Alone (A Bone Secrets Novel)

“What the hell happened?” The old man tried not to shout on the phone.

 

The reports of the shooting were all over the late-night news. He stared at his TV, a graphic of the memorial service overlaid with a gun hung behind the newscaster’s left shoulder. The female newscaster frowned as she related the story, her disapproval ringing in her tone.… a teenager pulled out a gun in the middle of a packed crowd saying farewell to Glory McCarthy…

 

Guns were the hot topic at the moment. A new rash of public shootings had escalated the subject to the top of every lawmaker’s list. Big changes were in the works.

 

“I don’t know. I haven’t been able to get any information, Father.” Leo’s voice cracked slightly.

 

Idiot.

 

“It’s bad enough you were seen at the medical examiner’s today. Now this?” the old man asked.

 

“It wasn’t our fault.”

 

“Why was he there? He was told to avoid the services. Police tape those, specifically looking for familiar faces.”

 

“Jason wanted to go with his friends. He thought it would look bad if he didn’t.”

 

The old man blew out a breath. “I gave specific orders to not go to the memorial services. You should have told me what he was doing.”

 

“I didn’t know.”

 

“That’s no excuse.”

 

The line was silent.

 

Yes, his son couldn’t be expected to prevent what he didn’t know was happening. That meant he needed to watch Jason closely.

 

“You need to know what my grandson is doing. Keep a tighter rein on his activities. Do you know where he is all hours of the day?” He didn’t care if the question seemed unfair. They were in a crisis mode. There could be no more mistakes. “Our success stems from our control. It’s important that no one step out of line. And it’s up to us to enforce it.”

 

“He’d said he was going to a friend’s house. He’s always at someone’s home.”

 

“Then it’s time to curb his activities. Who’s in control in your home? You or Jason? You can’t let him run freely about the city doing as he pleases. He’s shown he can’t be trusted. It’s time to crack down.”

 

Why did he have to give this talk? Leo knew the rules. He knew he was directly responsible for Jason’s actions. “How are you going to fix the problem at the medical examiner’s?” the old man asked.

 

“I don’t think there is a problem. I got what we needed and confused the scene to mislead them. It will take them days to sort it out.”

 

“You’re making assumptions. They’re professionals. You know the bones have been assigned to Victoria Peres. She’s renowned for her anthropology skills. It may be as simple as an easy crossword puzzle for her.”

 

The line went silent again. Let him think on that. The old man didn’t tolerate sloppy work or assumptions made on no information. Let him sweat under his father’s praise for the woman’s work. Maybe it would push him to try a little harder. Nothing like a bit of rivalry.

 

“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.

 

Why was Jason striking out at him the way he had?

 

Sweat pooled under his arms. Had Jason discovered the shed?

 

Everyone had secrets. His were firmly locked away inside the shed and out in the forest. He wasn’t proud of his weakness; he’d worked hard to control his urges. Even the shed looked innocent to a casual observer, but with a little digging, his world could be turned upside down.

 

His grandson could destroy him.

 

He was physically too weak to make any changes in the shed now. It was a rare day when he could walk out there without panting for breath.

 

He needed to see Jason.

 

 

Leo ended the call with his father.

 

How dense could the old man be? Did he see nothing?

 

The elder was losing it. For someone who’d led people for decades, the man was no longer logical. Perhaps it was simply aging. Perhaps his brain was rotting from the inside. How else could you explain the man’s actions over the years?

 

Why did his father still shove Victoria Peres in his face? Anger burned up his throat. The woman was an abomination. Women shouldn’t do what she does. She pranced around the country, showing off her knowledge, speaking at colleges, speaking at national seminars. That was a role for a man.

 

He knew she’d failed in her marriage. No doubt she’d driven the man away with her unfemale aggressiveness.

 

Someone needed to use a heavy hand with her. Show her how an obedient woman should act.

 

He paced the small bedroom in his house. It should be his role. He had the right to show her how a woman should act. His father hadn’t stepped forward to take care of it. Didn’t that mean the responsibility fell to him?

 

Excitement shot through him, like a stimulant had been injected into his veins.

 

He wanted her to know that he’d snagged her skulls out from under her watchful eye. He needed her to know that she wasn’t the perfect woman she presented herself as. He wanted the satisfaction of seeing her fear him, admire him. His eyes closed. He could see her dressed in the flowing white dresses of the dead teens, her long black hair spread out on the ground around her, her skin a bloodless white.

 

He stopped and stared in the small mirror above his dresser. He had to give the stolen skulls to his father. But he knew where to find more. A lot more.

 

He wanted to send Victoria a message that she was being watched. What better delivery system than bones?