For the millionth time, he wondered about Chris Jacobs. Did he really have no memory of those years? Or was he just covering his ass? Gerald had made it clear to the boys what he could do to their families if they disobeyed. And he’d sent that reminder basket to the kid in the hospital. A strong message not to talk.

Either way, the kid had stayed silent for twenty years.

His boss was having the same train of thought. “That Jacobs kid might have some memories stirred up by all this publicity.”

“He doesn’t even live in the state anymore. At least, I can’t find him. I look every now and then. He’s put as much space as possible between him and his past.”

The boss gave a withering stare. “The fucking story has gone national. Maybe worldwide. Dead kids do that to the media.”

Gerald shrugged. “He doesn’t know who I am or where to find me.”

“They could put out a description. You’re a little distinctive looking.” The man looked him up and down.

Gerald cringed inside. He’d done everything he could to look as normal as possible, but he constantly wondered if people were staring at him. He’d been a small child when he first realized he didn’t look like the other kids. And kids were cruel. He’d read that some animals ostracize based on appearance. Society acted like those animals. He’d always been the outcast.

“The important witness died. Daniel,” Gerald argued. “He’s the one who could’ve done some damage. He could have messed things up real bad, if he’d survived.”

“You’re fucking lucky Daniel’s dead.” His boss looked ready to pop a nut. “If I had known you were keeping those kids alive instead of getting rid of them, I would have strangled you with my bare hands back then.

“You’ve got some loose ends to tie up. Find Chris Jacobs now and get rid of him. You’ve put this off too long. I don’t know why I’ve put up with it. You should have taken care of it the minute he appeared. You’d told me they were all dead. Fucking lied to me that you were hanging on to some.”

His boss was starting to repeat himself. His face was red, and his silver hair stuck out in places. Usually he was impeccably groomed, but the situation was wearing on him.

Gerald ran a hand through his own hair. “I’ve looked for him. Every few years, I look. I’ve done every computer search possible. Either he doesn’t exist on paper or he’s changed his name. My money is on him changing his name.”

“He could still come forward. Maybe consent to be hypnotized to see if they can pick some shit out of his brain.”

“And what’s he gonna say? I remember a guy with white hair and some tattoos? I lived in an underground can for two years with another boy? How can that lead back to us?”

“Daniel lived for a long time. Daniel could’ve told him what he knew.” His boss wiped at the sweat on his temple.

“No one knew we were connected back then. A kid wouldn’t have figured that out.”

“Daniel was smart. Everyone said he was a fucking mini-genius.”

“Even a genius can’t add one and one together to come up with five,” Gerald argued.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“He didn’t have enough facts to figure it out.”

“You ask the sister where Chris Jacobs is?” his boss asked.

“Everyone has asked the sister. Police, media. She doesn’t say shit.”

“She’s got to have an idea of where her brother is. Start there. Finish the damned job. I don’t know how I’ve trusted you with anything. Now get out.”

Gerald hated him. “Yes, sir.”

There was a very good reason his boss trusted him. And Gerald hoped one day he’d have the opportunity to ram that reason into his perfect face.

“I’m sorry I cut it short today, Lisa. You gonna keep going?” Balancing on one foot, Jamie pulled her other foot behind her until it touched her shorts, stretching the muscle in the front of the thigh. “I don’t know why it’s cramping so bad.”

Lisa jogged in place. “I’ll do another circuit. Want to try tomorrow?”

“Yes, I think it’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Lisa spun around and dashed off. “Alternate some heat and ice!” she yelled over her shoulder.

Jamie nodded and gingerly headed up the walkway to her front door. Damn. Her thigh was really sore. They’d only covered three miles. Half of what she and Lisa usually did several times a week. She’d dig out the heating pad and do some gentle stretching. Drink lots, too. She didn’t think she was dehydrated, but the days had been getting ridiculously hot. It could happen.

Suddenly very thirsty, she pushed her front door open and made a beeline to the kitchen. And froze. Jesus Christ. Every drawer in her kitchen had been emptied onto the floor. Every cupboard was open. She slowly backed out of the room, eyes wide at the disaster.

Get out. Now.

“Don’t move. Don’t turn around,” a male voice uttered behind her.

She didn’t.

Something small and hard pressed against the back of her skull.

Her heart started to pound its way out of her chest, her mouth instantly dry, and her vision tunneled.

“I want you to slowly lie down on the floor. On your stomach and put your hands behind you.”

He’s going to rape me.

Jamie didn’t move. If she got down on the floor, she wouldn’t have a chance.