The Wrong Bones (Widow's Island #10)(12)

“Turn around,” Logan said.

The boy did, surprise in his eyes.

“We’re not going to arrest you at this time.” Tessa gestured for him to walk with them. They returned to his camp and helped him gather his belongings. Logan pulled a protein bar and a bottle of water from his pack. He offered them to the boy. “Do you think you can walk out of here?”

The boy accepted the food and water. “Yeah.”

Logan and Tessa flanked the boy—not that Logan was afraid he’d run off. The teen didn’t seem to have much energy left.

“What’s your name?” Logan asked.

“Chandler Dooley.” The boy stared at his feet as he walked.

“How old are you, Chandler?” Tessa handed him his backpack.

Chandler shrugged into the pack, and they headed for the trail. He sighed, his chest deflating. “Sixteen.”

In case Chandler was tempted to run again, Logan pushed the dirt bike. He considered waiting until they got to the station to begin questioning the kid, but the woods were relaxing. The sheriff’s station would be more official and intimidating.

“Want to tell us why you’re camping out?” he asked.

“I had a fight with my parents.” Chandler’s voice grew soft.

Logan waited. A hawk circled overhead, its cry piercing the quiet forest with the sharpness of a blade.

Chandler kept his eyes on the ground. “They split up a few years ago. My dad got a job on Bainbridge. He sells insurance. Things were a little better without him around.” He sighed. “He came back a few weeks ago. They got into it. He hit my mom. She hit him back. I tried to get between them.” His voice caught. He swiped a tear off his cheek. “And Mom took his side.” Disbelief and hurt filled his voice. “She said I was ungrateful.” He sniffed. His eyes took on a broken look. “She always takes him back. She says she loves him.”

The kid had defended his mother, and she’d turned on him. Logan suppressed a curse.

“What’s your address?” Tessa asked.

“Please don’t call my parents.” Fear widened the boy’s eyes. “I can’t go back there. I’ll never get away.”

“What are you afraid of, Chandler?” Logan asked.

Chandler stared at the ground.

“Does he hit you?” Tessa asked in a gentle voice.

Chandler didn’t respond for a few seconds. “When I was younger, he locked me in the shed for a week. He brought me bread and water so I would learn what prison was like. Told me that’s where disrespectful little brats end up. This time, he said he’d pull me from school and teach me at home. I wouldn’t leave the house again until I showed him the respect he deserves.” He paused, gulped air, and swallowed. “But it’s different this time. They’re toxic together. I can’t be there all the time. I need to get away. I can’t explain.”

Can’t? Or won’t?

Logan could sense the boy was holding something back. Something big. The fear of returning to his father was too great.

Tessa’s face was calm, but Logan could see the tension in her jaw. She was plenty mad. “Do you have any other relatives?”

Chandler nodded. “My brother lives in Seattle. I was going there as soon as the ferry is fixed. He sent me the money for a ticket and told me to hide it in case I needed it.”

“How old is your brother?” Logan asked.

“Twenty-five. He told me I could come anytime. Once he left home, he swore he’d never come back. I wanted to stay to help Mom, but now . . .” Chandler’s voice fell away. “She’d rather have him.” He spat out the last word with venom.

Logan wanted to hit something. How could people treat their own kids so badly? He wasn’t naive. He knew they did, but he would never understand.

“Have you called your brother?” Tessa asked.

Chandler shook his head. “A cell phone is a privilege I haven’t earned.” He was clearly parroting his father.

“What’s your dad’s name?” Logan glanced at the boy.

Bitterness creased Chandler’s face. “Simon.”

“And your address?” Tessa asked.

The boy gave it, albeit reluctantly.

“When did this fight happen?” Logan continued.

Chandler paused. “Last night.”

“What time?” Tessa pressed.

“I don’t remember exactly.” Chandler sounded suspicious. “Maybe ten or eleven. I lost track of the time. Why?”

“There was a trespasser in the cemetery. That wasn’t you, was it?” She turned to him, watching his face.

Chandler looked away. “Why would I go to the cemetery?”

Tessa just shrugged. Logan summoned a mental map. Chandler’s house wasn’t anywhere near the cemetery, but the kid had a dirt bike.

They hiked back to the vehicles. The late-afternoon sun heated the top of Logan’s head as he put the dirt bike in the back of the Range Rover and offered Chandler the passenger seat. Without discussion, he and Tessa both simultaneously decided not to put the boy in the back of her cruiser.

“Meet me at the station?” Tessa said.

“Will do. We’re going to stop and grab lunch for all of us on the way.” Logan waited for Chandler to close the door of the vehicle. He turned to Tessa and kept his voice low. “We’re not charging him with anything?”