Bone Secrets 03 - Buried

tall, silver, and imposing with a direct green gaze that mirrored Michael’s. Cecilia was elegant and slender, always perfectly dressed, frequently surprising strangers with the iron will that hid beneath the soft surface. Successful. Wealthy. Perfect.
    The only flaw in their perfect lives had been the disappearance of their second son, Daniel. He’d been eleven years old to Michael’s thirteen when he’d vanished with a group of schoolmates. Michael’s memories of that time were a blur. Police, news cameras, reporters, more police. The kidnapping of the son ofOregon’s junior senator had made national headlines for weeks. Then faded away as no sightings of the children or their bus driver emerged. No confirmed sightings. Unconfirmed sightings had placed the bus in Mexico, Canada, and Brazil.
    Chris Jacobs had appeared two years later, and the story flared up again. The boy had been no help. He’d spent months in the hospital, part of the time in a coma, and more months in therapy for head injuries. His parents had kept the cameras and reporters away, defending their privacy.
    Michael had hated the child. Why had
that
boy survived? Why not Daniel?
    His mother had walked the house in a fog for months; his father had raged and held meetings with his brother Phillip, detectives, and other statesmen for hours in his study. Michael had hidden at the door, listening, hoping for good news but hearing only angry voices. Uncle Phil had become the family spokesman; The Senator was unable to speak publicly about Daniel and keep his composure. Phillip Brody had been a newly elected state representative. The tragedy placed him in the spotlight, and he drafted new crime bills, using Daniel’s case to push them into law. The election gods had shined favorably on Uncle Phil and slowly moved him up the political ladder into the governor’s mansion, where he currently sat, holding court for the last four years.
    Right now the publicity cyclone hadn’t started circling yet, but Michael knew it would. He could feel the pressure of the discovery ready to burst onto the front page and national news. This time Michael had the power to spin things to protect his mother. Nothing would be printed in the
Oregonian
without his okay. Better yet, no one would write about it but him. His editor knew Michael could present things in a balanced fashion andwould back him up. The long years of a solid working relationship and award-winning investigative reporting were about to pay off. He was going to call in every fucking favor owed him.
    He pulled his ever-present digital recorder out of his pocket and switched it on.
    “What in the hell are you doing with that?” The Senator nearly roared. “This isn’t the time for an interview.”
    Cecilia looked like a wounded kitten.
    “Time for the spin,” Michael said flatly. “You know how this works. You want to deal with the press or with me?”
    “Call Evelyn,” The Senator snapped. “Now.”
    Michael had already contacted his father’s publicist. “Evelyn agreed it was best I talked to you first. She’s going to have her hands full with the television reporters. I’m going to handle most of the print.”
    Michael’s mother squeezed her husband’s hand as The Senator opened his mouth to speak and then clamped it shut.
    “I’m sure Michael knows what he’s doing,” she stated calmly.
    He shot his mother a look of gratitude.
    “If you want to talk to someone, go find that boy. Jacobs.” His father’s voice cracked ever so faintly on the name. “Maybe he’s remembered something after twenty years. Maybe the discovery of so many graves will shake some memories loose.” A ribbon of spite wove through the words. The Senator had never forgiven the boy for living while his son was still missing. And he’d believed the boy hadn’t told all he knew, believed the police had been too lenient in their interviews, and the boy’s parents too overprotective.
    “I will.” Chris Jacobs was next on his list. After Michael’s parents. He pulled a delicate-looking chair from his mother’s desk and sat carefully, his heart heavy. He looked at his parents,and his mouth dried up. God, this was going to suck. He took a deep breath.
    “I know you’ve told the story a thousand times, but you haven’t ever talked to me about it. I need to hear everything that happened twenty years ago. And every other thought or suspicion you’ve had since then about who could have done this.”
    “Mind