Buried (Bone Secrets, #3)(47)

The Internet exploded, and he was perfectly positioned to take advantage. His simple websites for local businesses caught the attention of other businesses. By the time he was eighteen, he was making more money than his father. Life was spinning along quite comfortably. Plastic surgeries had improved his scarring…or so he thought, until he’d stepped out in public and caught the children’s stares and the quick glances of adults who rapidly looked the other way.

Only once had he asked to see some of the other children who’d vanished with him. He’d been lucid for a few days between surgeries, during the second month, and asked his mom if he could talk to David Doubler, who’d been released a few months after they’d been kidnapped. He still remembered the shock and pity on his mother’s face.

“David is still gone, Chris. No one but you has come home.”

He’d nearly blurted out that he’d seen the other children released one by one. But he bit his tongue in time. If he admitted he’d seen them released, he’d have to admit he remembered where they’d been held and describe who had held them.

He kept his mouth shut.

But the minute he had the ability to search the Internet when he was older, he looked for all of them. And found nothing. Except families who still waited and grieved for their children.

How many nights had the belief that his friends had been released helped him stay sane in that bunker? He’d hated the children who were released, yet he was overjoyed for them at the same time.

He would never study his son’s face on a missing-child poster.

Now he knew where all the children were. They’d been buried in the dirt for two decades while their families waited for their return. At least the families finally had their answers. At least now the families could give up hope that their children were still alive and move on. Living with the unanswered questions was the worst. He’d wanted to tell the families he believed the children were dead, but he had no proof. He didn’t know what the Ghostman had done with them. And he had to continue his charade of memory loss.

His heart clenched at the thought of Daniel’s family. Their son hadn’t returned home. His body wasn’t found with the other children.

What was that lack of knowledge doing to his parents?

Their wounds had been freshly reopened. No doubt, Daniel’s parents had learned to cope without their son for so long. But while all the other parents had answers, they still suffered from the unknown.

Should he tell them what had really happened to Daniel? How they’d escaped from the Ghostman together? For nearly two decades, he’d wanted to tell the senator and his wife what had happened to their son. But he’d had to keep his mouth shut. If he’d told, there would be blood spilled. Innocent blood and guilty blood. He didn’t give a damn about the guilty blood, but he would do his best to protect the innocent. That meant being silent.

It’d been an enormous burden to bear.

The quiet highway stretched out before him. He’d passed very few cars at this hour. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon on his left side. The more miles he put on the road, the safer his son would be. He loosened his grip on the steering wheel. His fingers were cramping, he’d been holding on so tight. He forced a long exhale and tried to relax.

Just keep moving.

But his mind kept returning to the same question over and over.

How had the Ghostman found him in Demming?

The car jerked in response as a new realization shocked his system.

Jamie. He hadn’t given Jamie his new phone number.

He’d been in the process of setting up a new number for her to reach him when the news of the found children had started filling the Internet. He changed the number every few months, and he’d immediately changed it after Jamie had called to tell him the children’s bodies had been found.

Christ! Had she tried to call? What sort of panic would she be in if she couldn’t reach him? He steered the vehicle to the side of the highway and parked. He hit the button to call her house.

Shit! Voice mail. He couldn’t leave a message.

He tried her cell phone. Voice mail again.

He didn’t dare leave a message that anyone could hear. At least he’d had his number set up to show as a restricted number. Hopefully, that would let her know he’d at least tried to reach out to her. She knew he’d never leave a message.

What if she can’t get to her phone? What if the Ghostman already got to her? Is that how he found me?

Chris leaned his head against the wheel, heart pounding. Slow sweat started to drip down his temples. Could that have happened? Could the Ghostman have traced him through Jamie? He’d been so careful. But it made sense for someone to start with her if they wanted to find him. He’d always made certain Jamie knew nothing, and he’d hoped that was enough to keep her safe from anyone who decided to look for him. But what if someone wasn’t satisfied with her answers? What if they hadn’t believed her and decided to force answers?

He couldn’t move. How could he leave the US not knowing if she was okay?

He had to go back to Portland.

Bile churned in his gut, and a headache bloomed behind his temples.

He had to see for himself that she hadn’t been touched. A quick trip. He’d keep trying her phone numbers on the way. Then he’d head to Mexico.

He pulled a U-turn on the empty highway.