Alone (Bone Secrets, #4)(93)

“He’s going to kill them, just like he killed those other women. I knew he’d done it. I should have gone to the police right away as soon as I saw those pictures, but I didn’t know what to do.” The boy’s words spilled from his mouth in a rush.

“Ahhh.” Seth let out a sigh as the rope around his waist released. Blood rushed back to his head, clearing the cobwebs. Pressure from the rope had impaired his circulation. “Where’s your gun, Jason?”

“It’s right here.” He set the black pistol on Seth’s lap as he worked on the knots around his wrists. Seth looked at the useless gun; he couldn’t feel his fingers. So close but so far.

Jason suddenly snatched the gun away.

“Jason?” The older Abbadelli’s voice came from the doorway of the cabin. Seth looked over his shoulder, feeling his blood pressure skyrocket. Cesare Abbadelli stood with his shotgun pointed at the boy. Jason had his legs planted apart and the handgun pointed at his grandfather, his finger on the trigger.

Holy crap.

“Put the gun down, boy,” Abbadelli ordered.

Seth saw the quiver in Jason’s hands. Did the boy even know how to shoot? The old man seemed steadier on his feet than he’d been earlier. With a shotgun you didn’t really need to aim. At these close quarters, simply pointing it in the right direction would permanently take care of either him or Jason.

“No, Nonno. I won’t let you kill him.”

Seth saw the teen’s Adam’s apple bob nervously.

“I don’t plan to kill anyone.”

“But you killed those women all those years ago, didn’t you? The ones in the first circle?” Jason asked.

Abbadelli seemed to age twenty years with the question. “I had problems. Problems I couldn’t tell anyone about. I was ashamed, but I couldn’t stop myself.”

“It’s not too late,” Jason pleaded. “You can turn yourself in. You’re an old man, they wouldn’t treat you too bad.” His arms shook.

Abbadelli gave a harsh laugh. “They’d fry me, boy. At my age the best thing a man can do is pick the time he decides to leave this earth. I’ve had a long life, and I regret a lot of things. But what your father has done can never be undone. The police are too close. Leo is going to have to pay for what he’s done.”

“He’s going to do it again, Nonno. He’s going to dress them in white dresses and dye Trinity’s hair black. We’ve got to stop him!”

White dresses? Tori? Like the death circles?

Abbadelli looked at Seth. The old man’s brown eyes were tired. All the spit and fire Seth had seen earlier was long gone. Abbadelli was a shell of his earlier self. “Can you stop Leo?”

“Let me out of this chair, and I’ll do my damned best.” Seth wiggled in the chair, trying to loosen his hands. Abbadelli nodded at Jason and lowered his shotgun. He leaned heavily against the frame of the doorway.

Jason attacked the knots while Seth tried to hold still. After an eternity, the rope fell away and spikes jammed their way up Seth’s nerve pathways in his arms. He leaped out of the chair, rubbing at his hands. Jason offered him the gun. He shook his head; his fingers couldn’t aim the small gun. “I’ll shoot myself.”

Abbadelli held out the shotgun, his eyes downcast. That size weapon he might be able to handle. Point in the general direction and pull trigger. Seth clumsily tucked it under his arm, clasping it to his side, still working the circulation back into his hands. He stood for a second, studying the old man, who seemed to fold in on himself. “Victoria really made something of herself,” Abbadelli said quietly. “I don’t know what happened with Leo.”

His words spun in Seth’s head. Why would Abbadelli care about Victoria?

Jason tugged on his arm. “Let’s go. Hurry up. We’ve got to stop him.”

Seth jogged down the porch steps after the teen, and followed him into the dark. He glanced back at the porch and saw Abbadelli lift the flask from the porch railing to his lips.

Seth didn’t stop.

From far off, he heard a siren.


Victoria stood in front of Trinity, blocking Leo’s lecherous gaze as the teen changed into the dress. The dresses weren’t dresses. They were shapeless shifts sewn from white sheets. And there were at least a half dozen in the box. Victoria didn’t want to know how many there’d originally been. Trinity had turned her back and slipped the shift over her head, pulling her jeans and shirt off underneath. Victoria did the same and then followed Leo’s directions to help with Trinity’s hair.

Leo didn’t seem too upset by Jason’s absence. Victoria prayed he’d gone for help, but Leo blew it off, saying the boy had gone to hide under his bed.

Isabel had awoken two more times. Mumbling incoherently both times. Victoria worried for her. Her doubt about Isabel’s identity as her mother was nearly gone. She’d known in her gut the moment she’d seen her step into the street that she was looking at herself in thirty years. Minus the cigarettes.

She’d much rather claim the bond with Isabel than with Leo.

Or the bond to the Santa Claus with the shotgun who was her father.

It hadn’t sunk in. She remembered bits and pieces about Cesare Abbadelli from her childhood. He’d always had a pat on the head and a kind word for her. And then her family had left. Had her parents known she was Cesare’s daughter?