Horror and rage pounded inside his skull, vicious battering rams behind his eyes, coloring everything he saw in a bloody, horrid sheen of red.
Men he’d called friends.
Men he’d admired.
Men he’d trusted.
Damn them all to hell—them and himself. Had he called himself a good judge of character? How many times had one of the kids who trusted him gone home to a monster?
Noah’s nails bit into his palms as he fought the urge to shove off the door and open it, take off down the hall and find some of them. One in particular.
His phone rang and he pulled it off his belt, stared at the name on the display.
Swallowing back the bitterness knocking at the back of his throat, he looked up and found Jensen looking at him. He jerked his head at her and waited as she rested a hand on Caleb’s arm. The boy flinched under her touch and then fell silent.
She came to Noah and he showed her the phone, using the button on the side to silence the ringing. “Want me to answer it?” he asked.
“I don’t think that’s wise.” She kept her voice low, leaning in so Caleb wouldn’t hear them. “I don’t know if you can keep him from realizing something’s wrong. He’s too smart. He’ll know.”
Noah nodded and hit the button to ignore the call.
“They’ll all be figuring it out soon,” he said, flicking a look at Caleb.
The door behind Noah opened a fraction.
Noah stayed where he was and the door hit the backs of his boots, opening no more than a couple of inches.
“Caleb…?”
Jensen moved to stand in the doorway, staring out at Caleb’s mother, Mandy.
“Jensen.”
Noah heard her voice tremble a little. “I … I wondered where you’d gone. I fell asleep and…”
Noah watched as a polite smile curved Jensen’s mouth. Nothing showed on her face. Not anger, not sadness. Not rage. Nothing. “You needed the rest, Mandy. We’ll be done talking with Caleb in a bit. You can speak with him, then.”
“I don’t think you should speak with him without an adult. A lawyer.”
Noah glanced over to where Dean sat.
Well, they had a lawyer in there, but Mandy would probably explode, or try to shut Caleb down, when she learned why. Caleb had tried to tell her. Tried, and she’d just refused to hear.
Jensen gave another one of those blank, professional smiles. “It’s early yet, but I don’t think you need to worry about a lawyer for Caleb.”
A knot loosened in Noah’s gut. That had been a fear—that the boy had already suffered so much and then might have to suffer even more. He’d acted foolishly, but those in pain often did.
Mandy’s voice steadied. “Where’s Noah? I left Noah with him.”
Jensen glanced his way.
Resting his hand back against the door for a minute, Noah closed his eyes and prayed for … something. He didn’t even know what he was asking for. Then he moved around, still keeping enough of his weight behind the door to keep Mandy from pushing her way in.
He and Jensen didn’t want Mandy to see Dean. Not now. Not yet.
“I’m still in here, Mandy. Don’t worry. I’m taking care of Caleb, okay? He’s just got some things he needs to talk to Jensen about.”
Mandy’s eyes narrowed and her mouth went flat as she stared into Noah’s face. “I don’t want my son talking to the police without a lawyer, Noah. He’s not going to get in trouble over this. It was one of those lousy friends of his. Let me in … now. Or I’ll call hospital security.”
“If that’s what you need to do, then you go ahead.” Noah nodded and eased the door closed.
Hospital security had already been notified of a minor in danger. Jensen had taken care of that first thing. Noah hoped they’d keep it under a tight lid, because they didn’t need any of those sons of bitches getting wind of what was getting ready to blow.
Bracing his shoulders against the door, he looked back over at the boy. He hovered just at the edge of manhood. It was there in the lanky frame, shoulders just starting to widen. But right then, he looked like a child, one with big, scared eyes and shame written all over his face. Caleb shot a look at Noah and then looked back at Jensen and Dean.
The cop and the lawyer met Caleb’s gaze levelly. Noah didn’t know how they could be so calm. He wanted to grab the kid and promise him everything would be okay. But how could he make that promise?
