Bone Secrets 03 - Buried

same to everyone else if we didn’t obey him.”
    Michael was silent as he drove.
    Chris looked out the window. How many times had he relived that bus ride? If he’d flagged another motorist. If he’d tackled the Ghostman as his attention waned for a second. His life and everyone else’s could have been different.
    “You were only a kid,” Michael said. “Nothing you could have done would have made a difference.”
    Mind reader.
    Chris wiped at his cheek. One day he might actually believe that.

It felt like she’d been in the trunk forever.
    Jamie dozed in and out, the scenery never changing. Dark. Confined. The small access Mr. Tattoo had opened from the car to the trunk had probably saved her life. The cool air was heavenly. She was still thirsty, but at least she didn’t need to pee. Thank God for small miracles, because she had a hunch he didn’t want to be a bathroom escort.
    Hopefully, she wasn’t getting too dehydrated. No muscle cramps yet.
    The car slowed and went through a series of turns. She continually lost her balance and rolled awkwardly several times in the trunk. Were they actually nearing a destination?
    Please don’t take me to the bunker.
    She’d seen the faces of the cops who’d been in the bunker. And she’d read the descriptions in the newspaper. That’d been enough.
    Surely he was taking her somewhere else. Only an idiot would go back to the scene of the crime. But would a new location be an improvement?
    She was still alive and above ground. That was giving her hope. He had something in mind for her; otherwise, he would have killed her already.
    That meant she had a chance. She was a fighter, and she’d fight with whatever she could get her hands on.
    You’re no good to me roasted or barbecued.
That statement indicated he had something planned. But what? A ransom? Michael was probably loaded. He practically came from blue blood. Did her kidnapper know of her relationship with the reporter?
    The tattooed man hadn’t asked anyone for money when he had taken Chris and all those other kids. Ransom didn’t sound like his style. It appeared he’d kept those kids for his own twisted purposes.
    When he’d attacked her in her home, he’d wanted to know where Chris was. Did he think Chris would look for her? Did he think kidnapping her would bring Chris out in the open?
    Why did he want Chris?
    Chris didn’t remember anything. Chris couldn’t have identified Mr. Tattoo as his kidnapper. Why had he come out of the woodwork now? What could Chris do to him?
    Another turn slammed Jamie’s head against metal.
    Shit.
    She blinked away the wetness from her eyes. The car slowed and took a long turn. Then stopped. They idled for fifteen secondsand then slowly moved forward. Jamie listened hard, searching for any audible clue of where she could be. The roadway was smooth and paved, so at least they weren’t near the bunker.
    She exhaled slowly through her nose.
Like anywhere with him is okay.
    The car moved slowly for a short time and stopped. The engine turned off.
    Jamie held her breath. She heard the car door open. He got out, slammed the door, and his footsteps grew fainter. He was leaving her alone. In the dark.
    She strained her eyes to see in the dark. He’d left the space open to the trunk, but all she could see was a narrow view of cement walls, like the inside of a parking structure. An indirect light source gave the walls a soft glow.
    Where was she?
    Silence.
    She relaxed and closed her eyes, thinking of Michael. If anyone could figure out where she was, he could.

    Ray stretched in his chair, joints audibly popping. “Brody says the senator is spending the night at the governor’s mansion and then leaving with the governor for Japan in the morning on some political trip. He tried to reach him, but his cell is probably off. He’s heading to Salem to try to catch his father before they head to the airport.”
    “Looks like our killer is headed that way anyway.” Mason rubbed at his eyes. It was four in the morning, and he wasn’t going home anytime soon. There were too many irons in the fire that he wanted to keep an eye on.
    “We’ve got his vehicle description and plates out to every trooper on the road. We’ll find him,” Ray said confidently.
    “I want to know who this son-of-a-bitch really is. And I can’t believe that trooper took a fake ID.” Mason paced in the police building. He and Ray were the only ones on their floor working. Normal folks had gone