Bones by Jonathan Kellerman Read Free Book Online

science.”
    Chance’s shoulders bunched. His mother had gnawed her lip scarlet.
    His father said, “I think it’s obvious math isn’t his strong suit, that’s how we ended up in this mess in the first place. The
indignity
of an algebra test that required
minimum
effort to pass.”
    Chance chewed
his
lip. More genetics? Or would living with Steve Brandt drive anyone to it?
    Brandt loosened his tie. “We’re still trying to figure out if he
has
a strong suit.”
    His wife gasped.
    “Get real, Suze. If he hadn’t cheated in the first place, we’d never be talking to the cops.” To us: “Maybe as long as you’re here we should set up some tough love for my son. One of those programs you put youthful offenders into? Working at the morgue, getting in touch with reality?”
    Susan Brandt got up and hurried out on elegant, bronze legs. Chance’s eyes were fixed on his father’s florid face.
    Brandt said, “You
bet
I’m pissed, kiddo. Work’s piling up and I have to come home in the middle of the day for
this.
And you’re playing
tennis
?”
    “Mom said I should get some exer—”
    Brandt waved the boy silent. To Milo: “Do you still run those morgue tours?”
    “I’m not sure, sir. From what I recall they were for juvenile drunk drivers and such.”
    “So, once again, he skates completely.”
    Chance’s lips moved.
    “What did you just say?” his father demanded.
    Silence.
    Milo said, “Mr. Brandt, we understand that you’re frustrated with whatever acting-out Chance has done in the past. But from our perspective, he’s being cooperative. If all he did was talk about what he perceived to be a gag call, there’s nothing to ‘skate’ on. If he’s somehow involved in this homicide, a tour of the morgue won’t cut it.”
    Some of the color left Steve Brandt’s face. “Of
course
he’s not involved. I’m just trying to prevent any more… complications.”
    Chance said, “I’m complications?”
    His father smirked. “Oh, you don’t want me to answer that.”
    The boy’s turn to flush. “Do your thing, dude — hook me up to one of those fucking lie detectors—”
    “Shut your stupid, foul mouth and don’t use that snotty, stupid tone—”
    Chance shot to his feet, fists balled. “Don’t call me that! Don’t fucking
call
me that!”
    Steve Brandt’s hands slapped brocade. He panted.
    Chance’s respiration rate raced ahead of his father’s.
    Milo stepped between them. “Everyone calm down right
now.
Chance, sit down — over there, where your mom was. Mr. Brandt, let us do our job.”
    “I wasn’t aware I was doing anything but—”
    “This is a homicide case, sir — lots of long days for us. We need to make sure that after we leave we won’t be called back on a domestic violence complaint.”
    “Ridiculous — have I ever hit you, Chance?
Ever?
”
    No answer.
    “
Have
I?”
    Chance smiled. Shrugged.
    His father cursed. “Serpent’s tooth.”
    Chance was still on his feet. Milo said,
“Sit.”
The boy obeyed.
    “Son, I want a quick answer to this: How soon after the call did Mr. Duboff appear?”
    “Right after. Seconds.”
    That fit Duboff’s story. Either he’d dumped Selena Bass himself or the killer had watched Duboff clear out before venturing forward.
    Or the killer had gotten lucky and just missed Duboff.
    Either way, the murder had been called in soon after the dump.
    Someone wanting Selena Bass found. And identified quickly.
    Burying three other bodies that he’d concealed, but growing confident and progressing to boasting?
    Claiming the marsh as his turf. Duboff or someone like him?
    Moe Reed said, “Who’d you tell about the hissing call?”
    “Just… Sarabeth — who’d she rat me out to?”
    “What’s Sarabeth’s last name?”
    Steve Brandt said, “Oster. As in malls and shopping centers.” When none of us responded: “They’re big-time, live in Brentwood Park. Sarabeth’s their only child. She comes across sweet and innocent but she’s the