shuddered at the memory of his last encounter with the evil brother. He’d defied him, hoarding a precious necklace that had belonged to his dead mother. The boy had been eighteen at the time, and had shown a history of mental instability. The elders had urged him to do something to control the boy. He’d given him chance after chance, many more than any human deserved. When he’d been ordered to return the necklace to the family coffers, the young man had refused, clinging to the necklace and the memory of a mother he’d never known.

They’d faced each other down in the kitchen. For a long moment, he’d been slightly intimidated by the health and bulk of the youth standing up to his order to return the necklace, but he saw the hesitation in his eyes. Deep down he was afraid to defy his father.

“Give me the necklace,” he’d commanded.

“It is mine. It is all that is left of her. I have a right to it, Father,” he’d answered through clenched teeth. The hesitation in his gaze wavered, morphing into anger.

“I hold all the keepsakes. No one person can have them.”

“You are one person. Do you hear how you contradict yourself? Your rules are nothing but contradictions. They make no sense.”

“Give it to me now.”

The young man lunged, thrusting the necklace into the garbage disposal and hitting the button above the countertop. The gnashing sounds of metal shredding shrieked through the kitchen.

“No!” he shouted, lunging at the sink.

His son pushed him away. “If I can’t have it, no one can.”

The old man had frozen, staring into the malevolent eyes. He has to be put down. We can’t have one like him in our midst. “You shoved me,” he shouted over the din. It was the least of the man’s offenses but the most immediate.

The doubt and hesitation flickered in the young man’s eyes again. “I’m sorry, Father.”

The old man had shaken his head. It was too late; the actions with the necklace had sealed his fate. They all had to follow the rules.

He let out a long sigh, willing the memory of that other man to fade, tapping his fingers on the arm of his easy chair.

He had to take action again. He couldn’t lose face in the eyes of the few followers he had left. He needed to assert that he was still in control. He might be old, but he hadn’t lost his power. His bones ached on a daily basis, but with years came wisdom, right? In that case, no one was wiser than him.