Free Bone Secrets 03 - Buried by Kendra Elliot Page B

him changing his name.”
    “He could still come forward. Maybe consent to be hypnotized to see if they can pick some shit out of his brain.”
    “And what’s he gonna say? I remember a guy with white hair and some tattoos? I lived in an underground can for two years with another boy? How can that lead back to us?”
    “Daniel lived for a long time. Daniel could’ve told him what he knew.” His boss wiped at the sweat on his temple.
    “No one knew we were connected back then. A kid wouldn’t have figured that out.”
    “Daniel was smart. Everyone said he was a fucking mini-genius.”
    “Even a genius can’t add one and one together to come up with five,” Gerald argued.
    “What the hell does that mean?”
    “He didn’t have enough facts to figure it out.”
    “You ask the sister where Chris Jacobs is?” his boss asked.
    “Everyone has asked the sister. Police, media. She doesn’t say shit.”
    “She’s got to have an idea of where her brother is. Start there. Finish the damned job. I don’t know how I’ve trusted you with anything. Now get out.”
    Gerald hated him. “Yes, sir.”
    There was a very good reason his boss trusted him. And Gerald hoped one day he’d have the opportunity to ram that reason into his perfect face.

    “I’m sorry I cut it short today, Lisa. You gonna keep going?” Balancing on one foot, Jamie pulled her other foot behind her until it touched her shorts, stretching the muscle in the front of the thigh. “I don’t know why it’s cramping so bad.”
    Lisa jogged in place. “I’ll do another circuit. Want to try tomorrow?”
    “Yes, I think it’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
    Lisa spun around and dashed off. “Alternate some heat and ice!” she yelled over her shoulder.
    Jamie nodded and gingerly headed up the walkway to her front door.
Damn.
Her thigh was really sore. They’d only covered three miles. Half of what she and Lisa usually did several times a week. She’d dig out the heating pad and do some gentle stretching. Drink lots, too. She didn’t think she was dehydrated, but the days had been getting ridiculously hot. It could happen.
    Suddenly very thirsty, she pushed her front door open and made a beeline to the kitchen. And froze.
Jesus Christ.
Every drawer in her kitchen had been emptied onto the floor. Every cupboard was open. She slowly backed out of the room, eyes wide at the disaster.
    Get out. Now.
    “Don’t move. Don’t turn around,” a male voice uttered behind her.
    She didn’t.
    Something small and hard pressed against the back of her skull.
    Her heart started to pound its way out of her chest, her mouth instantly dry, and her vision tunneled.
    “I want you to slowly lie down on the floor. On your stomach and put your hands behind you.”
    He’s going to rape me.
    Jamie didn’t move. If she got down on the floor, she wouldn’t have a chance.
    “Get down, now!” he growled.
    She shook her head, unable to speak, unable to move her legs.
    “Fucking bitch.” He rammed his hand into the small of her back and ground the gun into her neck. “Move it!”
    Jamie fell to her knees and winced. He grabbed one of her arms and wrenched it behind her back, the gun still digging into her neck.
    “Where’s your brother?”
    Chris?
“What?” Her voice squeaked.
    The gun dug deeper. “Where’s that fucking brother of yours? The one with the pretty round scars down his face.” He moved the gun around to her cheek and shoved it into her flesh. “You want some matching scars? I’ve got a pack of cigarettes handy.”
    Tears rolled down her cheeks. The gun hurt, but not as bad as the image of Chris’s skin burning.
    “Where is he? I know that reporter is looking for him. Everybody wants a piece of Chris Jacobs right now. The famous survivor.” He spit the last sentence. “Does he really not remember where he was and what happened to him? I bet he remembers my cigarettes.”
    Jamie frantically shook her head. “Nothing…he