Alone (Bone Secrets, #4)(26)

She needed to learn to be more deferential and humble.

Then she’d make a man a good wife.


Seth stared into his beer, his shoulders hunched over the polished oak bar. His hotel’s restaurant was noisy for 10 P.M. on a Monday night, and he’d instantly decided to sit in the quiet adjacent bar. He needed peace. It’d been a hell of a forty-eight hours. He’d barely stepped foot in Portland when he’d been summoned to the most tragic scene he’d ever witnessed. Then came the shock of seeing Tori. And then realizing Tori had never forgiven him.

Had he forgiven himself?

Seth took a long swallow of his dark beer and closed his eyes, letting the cool liquid roll over his tongue.

Why did he still play the “what if” game?

He couldn’t know how his life would be if he’d stayed with Tori. Possibly he could be a lot happier at this moment. Or he could be a lot more miserable. Eden would be a constant. He’d still love her with all his heart. He prayed he hadn’t damaged his daughter by divorcing her mother. And he prayed he hadn’t damaged his daughter by staying with her mother for as long as he had. He’d spent almost two decades trapped between a rock and a hard place. And praying a lot.

“This stool taken?”

Seth looked up into the face of Detective Callahan. “Only by you.”

The detective perched on the stool and lay his cowboy hat on the bar, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. He looked tired. His face seemed thinner than yesterday, and his jacket was rumpled. But the eyes were still razor sharp.

“It’s been a long two days,” Seth stated.

“You’re telling me,” answered the detective. “I hate the ones with kids.”

Seth nodded. He’d had too many kids cross his table in his years as a medical examiner. It never got easier. As a father, he saw his daughter’s face on each child.

“Come here often?” Seth lamely joked.

The detective snorted. “Actually I do. It’s a convenient stop on the way home.” He raised a hand at the bartender, who arched an eyebrow at him, and Callahan answered with a nod. The bartender started to pull a draft.

They sipped their beers in silence for a long moment. Seth didn’t feel the need to fill the emptiness with talk. He’d crossed paths with the detective twice that day at the ME’s building. He’d seen a man on a mission to get the girls’ mystery solved. The same mission Seth and Dr. Campbell had been on.

And they’d succeeded in part of their agenda. All six girls had been identified last night. One set of parents was at the hospital, hoping their daughter would wake. Five other sets had gone home to mourn. Many parents were hugging their kids tonight, while others were letting their roaming children understand the type of torture they’d inflicted on their parents.

“At least all the girls were named,” said Seth. “For a while there, I was wondering if we would to have a repeat of the old scene. If the media hadn’t picked up the story, I suspect we’d still have some unidentified kids.”

Callahan nodded. “It’s amazing how some parents don’t know what their teens are up to.” An odd look flashed on Callahan’s face, and Seth wondered if the detective had kids.

Do you know where Eden is right this minute?

He didn’t. That was part of going to college. He wasn’t supposed to wonder about her whereabouts, because college freshman knew how to use a little common sense and look out for themselves. Supposedly. Seth shifted his weight on his barstool, and he fought an overpowering need to call his daughter. Just to hear her voice.

“Christ. My son’s in his freshman year in college all the way down in North Carolina. He could go missing for days, and I’d never know he was gone. All I get is an occasional text. Usually asking for money,” Callahan commented. “I’ve called him twice today and he hasn’t answered.”

“Kids that age don’t call. When I want to talk to my daughter, I have to send a text asking if this is a good time to call.” Seth frowned. “I should call her tonight.” He glanced at his watch. “But she’s got a dance class on Monday nights. I don’t think she’s home yet.”

“Yeah, I’d want to touch base with my daughter after days like these, too.”

“Do you think it’s a copycat killing?” Seth asked.

Callahan frowned and concentrated on dropping the level of his beer for a few moments. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. “I don’t know what the hell it is. My mind’s been all over the map. If I assume this was orchestrated, and this group didn’t decide to commit mass suicide, it doesn’t point to a serial killer. Not yet. Not in the textbook sense anyway.”

“Textbook?”

“Serial killers often hunt humans for the sexual thrill it gives them. And they want to do it over and over again, believing they can outwit police. Did this scene give someone a sexual thrill? Possibly.” He eyed Seth. “According to you guys, none of the girls were touched in a sexual manner.”

“No evidence of any sort,” agreed Seth.

“So I ask myself, does that mean he’ll do it again?” He turned on his stool toward Seth, his face earnest. “Did this thrill him in a way such that he’ll want to outdo himself and take it to another level?”

Seth cringed. What would outdo that scene?