Unseen (Will Trent / Atlanta Series)

wasn’t a nine-year-old on the planet who had yet mastered concealing the kind of pain Will read in Benji’s eyes.
    He missed his mother. She had obviously neglected him, likely abused him, but he still needed his mom. She’d helped him with his fractions. Maybe she’d worked on the rest of his homework, too. She’d undoubtedly moved him around a lot, staying one step ahead of child welfare services because even crack whores didn’t want to admit that they were bad mothers.
    Benji’s lack of accent was the big giveaway. He’d probably never stayed one place long enough to pick one up. He sounded better educated than the three adults in the house. He had better table manners, too. He used his fork and knife to peel away the skin on the chicken leg.
    Tony snorted. “Where’d you learn them airs, boy?”
    “Leave him be,” Cayla shot back. She moderated her tone as she asked Will, “You like working at the hospital?”
    Will nodded and talked with his mouth full. “How long have you been there?”
    “About five years,” she answered, which was a lie. Cayla’s tax records had her working part-time for several different doctors before landing the pharmacy job six months ago. Even then, shestill rotated in and out of the offices on her off days, probably to help pay her DUI fine. And pay for a house with a mortgage that was so far underwater she could see China from her front porch.
    She said, “The hospital’s all right. I like the pharmacy hours. With Benji here, I’ve gotta be home when school’s out.”
    Benji stiffened, as if he was surprised to hear the news.
    “How long has he been living with you?” Will asked.
    “This time?” She shrugged. “I guess a couple of weeks or so. Ain’t that right, Benji?”
    “A month,” Benji told Will. He probably had a calendar in his head where he marked each day. His voice was quieter when he said, “They took me away a month ago.”
    Tony offered, “I been at the hospital a year. Can’t say I like it. Cleaning up shit and puke all day. People treatin’ me like I’m the help.”
    Cayla’s face creased with an angry frown. “Then why don’t you go back to Beaufort, with the rest of the Geechees?”
    Will ignored her sharp tone, concentrating on her words. “Beaufort? That’s where the Sea Islands are, right? Over in Carolina?”
    Tony narrowed his eyes at Will. “Why you askin’?”
    Will shrugged his shoulders. “I rode my bike through there a while back. Hit Charleston, Hilton Head. Made my way down to Savannah. Pretty coastline.”
    Cayla’s lighter snapped as she lit another cigarette. “Yeah, well, Tony ain’t from the pretty parts. He spent his summers livin’ with his mama on the wrong side of Broad.”
    While Will wasn’t surprised to learn that Tony was on the wrong side of anything, he was very curious about this new piece of information. The GBI had run an extensive background check on Anthony Dell. He was born just outside of Macon. His records had him living in the area all of his life, but there would be no mention in the files of where Tony spent his school vacations.
    Will asked Tony, “You ever been to Hilton Head?”
    Instead of answering, Tony just stared at Will. Suspicion oozed out of every pore.
    Will stared back, wondering how far he should push it. Big Whitey had been tracked through both Hilton Head and Savannah. Tony had probably been hearing about the man for years. It suddenly made sense why he was so desperate to be part of the action. Little guys always wanted to run with the big dogs.
    Cayla supplied, “Tony spent a coupla three summers on Hilton Head.” She arched an eyebrow at Tony. “His mama was a waitress when she wasn’t spreadin’ her legs for rent money.”
    Tony’s face soured, but he didn’t contradict her.
    Cayla continued, “She hopped around all the dive bars, worked until they got tired of her or realized she was stealing too much.” She took another hit from the cigarette. “Tony lived with her every summer since he was, what, Benji’s age? Weren’t you eight or nine when they got divorced?”
    Tony gave a sulky one-shoulder shrug, but at least Will knew why this bit of history hadn’t come up on the background check. Unless a kid got arrested or ended up in juvie, there were very few public records until they turned old enough to buy a car, rent an apartment, or start paying taxes.
    Will said, “I like it up there.”
    “You mean over there,” Tony countered. His eyes went