Page 144 of Bonded in Death

But who lived close enough to walk home. Alone.

Ten minutes, fifteen. He watched schoolchildren hurry by, but in twos or threes, or even bigger groups.

Fifteen minutes, twenty. And the impatience began crawling through him like hissing snakes.

The next pair that walked by. The very next, he promised himself. He’d grab the smallest of the two. And the other?

He had his knife.

Then, positioned in the wet gloom at the side of the building, he saw his target.

Alone, splashing along in puddles, wearing a bright yellow mac. A red backpack, and some sort of case—musical instrument—in his hand.

Leaning heavily on the cane he’d brought as a prop, Potter stepped into view.

“Young man? Could you help me?”

Potter put on his most harmless smile as the boy glanced over.

“Oh! There she is now!”

As the boy turned his head to look where Potter pointed, Potter jabbed the pressure syringe on the side of his neck.

With barely a sound, the boy went limp.

Potter simply took his weight, kicked the case into the alley. He rolled the unconscious boy into the trunk, slammed it shut.

Pleased, flushed with success, he began the drive back uptown. He calculated the boy would be out at least two hours, giving him plenty of time to do what he needed to do.

Twenty minutes later, as Potter crept along in crosstown traffic, Devin McReedy’s mother, more annoyed than concerned, began calling Devin’s friends.

She’d told him to come straight home after orchestra practice, but sometimes…

Ten minutes later, concern edged out annoyance.

She paced, window to window, sure she’d see her oldest coming down the sidewalk any minute.

Five minutes later, she looked back at her youngest, cuddled up on the sofa watching an animated vid on-screen. She and her husband had taken turns with him through the night. A night they’d all spent primarily in the bathroom as the poor kid suffered with the stupid stomach bug going around.

She walked over to lay a hand on his forehead. Cool.

“I feel better,” Silas told her, and gave her the smile she loved. “I’m hungry.”

An excellent sign, she thought. Devin had had the same bug a couple of days before. Twenty-four-hour deal.

“You look lots better. I have to run out, just two minutes. And when I come back, I’ll fix you a snack.”

“Peanut butter cheesies?”

“Peanut butter cheesies. You stay right here. Don’t answer the door.”

“Mom! I know!”

“I know you know. Two minutes.”

She grabbed an umbrella, hurried out.

To offset the grinding worry, she told herself she was giving Devin the what-for when she found him. Probably taking a swing or a slide in the park in the damn rain.

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