Indelible

"He wasn't my partner."

"I don't have time for your ego," Wagner reprimanded. "What I want from you when you come out of that place is a detailed drawing of where everyone is. I need to know how many desks and filing cabinets are against the doors and I need to know exactly how they're armed. What are they using, Sig, S amp;W, Glock? Detective Wallace thinks the shotgun is a Wingmaster. Did they bring extra ammo? What caliber? Are they still wearing Kevlar? How are they getting along? Is one getting a little too big for his britches? Maybe the other one can be turned or distracted. I need to know every weakness in their armor, and I can't get that from you if you stay inside."

Lena nodded. All of that would be useful, and there was no way Molly Stoddard would even begin to know how to tell the difference between a twenty-two and a nine-mil, let alone give an accurate assessment of available firepower.

Lena asked, "Should I try to pass them anything?"

"No," Wagner said. "Not at this point. We need to establish some trust. They're going to pat you down head to toe." She glanced at Lena's shoe. "If they find anything, they're going to be angry, and they're going to take it out on someone. This someone might not be you, so before you take any risks, you need to ask yourself if it's worth jeopardizing the lives of the people around you."

"Okay," Lena said, shifting her weight. "I'm ready."

Wagner stared at her for a beat. She smiled ruefully. "Sweetheart, you can piss on my face, but don't tell me it's raining."

Lena was caught out, but she tried not to show it.

Wagner glanced down at Lena's shoe again. All she said was, "Be careful."

Chapter Fourteen

Monday

Jeffrey trudged back through the woods, his socks bunching from the wet earth. He stopped by a tree, using it to lean on while he peeled them off. The rain was barely more than a memory, and the air was filled with mist as the sun evaporated it up to the clouds. Jeffrey wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand as he walked into the cemetery. The sun was sharper in the open graveyard, and the sloping hill with its jutting white markers seemed like teeth in the big mouth that was trying to swallow him.

Reggie was sitting in his cruiser with the door open, a cigarette hanging from his lips. He stayed where he was, making Jeffrey come to him. The asphalt was blistering against Jeffrey's bare feet, but he was damned if he'd show it.

Reggie gave a leisurely glance down at the wet athletic socks Jeffrey held in his hand. His lip curled up in a sarcastic sneer, but Jeffrey didn't let him get out whatever shitty thing he wanted to say.

"Take me to the station," Jeffrey ordered, climbing into the passenger seat of the cruiser.

Reggie took one last suck on his cigarette before closing the door. He cranked the engine and let it idle for a few minutes. "Where's your girl?"

"She's fine," Jeffrey told him. Despite the fact that she had been scared out of her mind seconds before finding the bones, Sara had insisted on staying with them while Jeffrey went to get help.

Reggie rested his hand on the shift for a moment before putting the car in gear. He took his time merging onto the interstate and drove the posted speed limit into town, waving at folks out the window like he hadn't a care in the world. Jeffrey tried not to show his irritation, knowing Reggie was doing all this on purpose, but as they crawled past the high school at twenty miles per hour, he had to let off some steam or he would explode.

"Is there a reason you're going this slow?"

"Just to piss you off, Slick."

Jeffrey stared out the window, wondering how much worse this day could get.

Reggie said, "You wa

"No."

"That's your prerogative."

Jeffrey gave a low whistle. "Big word."

"I thought you might be impressed."

"Your sister teach you that?"

"You shut up about my sister."

"How's Paula doing?"

"I said shut up, you fucker," Reggie said, his voice a low warning. "Why don't you ask me how my cousins are doing? How they're getting by without their father? How it feels for all of us when we get together and my uncle Dave's not there?"

Jeffrey felt all the guilt his words could bring and more. Still, he said, "I'm not my father's keeper."

"Yeah," Reggie said, making a sharp turn into the sheriff's station parking lot. "That's real convenient for you. I'll tell that to my cousin Jo when she graduates this fall and her daddy's not around to congratulate her. I'm sure it'll be a real comfort."

Jeffrey grabbed his wet socks off the floorboard and got out of the car before Reggie cut the engine. He walked into the building, ignoring the secretary and the deputy who was leaning over her desk as he went back to Hoss's office, opening the door without knocking.

Hoss looked over the newspaper he was reading when Jeffrey closed the door. "What is it, son?"

Jeffrey wanted to sit down, but something stopped him. Instead, he leaned against the wall for support, the weight of his fears catching up with him. He looked at Hoss's office. Like the man, nothing had changed in the last decade. The fishing trophies and photographs of Hoss on his boat were still around, and the folded American flag that had been on his brother's coffin when they brought his body back from Vietnam was still given a place of prominence on the shelf by the window. After his brother had died, Hoss had tried to join up, but his flat feet had kept him out. He always joked that the Army's loss was Sylacauga's gain, but Jeffrey knew he did not like to talk about it, as if having flat feet made him less of a man.

Hoss prompted, "Jeffrey?"

"We found some bones."

"Bones?" Hoss asked, creasing his newspaper in a tight fold.

"In the old cave me and the boys used to use when we were in junior high."

"Out on the edge of the quarry?" Hoss asked in a careful tone. "Probably just a bear or something."

"Sara's a doctor, Hoss. She knows what human bones look like. Hell, even if she didn't, the damn thing was laying out on the rocks like she was taking a nap."

"She?" Hoss asked, and all the air went out of the room.

A knock came at the door.

"What is it?" Hoss demanded.

Reggie opened the door. "I was just -"

"Give us a minute," Hoss barked, his tone inviting no dissention.

Jeffrey heard the click of the door, but his eyes were on Hoss. The old man seemed to have aged about a hundred years in the past few seconds.

Jeffrey reached into his pocket and pulled out the chain he had found in the cave. He held it up, letting the gold heart-shaped locket twirl in the light.

"It doesn't prove anything," Hoss said. "She went to the cave a couple dozen times. Everybody knows that. Hell, she told them herself."

"Sara won't let this go."

"I thought y'all were leaving this afternoon?"

"I talked her into staying another day before all this happened," Jeffrey told him. "Even without that, she'll want to see this through."

"I don't see giving her a choice."

Jeffrey felt the heat of his remark and the underlying warning. "I don't have anything to hide," he said, hearing the false bravado in his own voice.

"It's not a matter of hiding anything, Slick. It's about burying the past and getting on with your life. You and Robert both."

"No matter how much of a bitch Lane Kendall is, she deserves to know this."

"Know what?" Hoss asked. He stood from his chair and walked to the window. Like Jeffrey's, his office had a stellar view of the parking lot. "We don't know anything right now."

"Sara will find out soon enough."

"Find out what?"