Read The Buried (The Apostles) for Free Online Page A

first mate. And by the time they sailed past Bali, Hatch knew the secret to the perfect pan-seared grouper. Keep scales on one side. Baste with butter twice.
    That sail and the sailor behind it had saved his life. Unfortunately, Great Aunt Jane Piper was docked in the Sydney Harbor, which left him holding the compass for Alex. God help them all.
    Hatch cleared his throat. “Well?” He held his breath, surprised at how much he wanted the answer to that question.
    Alex studied a scab on his elbow. “What would you do? Being FBI and all?”
    The tightness stretched across Hatch’s throat eased. Alex had made some piss-poor choices, but he wasn’t dumb. “First I’d tell that deputy I made a bad choice and apologize for threatening to break a chair leg over his skull. Then I’d hand over the names of my two buddies. Then, pal, I’d get down on my knees and pray there’s an organization in town that needs a whole hell of a lot of community service this summer.”
    The kid picked at the scab, and a dot of blood trickled down his elbow. Hatch handed him the blue scarf. Alex’s lip curled, contorting his face. Hatch lifted both hands. Okay. He was backing off.
    A minute ticked by. Another.
    Time to close the deal. Hatch stuffed the scarf in his pocket.
    “Fine.” Alex swiped the blood on his jeans and looked Hatch in the eye. “I’ll do it.”
    Hatch shot prayers of thanks to God, the boy’s Granny, and anyone else who’d been guiding his son these past thirteen years. Alex was in choppy waters and rudderless, but he wasn’t completely lost. Not yet.
    “Hey, that magic trick with the scarf.” Alex spat the words. “I know how you did it. It’s fucking stupid.”
    *  *  *
    Grace’s construction crew had left, replaced by members of the county’s forensic unit who’d roped off a section of the construction site with crime scene tape and colored flags. With tiny shovels and feathery brushes, they sifted through sandy soil, unearthing bones.
    Old bones , Grace assured herself as she paced along the crime scene tape. Denuded of all flesh and gray in color, these bones could not belong to Lia Grant, who was still missing. She’d wanted to head into the swamp at sunup to continue the hunt for the girl, but the detective investigating the grave demanded she stay put until he had a chance to question her about the bones.
    Not bones, but a human being. The person cradled in the earth where her dream home would be built had once been a living, breathing human being. Until now. Until her. Her feet stilled, sinking into the damp earth. In the courtroom she was no stranger to uncovering old skeletons rattling in defendants’ pasts, but there was something disturbing about putting down roots over someone’s grave.
    A siren wailed and lights flashed as Lieutenant Lang pulled up to the excavation site. She hopped out of the SUV and jogged to Grace’s side. “Any ties to Lia Grant?”
    Grace shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of. Still no news on Lia?”
    The lieutenant wore wrinkles, swamp mud, and grim lines around her mouth. “Not a damn thing. I stopped by to see if this buried body might shed light on the one I’m looking for.” Lieutenant Lang ducked under the crime scene tape. “Pretty desperate, huh?”
    Because Lia Grant may be running out of air. Grace followed the lieutenant. “With the sun up, we can get more searches on the Point.”
    “Absolutely.” Lieutenant Lang picked her way through the camellia bushes.
    “And we can get some deputies over to the medical center where Lia’s car was found.”
    “That’s the plan, but first, the bones.” The lieutenant stopped at the depression and nodded at the tech from the forensics team. “What do you have?”
    The man in the pit dusted the sand from his hands. “Given cranial development and femur length, definitely an adult. Pelvic tilt and girth suggest a female.”
    Like Lia. Grace knotted her fingers behind her back.
    “How long has she