“They’ll lie,” Caleb said, his voice steady. “They’ll make it all go away. That’s what they do. That’s why I had to run. I was going to take the disc to Indianapolis. The mayor wanted to run for state congressman or something.… I thought…” He stopped and swallowed, dashing the tears from his cheeks. “I thought if I took it to a big paper and found somebody who’d talk about it, they’d do something, just because of the political shit. But now I’m stuck here. They’ll all hide it. They’ll make it all go away.”
“They can’t,” Jensen said, lowering her weight to the edge of the bed. She leaned in and caught his hand in hers. “They can’t make it go away because I won’t let it. Dean’s not going to let it go away … are you, Dean?”
Dean leaned in and caught Caleb’s eyes. Noah didn’t know much about Dean. The man had only lived in the area for a year or two. But from what Noah had heard, the man had been a hotshot lawyer in Lexington and had made some waves there.
“Caleb,” Dean said, his voice slow, soft and deep. He talked like a man who was used to talking to scared young kids. “I am not going to let this go away.”
Dean folded his hands in front of him and continued to watch Caleb. “There’s not a person in this room who is going to pretend they didn’t hear what you told them, Caleb. Not one of us who’ll pretend we didn’t see that disc. And…” He nodded slowly like he was thinking something through. “I don’t know about Detective Bell or Mr. Benningfield, but I personally don’t give a shit about how big the mayor thinks he is.” Dean smiled and it was truly a shark’s smile, deadly, a flash of white on his dark face. “I can tell you now—I’m bigger. And I know people far bigger than the mayor can ever hope to be.”
Caleb looked down and fisted his hands in the blanket.
Dean touched Caleb’s arm lightly. The boy flinched but looked up.
“We won’t ignore this. We’ll fight it and we’ll make sure they pay for it. But you need to trust us.”
It was so quiet in the room, they could hear the soft voices of the nurses out in the hall. As Caleb’s low, unsteady breaths stretched out, filling the silence, Noah said his name and waited until Caleb looked at him.
“You wanted to tell me for a long time,” he said. When Caleb didn’t respond, he pushed, hoping he wasn’t pushing too hard. “Didn’t you?”
With a jerky nod, Caleb averted his head and stared outside.
“You have to trust me now. Trust us.”
The boy swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “What happens when they make me go home?” he whispered. “My mom will think I’m lying. She always does. She … she can’t believe anything bad about my dad.”
“You won’t go home, son.” Dean blew out a breath and then looked over at Jensen, arching a brow. “We’re already working on the next step. We have to get you someplace safe, and that is not any place where you’ll have contact with your father, or the men who hurt you.”
Caleb laughed. The broken, jagged sound echoed through the room and the adults flinched at the sound of it. “Then you better send me away from here … far, far away.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“I want to know why I can’t speak to my nephew,” Jeb snapped, glaring at the little bitch sitting behind the desk just across the way from him. “I want to know why he’s being kept away from his parents. You’re denying him his rights, Bell, and I’m about ready to have your ass over it.”
He bent over her desk, but before he could say anything else, a familiar heavy tread came through the bull pen.
; Their small police force had been acting odd. Ever since he’d gotten the call about Caleb, Jeb had suspected there was a problem. The boy had gotten his act together, finally. They’d thought.
But now …
“Jeb.”
Looking up, he met the chief’s gaze, and slowly Jeb straightened away from Jensen’s desk.
“Sir.”
“You’ve had a rough few days, with this trouble about your nephew and all. But you need to pull back.” The chief smiled, a tired twist of his lips. Running a hand back over his balding head of hair, he skimmed a look around the room. “You’re too close to this to even be discussing it with Detective Bell.”
“I just want to know why she’s not letting his family speak with him,” Jeb said sourly. Fear was a scream in his blood and he was acutely aware of everybody in there.
Had the boy—
But no.
It didn’t add up.
