Michael gave a shiver in the ninety-degree heat, and goose bumps covered his arms.

From what he’d gathered from the terse statements by OSP Detective Mason Callahan, the bunker was a small space that housed one ancient, disgusting single mattress, rusting food cans, cuffs, chains, buckets, and rope. A high school–aged cadet had tripped over the metal entrance during a search line. Michael thought the opening looked like a hatch to a submarine. Round, small, metal, and it opened up like a tuna fish can.

The police had followed a barely discernible trail from the bus. Almost as faint as a deer path. When the cadaver dog hit on a spot, they initiated a search line and found the bunker. The hit from the cadaver dog revealed their second discovery under the dirt: a deep pit.

So far, the pit had revealed two adult male and two adult female skeletons in a single hole. No children yet. Forensic specialists continued the dig under the eagle eye of Victoria Peres, looking for more remains. Two areas of intense work. One group at the bunker and one group at the growing body pit.

Where was Daniel?

Michael had stood in the same spot behind the yellow tape for an hour, gaze locked on the crew with Vicky. Four times she’d glanced his way and shaken her head. He pressed his lips together. How many more bodies were below the dirt?

“It’s got to be related.”

Michael turned to see Detective Lusco standing at his side, his gaze also on the group of diggers. The detective moved silently for such a big guy. Or else Michael was severely distracted. Michael figured it was a combination of both.

“Is there any question?” Michael asked.

Lusco shrugged. “Not making any assumptions. Until we find a direct link to that other site, this is a separate investigation. So far there’s just the proximity to tie the two together.”

Michael nodded. Lusco plainly believed it was part of the first investigation, but he wasn’t about to state it out loud until there was some concrete proof. Anyone with half a brain knew it was related. “Where the hell did these adult remains come from?”

Lusco shook his head. “Beats the shit out of me. Fucking crazy. We were expecting to find kids.”

Michael’s stomach tightened, and he said nothing.

“We’ll find out what went on here,” Lusco stated. “When we find the son-of-a-bitch that did this—”

“He might be dead,” Michael broke in. “It’s been twenty years. Or he might be locked up for something else.”

Lusco snorted. “If we find out he’s already locked up, our job will be easy. Just spread the word that he’s a child killer and that’ll be the end of him. They aren’t partial to child abusers and killers inside. Cheap trial. Save the taxpayers a little money.”

Or give me two minutes with him.

A small hand slipped into Michael’s. He didn’t jump. He instantly knew her touch. He pulled Lacey to him and gave her a tight hug. She fiercely hugged him back, nearly cutting off his air.

“I’m sorry, Michael,” she whispered to his shirt.

He gave her a final squeeze and reluctantly let go.

“Hey, Dr. Campbell. Thought we’d see you today.” Lusco smiled sadly. Lacey gave the big cop a quick hug. Michael waited for the unreasonable jealousy that always came when he watched a man touch Lacey. It didn’t come.

What the fuck?

Michael zoned out as she asked Lusco about his kids. Was he finally accepting that Lacey belonged to someone else? His gaze slid from her blonde ponytail to toned, tanned legs. Huh. Maybe his heart was finally catching up with what he knew in his head. He watched Lacey step into her Tyvek suit while talking of her wedding flower decisions with the detective. Ray Lusco was the only cop Michael knew who could discuss dressy heels, baby colic, and flower arrangements with women. It’d surprised the hell out of Michael at one point, but now he was used to it.

Voices rose at the hatch, yanking everyone’s attention. Lacey and Ray went quiet and watched Detective Callahan emerge from the small opening. The salt-and-pepper-haired detective scanned the scattered groups until his gaze landed on Lusco. He pulled the booties off his cowboy boots, dropped them in an evidence bag, and headed in their direction, his face expressionless.

Not good news.

Michael felt Lacey’s hand slip into his again as they waited for the detective to come closer.

“What is it?” Michael spoke first. His gut churned woozily around the Big Mac he’d had for lunch.

Callahan’s gaze went to his partner and exchanged silent words.

“Mason?” Lacey gripped Michael’s hand tighter. “Do you need me down there?”

The detective shook his head. “No remains in there.”

Michael’s stomach instantly calmed. Daniel wasn’t in that bunker. He exhaled and heard Lacey do the same.

His gaze darted to the pit, and his stomach clenched again. If not in the bunker, then Daniel was probably in that pit. Thrown away like garbage. Faintly he heard Lacey give a small gasp and realized he was hurting her hand. He let go. She didn’t.

“What is it, Mason?” Lusco spoke low and stepped in to close their small circle.

Callahan’s steady brown gaze went to Michael’s. Here it comes.

“We’ve found a bunch of kid backpacks.”

Michael couldn’t breathe.

“Daniel’s name is on one,” Callahan said quietly.

“Navy blue, Ninja Turtles,” Michael automatically said, the pack’s image clearly in his mind. Along with Daniel’s jacket with the Portland Trail Blazers’ logo, blue jeans, and red Nikes. What was your brother wearing when you last saw him? How many times had he answered that question?