Tami Hoag - Deeper Than the Dead

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Thomas Crane is a normal ten-year-old boy, except for one thing – his father may be a serial killer. Peter Crane is a community leader, but his seeming generosity may be a clever cover for cultivating his own victims. Meredith Crane plays the role of the perfect wife, standing by her man, but is she standing in the way of justice? Duane Larkin has a history of violence that may determine his son's future and send him down a dark path. Even at the tender age of ten, Dennis Larkin is a troubled boy with twisted fantasies of cruel acts committed against the weak and vulnerable. Tony Mendez is a tenacious veteran homicide detective, determined to bring the killer down – no matter who he might be. And FBI Special Agent Anne Navarro is a woman in a man's world, a scientist in the midst of hard-nosed cops. But with her own quiet determination she will do her part to solve the crimes – and perhaps save a child in the process.

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Tommy cringed, waiting for her to grab his arm and haul him off. Why hadn’t he had sense enough to hide in the lavatory?

But she went right past him, her high heels clicking against the floor. She didn’t even look at him.

Open-mouthed, Tommy watched her go. He and Wendy exchanged a look.

“You lucked out,” she said.

He had, but they hadn’t, he thought as Detective Mendez came out of the hall and crooked a finger at them. He got up gingerly, trying not to suck in too big a breath.

“Hey, Tommy,” the detective said as they followed him down the hall. “I hear you can take a punch if you have to.”

What was he supposed to say to that? “I guess so.”

They went into the conference room. Principal Garnett was standing by the door, red-faced and breathing too hard.

“I’m going to leave this to you, Detective,” he said. “I have to call our attorneys.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Wendy whispered.

Wendy’s mom came over to her. She looked upset too.

“Have the office call me if you decide you want to come home,” she said.

Wendy nodded. Her mother kissed her cheek and started to leave the room.

“Mrs. Morgan?” Detective Mendez said. “Can I have a word with you in private before you go? We’ll be finished here in a few minutes, if you don’t mind waiting.”

Wendy’s mom looked unhappy, but she said, “I guess so. I’ll be out here.”

Miss Navarre came over then, turning as white as a sheet as she looked at Tommy.

“Tommy! Oh my God,” she said. “Should you be here?”

“I’m okay,” he said. “I went to the doctor.”

“You don’t look okay. You look like you should be home in bed.”

“Tommy’s tough,” Detective Mendez said. “He did what he had to do, and he took it like a man.”

Miss Navarre looked at him with narrowed eyes and said half under her breath, “Men are stupid.”

They all sat down at the table.

“Detective Mendez has a few questions for you both about what happened yesterday,” Miss Navarre said.

“Yeah,” Detective Mendez said. “Did you guys know Dennis had that finger?”

“No!” they said in unison.

“Wendy, you told me before that you saw Dennis touch the body in the park. Did you see him take that finger?”

“Gross!” Wendy exclaimed. “No! I would have told you that for sure!”

“How about you, Tommy?”

Tommy shook his aching head so hard he saw stars.

“Dennis didn’t say anything about it? Not at the park, not since?”

“We try not to talk to Dennis,” Wendy said primly.

“Because he’s a bully?”

“Because he’s gross AND a bully,” Wendy said. “He always smells bad, and he uses bad language, and he’s always carrying around something disgusting like a smashed frog or some part of a dead animal he found in the road. He’s weird and sick and gross,” she declared. “And stupid.”

She shot a quick, nervous look at Miss Navarre, like maybe she would get in trouble for that last part.

“You would say the same thing, Tommy?”

“Not out loud,” Tommy admitted. “Or I’ll end up like this again.”

“Neither of you saw him take the finger,” Detective Mendez said, but more to himself than to them. He sighed. “Does Dennis talk much about his father?”

“Yeah,” Wendy said. “Like, My dad’s a deputy and he can arrest you . My dad’s a deputy so he can drive as fast as he wants.” She rolled her eyes. “Gag me.”

“Has Dennis ever said anything about his father punishing him?” Miss Navarre asked.

They both shook their heads.

Detective Mendez looked at his watch.

“All right. Thanks, kids, Miss Navarre,” he said, getting up from the table. “I have to go.”

Miss Navarre said nothing, but watched him go out the door. Then she turned back to them.

“You guys have had some week,” she said. “Good thing it’s Friday. I just want to say how proud I am of both of you. You’ve gone through things this week that most adults would have a hard time handling, but you’ve handled it all really well. You’ve been very brave.

“Still, if there’s anything you’d like to talk to me about, I’m here for you.”

“Can the cops put Dennis in jail?” Wendy asked.

“Dennis is not going to jail,” Miss Navarre said. “Dennis is a very troubled boy. Hopefully, he’ll get some good counseling.”

“He’s not coming back to school?” Tommy asked.

“No. He’s been expelled for the rest of the semester.”

“Oh, great,” Tommy muttered.

“You didn’t want him to be expelled?” Miss Navarre asked, looking confused.

“He’ll blame Tommy,” Wendy said.

“He’ll blame Tommy because he got expelled for beating up Tommy?”

“He hates Tommy,” Wendy went on. “He thinks Tommy has everything. Tommy’s smart. Tommy lives in a big house. Tommy plays the piano. Tommy has cool parents. They have cool cars. Blah, blah, blah.”

“He’s jealous,” Miss Navarre said. “And everybody came to Tommy’s rescue while Dennis got suspended.”

“Right.”

“Tommy, how do you feel about that?”

Tommy shrugged. People did stick up for him. Nobody stuck up for Dennis. Teachers always liked him; they never liked Dennis. Tommy’s dad was cool. And maybe Dennis’s dad hit him. Maybe Dennis had a right to be jealous, but that didn’t give him the right to beat people up.

“Dennis doesn’t know anything,” he said.

Miss Navarre left it at that. She looked to Wendy. “That was pretty creepy yesterday with the finger. Did you have trouble sleeping last night?”

“A little,” Wendy admitted.

“How about you, Tommy? Are you sleeping at night?”

Adults were obsessed with sleeping, he had decided. Like, if everybody slept more the world would be a better place or something. His mother was crazy about him getting enough sleep. She gave him allergy medicine to make him sleep. Sometimes he swallowed it, sometimes he didn’t.

“I’m fine,” he said.

He wanted to get out of this chair, out of this room, and go be a normal kid. He didn’t want all this attention and all these questions. He wished his dad had picked him up from school Tuesday and he never would have fallen on that dead lady. But his dad played golf on Tuesday afternoons, and his mother was busy.

“Okay,” Miss Navarre said. “Wendy, why don’t you go back to class? I have a couple of things to talk to Tommy about.”

Tommy felt like a big rock dropped into his stomach. Him alone in a room with Miss Navarre. Oh, brother.

Wendy left. Tommy’s eyes went everywhere but to Miss Navarre.

“Tommy, look at me and tell me the truth now. You feel well enough to be in school?”

He looked straight at her and tried not to blink. “Yes, ma’am.”

“No running around at lunch and no gym class today. And if you don’t feel well, you tell me right away.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Your mom is really upset about what happened.”

“I know,” Tommy said. “She was yelling last night. She was yelling this morning. Sometimes I think her eyes are gonna pop out of her head when she yells like that.”

“Does she do that a lot at home?”

Tommy shrugged. “It depends.”

“Does she yell at you like that?”

He shrugged again and looked down. “Sometimes. When I do something wrong, or mess up the schedule.”

He thought his mom was really mad at him this week on account of him finding that body, and him getting beat up, and her having to change her schedule to come to school where she always felt like she had to scream at people.

“I wish none of it ever happened,” he said, and to his horror, he felt like he might cry.

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