Glenn Blue was over at his desk. If any of the boys—
Stop it. Jeb blanked his thoughts and kept his gaze on the chief.
“Actually, I think his doctors are behind most of that,” Chief Sorenson said. “Damn doctors. They got him on a suicide watch. Until they get him a little steadier, ain’t nobody going to be talking to that boy.”
Suicide watch—
“Then how come Mandy saw her in there?” Jeb shot Jensen a dirty look. “If she was pushing him that hard, she needs to be written up over it.”
The chief just gave Jeb another somber look. “You’ll leave me to do my job, Detective. You do yours. Speaking of which … we need to talk about the Jane Doe. Why don’t we have that chat in my office?”
Jeb opened his mouth to argue. But one look at the chief’s face convinced him not to bother.
* * *
Over the past week, some rough information had come in.
The most recent was the report confirming their dead body was in fact female.
Jeb recited the facts he already knew as the chief read through the report he’d thrown together late Friday, but it was half-assed at best and he knew it. He hadn’t expected to be called in here over this, not for a few more days.
But he couldn’t even focus on the case. All he could think about was the boy. The house.
What had he been doing there?
I don’t want to do this—
He shoved the memory of screams, broken and desperate, to the back of his mind.
“Any luck on the dental records?”
Forcing his attention back to the job, Jeb leaned forward and shook his head. “Nope. There won’t be, either.” He’d made that call—covering the bases and all—because he was a cop, a good one, and he’d do his job, but there wasn’t going to be any new information about the bitch they’d found down in the ground. “Body is too old. She’s probably been in the ground a good ten years—the boards would have taken that long to decay and she’s been down there at least that long.”
He’d told them. They should have torn the cellar floor up, gone down into their old room. Then they’d have found her. But others argued against destroying the judge’s property. And now …
The chief studied him, eyes shrewd and thoughtful. “So? If she’s local, we can still maybe get an ID from X-rays, right?”
“Not likely.” He gave Chief Sorenson a small smile and shrugged. “Not likely here, or anywhere else.”
“Why is that?”
“Dental offices only keep records for about seven years or so.” Jeb leaned back in the chair and steepled his fingers together, pressing the tips together to keep from fidgeting as the chief’s gaze cut through him. The urge to look at the clock was strong. He had to get out of there, had to find another way to get in and see Caleb. Make sure he understood. He was almost seventeen. Caleb knew what that meant. Soon—
“Please elaborate, Detective.” Sorenson stroked his beard, leaning forward to flip through the file again.
“Even the most conscientious only keep them for about ten years, at the max. After that, the records are destroyed.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
“No, sir.”
A disgusted curse escaped the older cop and Sorenson sat forward, eyes all but burning in his face. “You’re telling me there is no way I can access the records for the Sutter family or the Rossi girl.”
“Afraid not,” Jeb said, shrugging. He almost threw out, What does it matter? It was twenty years ago. But he kept it behind his teeth. The chief wanted answers. They’d probably be able to get an age on the body, but that was it.
Once they got the age, they could narrow it down and the chief would leave Jeb the hell alone, but until then he had to act like he gave a flying fuck. With that in mind, he nodded to the file. “Too much time has passed, sir. Twenty years. The Sutters saw Dr. Pascoe—he remembers them. He retired, sold the practice, but he remembers them. Records that old were all destroyed.”
“Well, shit.” Sorenson leaned back and dragged a hand down his face.
“Yes, sir.” Jeb closed the file and went to stand. “Basically, unless more evidence is uncovered, we wait for any trace evidence that the state might find.” Madison was a small town, too small for them to have the manpower or the equipment they’d need for a case like this. Which meant they had to reach out to the state cops for help. They’d already turned over the body, samples and anything remotely useful—as well as plenty of shit that probably wasn’t. Now they just had to wait. Wait and work the case as much as they could on their end. “The state might find something, but we’re going to be waiting awhile, even on something as simple as the DNA. The body is old; there’s no sign this connected to anything major.”
