“I need to go see. I have to know.” She ran a hand through her hair. She’d never wanted anything so badly in her life. The “not knowing” made her want to vomit.

“Okay, let’s go take a look at the address.” He took her hand and helped her out of the chair.

She knew he hadn’t missed the icy sweat on her palms.

“What do you mean, you don’t know where Jason is?” The old man stared at Leo. His worthless excuse for a son was sniveling, terrified of him.

“I’ve checked with all his friends. I went to their homes and looked. I don’t know where he slept last night.” He looked around the room, avoiding his father’s gaze.

The old man moved in his seat, wishing he could stand up easier. The pain in his legs was a constant companion. Drugstore painkillers no longer helped. And he would never visit a doctor. They asked too many questions and threw drugs at every problem. Medical nonsense. God gave him pain; why would he fight against God’s will? Suffering was part of life. Today’s society spent too much effort to avoid suffering. Pain was good for the soul.

He wouldn’t allow his son the pleasure of watching him struggle to stand, but he didn’t like the fact that his son was looking down at him. It created a subtle advantage. He preferred to have the higher ground during this type of discussion.

“And… and there’s one more thing,” his son whispered.

The old man looked up. That tone didn’t bode well, and his son looked like he wanted to melt into the carpet. Anger flared in his chest. “Well?” he barked. “What is it? What else has happened?”

His son twisted his hands together, misery in his expression. “The bones. When I went to get the skulls, they were gone.”

“The bones you stole?” he roared. A red haze narrowed his vision. He’d lost the skulls? “Jason took them?”

“I… I don’t know. I don’t know who else could have found them. No one else comes in our house, so it must have been him.” His son looked ready to cry. “I’m sorry, Father.”

The old man hated him. How had he fathered such a weakling? “The boy has the bones. There’s no question in my mind. We need to get them back and—” He broke off, a new idea pushing its way into his brain.

What if they told the police the boy had the bones? Let him take the blame for the break-in.

He sucked in a deep breath. Was it plausible? Would that work? Let the police hunt down the boy. Who would the police believe, a rebellious teenager or two adults? His mind spun with the possibilities. Would the skulls lead back to him? Or could they present it as a stupid teen prank?

His son studied him quizzically, but he stayed silent.

“Wait a minute,” the father mumbled. “I think I have an idea.”

The man nodded eagerly, his gaze hopeful.

The father looked out the window, mentally exploring every avenue this thought had opened. Jason had already been questioned by the police in the shooting yesterday. This would shine more light on what he’s done. But where would it lead?

Who knows what kinds of stories Jason would tell? Would anyone take them seriously? It didn’t matter. The risk was too high. All it took was one curious cop to take a closer look at the boy’s family.

“Damn it!”

His son’s eyes grew round, knowing his father never swore and didn’t allow swearing in his presence, a subject the grandfather and Jason had butted heads on before. There were other words for expressing anger. Foul language was a lazy man’s tool.

“I’d thought it might work,” he muttered. It would have solved two problems. The police could have located Jason and the bones for him. But the risk was unacceptable.

Who could he ask to bring Jason in? His son was worthless. There was no one he trusted. Not anymore.

He’d have to make the boy want to come to him.

Leo stepped out onto the front porch of his father’s house and blew out a breath. Steam hung in the cold air, making him crave a cigarette. The tall firs surrounding the home held his gaze. Should he tell his father the truth?

Pride rushed through him. Part of him loved fooling his father, but part of him craved his father’s acknowledgment of his brilliance. His father truly believed he was a spineless weakling. Someday he’d know the truth. Someday his father would be stunned at his son’s strength.

But when?

He’d learned not to show his strength from watching his older brother. His brother had been the strong one. One who stood up to their father. And he’d paid for it with his life. Back then Leo had sworn to let his father believe he was cowardly and pathetic.

Leo enjoyed the game. He wasn’t ready to surrender yet. He had the upper hand, and his father simply didn’t know, blinded by his anger over Jason.

Where was Jason?

His son had thrown a kink in his plans. Seeing the skulls missing had angered him. Why had Jason taken them? Had he simply wanted to show them off to his friends? Brag about the disgusting find in his father’s room?

Or did Jason suspect?

What was the boy up to?

Trinity stopped the car in front of a tiny house on the west side of Hillsboro and squinted through the rain at the house number. This was the place. What a dump. No wonder he didn’t want to stay here any longer. A piece of plywood over one window and the yard looked severely unloved. It needed serious time with a weed whacker and a lawn mower.

Should she go to the door? Honk? She glanced at her watch. She was only ten minutes late. He should still be here and hopefully watching for her. She saw a curtain move at one of the front windows. Someone had spotted her. Good. She didn’t want to dash through the sheets of water or leap over the giant puddle that blocked the walkway to the front door.