Bone Secrets 03 - Buried

and struck him in the back of the head again. Gerald powered forward, aiming low with his shoulder in the direction of the voice, and rammed something solid. Swearing in Spanish, the attacker fell backward and landed hard on the concrete floor. He heard the air rush out of the man’s lungs, and he lunged forward again, hands grabbing and punching. Adrenaline lit up his brain with fireworks. He got one hand on the metal bar and yanked, flinging it behind him.
    His attacker was old. The voice was scratchy, and the movements were of a weak man. Easily overpowering the attacker on the floor, Gerald rolled the old man onto his stomach and knelt on his back, yanking his head up by his hair.
    “You the baker, you useless piece of shit?” he hissed in the man’s ear.
    The man struggled underneath him, and he pulled harder on the hair, overextending the man’s neck.
    “You want me to break your neck? Is that what you want me to do? Because I can. I can do it so fast you’ll never even know.”Gerald punctuated his threats with more yanks, and the old man gasped for air. “My fucking head hurts! You old bastard!”
    He squinted in the dim light and spotted an electrical cord plugged into the wall. Stretching, he jerked it out, and a phone fell to the floor. He wrestled the old man’s arms behind him and spun the cord around his hands. He grabbed the old man’s head with both hands and slammed it into the floor. The baker went still.
    He slid off the man’s back and collapsed on the floor, gasping for air, trying to slow his heart rate.
    Jesus Christ!
He’d nearly been taken out by a senior citizen.
    He’d been sloppy and overconfident. He was lucky he wasn’t flat on the ground with a metal bar sticking out of his skull. Gerald spotted the bar across the room and rose on shaky legs to retrieve it. It was rough and heavy in his hands. Rebar.
    Primitive.
    He rubbed at his skull. But effective.
    His foot kicked his gun. He put it back in his shoulder holster and eyed the prostrate body on the floor.
    Dead? He’d smacked his head pretty hard.
    Gerald squatted and held two fingers to the old man’s neck. A weak pulse fluttered.
    Good. Not dead. He needed some answers.
    He stood up and blew out a breath. He was still seeing stars and desperately needed a drink of water. By the light of his cell phone, Gerald found a tap and a glass and drank deep. He filled the cup again and poured it over the old man’s head.
    Nothing.
    He checked the pulse and barely yanked his fingers away from the snapping teeth of the old man.
    “God damn it!” He gave the baker an angry kick in the ribs and was rewarded with the sound of a painful grunt. He hauledthe old man up and thrust him into a chair. Finding some twine, he tied the man to the chair rungs and flipped on the single light bulb over the kitchen sink. Gerald slammed a chair directly in front of him and sat, staring the old man full in the face. The man shrank away in horror, averting his eyes.
    “
Diablo blanco,
” he whispered.
    “Ah. I see you’ve heard of me.” Gerald grinned. Apparently, Juan was closer to Chris than the townspeople knew. Gerald doubted Chris shared stories from the old days with many people. Gerald kept the memories to himself, visiting them late at night when he was alone. It’d been an addiction, that intoxicating rush of power to his brain back then. Nothing else had ever matched the high of those boys under his thumb.
    Now, he was seductively close to having Chris again.
    “You can guess why I’m here.”
    Old Juan was silent, his gaze on the floor. Blood oozed from a cut above his eye and from his nose.
    “Where’s my buddy Chris?”
    Nausea crossed Juan’s face. Gerald stood and grabbed him by the chin, forcing the man to look in his direction. “Look at me! Do I look like I’m fucking around? Where is he?”
    Terror widened the old man’s eyes, but he looked straight at Gerald.
    Silence.
    Gerald smiled. “Fine. We’ll do it your way.”

Mason had showered twice last night but swore he could still smell the ME’s office stench clinging to his skin. He shifted restlessly in his office chair, checking his e-mail, hoping Dr. Peres had sent some reports. No dice. It was too early in the day to expect something. Heck. He’d just been there yesterday. He lifted his wrist to his nose and sniffed.
    “Why in the hell do you keep doing that?”
    He looked up to find Ray glowering at him from across their desks. Their two desks were