“Yeah, I know how it works. We’re too small for the state to worry about much. Fuck a duck.” Sorenson started to tap a fist on the arm of his chair, staring past Jeb out into the bull pen. “DNA is gonna be a bitch, too. Any luck finding a family relative for Diane Sutter?”
“No.” Jeb managed to glance at his watch under the pretense of straightening it. Too much time in here already. “She was an only child. Her parents both died. I think there was a brother on the father’s side, but no luck locating him so far.”
“Keep trying. It’s the best we’ve got.” Sorenson shook his head, disgusted.
He had reason, Jeb guessed. If they were hoping for DNA to solve the case, they might be shit out of luck with Diane. It had to be a direct relative, parent, brother, sister, child.
A few seconds of silence passed and the chief thumped a fist on the desk. “The best is shit. Now even the house is a huge wreck. Looking for any more evidence … yeah, good luck with that.”
“There was one useful thing the doc told me.” Maybe if he gave the chief something, he’d let him leave. Maybe.
Sorenson lifted a brow. “Yeah?”
“Pascoe didn’t have the Rossi girl in his office much, but he did remember her. Said she had perfect teeth.”
“Perfect teeth?”
“Yeah. I guess it was enough of an oddity that it just stuck out for him, even after all this time. Apparently, Rossi had one of the best sets of teeth he’d ever seen on a kid, never needed a bit of work. No braces, no cavities, nothing.”
“Huh.” The chief leaned forward and snagged a pen, jotting his own notes down. “That is something. Definitely something. Maybe we can get an X-ray of the DB’s teeth, have him take a look and see what he thinks.”
“I’ll make a note of it, see what I can do.”
Sorenson lifted his head and stared at Jeb.
It was a long, eerie sort of look, that kind that left Jeb feeling like a moth pinned to the wall. “Yeah. You do that, son.”
In the next second, Jeb heard the door open behind him. He rose and half-turned, keeping the chief in his line of sight, even as he watched the woman in the door. Bell … and she had two state troopers at her back.
It was the troopers, more than anything else, who sent an alarm screeching through his mind.
&
nbsp; “Detective,” Chief Sorenson said, his voice low and steady. “I’ll have to ask for your weapon.”
Jeb dropped his hand to it.
Everybody in there did the same.
“Sir?”
“Your weapon, Sims.” The chief moved out from behind his desk as Bell came inside.
One of the troopers shut the door behind him and the room shrank down to about the size of a coffin and Jeb could feel the sweat collecting at the base of his spine.
“Come on, Jeb. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be,” Sorenson said, and he had that fucking hangdog I’m just a tired, hardworking cop look on his face, the same one he’d used out there in the bull pen to sucker Jeb in.
Son of a bitch.
Pasting a smile on his face, Jeb pulled his gun free. “Of course. I don’t know what this is about but—” He watched as some of the tension eased.
Then he lifted the gun and placed it under his chin.
Jensen’s shout was the very last sound he heard.
* * *
Night had finally fallen. It had to be one of the longest days of his entire life, and there had been some lousy ones.
He stood at the outskirts of the property.
The skeletal remains of the house stabbed into the sky.
It would be torn down.
It was best, he decided. It should have been done ages ago. If only he’d known …
“Where is he?”
Turning his head, he watched as Caine came striding through the fog curling up from the ground. The night had gotten cool and the mist coming off the river made it almost impossible to see much more than twenty or thirty feet in front of them.
Just about perfect for what he had in mind, really.
Pulling a cigar from his pocket, he lit it and eyed Caine over the glow of the flame. “Where is who, son?”
“You know who.” The bigger, younger man leaned in, eyes narrowed with fury and rage all but trembling in his voice. “I spent half the fucking day watching for him. His truck’s not at his house. His wife just called and made a Missing Persons report. Where the fuck is good old Charley at?”
He smiled. “Now, Caine, how am I supposed to know that?”
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