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understood?”
    Adam stifled the desire to lash back in anger and simply nodded his agreement to her terms.
    Liz started to walk away and then turned. “By the way, if you are moving into the house with the boy, then be prepared, Freud, because I am, too.”
    * * *
    He turned off his headlights, eased into a parking spot across the street from the hospital and cut the engine. He glanced at his wristwatch in the glow from the streetlamp. Ten minutes past midnight. He looked up and down the deserted street. No one around. He was safe for the moment.
    He shouldn’t be here. He knew that. But he couldn’t stay away.
    He stared into the darkness and wondered which lit window in the multifloored hospital belonged to the boy.
    How could this happen? How could there have been a child in the house and he hadn’t known? He hadn’t seen any toys. There’d been a room filled with odd things like a funny-looking hammock swing hanging from the ceiling, some mats on the floor and a computer in the corner. He’d thought it was some kind of weird exercise room. It never dawned on him that there might be a kid in the house.
    Passing headlights illuminated the inside of his vehicle. He ducked down and his heart surged with a rush of adrenaline. The risk he might get caught was like a natural high. Who needed drugs?
    He did. Too often and too many.
    He cursed himself for his stupidity. He shouldn’t be in this situation. He should have taken care of everything at once.
    Why hadn’t he seen the kid?
    He slammed his hand on the steering wheel.
    Then a glimmer of hope filled his mind. If he hadn’t seen the kid, maybe the kid hadn’t seen him, either.
    It was all over the news that there was something wrong with the kid. He had problems talking or something. So he probably couldn’t tell anyone about him, anyway.
    But could he afford to take the chance?
    No.
    He had no choice. He had to find out what that boy had seen before the boy had a chance to tell anyone else.

THREE
    “Y ou can stare at them photos till the cows come home and you’re not gonna see anything you ain’t seen before.”
    Liz startled at the sound of Tom Miller’s voice but tried not to show it as she turned to face her deputy. She’d been standing in front of the white erase board, examining every inch of the crime scene photos.
    “There has to be something here,” Liz said. “Something that can steer our investigation in the right direction. What are we missing?”
    “Wish I knew. Those pictures are making me plumb cross-eyed.” Deputy Miller handed her a foam cup filled to the rim. The rich, robust aroma, unlike the mudlike brew they normally had available, woke up her senses. When he passed her a Boston cream doughnut, too, she almost drooled.
    “You know me too well, Tom.” She smiled, bit into the doughnut and licked the oozing, sweet cream off her lower lip. “This is just what I needed,” she mumbled with her mouth full.
    “There’s a couple dozen more on the table in the break room. And a decent pot of coffee for a change. Thought the men could use the boost before our meeting this morning.”
    He stood beside her and stared at the board. “I couldn’t sleep last night so I came in early. I stared at the board for hours just like you been doing. Not one of them pictures talked to me. Leastwise, nothing I wanted to hear.”
    He shook his head and raised his hat brim then let it settle back down. “Thank God your daddy isn’t alive. It would break his heart to see a family destroyed like this in his town.” He glanced at her and a red flush crept up his neck. “No offense, Sheriff. I’m not sayin’ that you’re not just as torn up about all this.”
    “I understand, Tom. I miss him, too.” Liz placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll get this guy.”
    Voices sounded behind them as the investigation team filed into the briefing room and took their seats around the conference table. Liz glanced at their