"Ten." Young's lips curled. "But he nearly made an exception with Shane. Shane was an attractive child and he'd had it before. Tyler could always tell."

"He'd been abused by his aunt's husband," Reed said.

"Like I said, Tyler could always tell. He teased Andrew that he'd make an exception for Shane, just to see Andrew try to fight back. Then he'd take Andrew. But Tyler had standards and methods. He'd hurt the older ones, then count to the younger ones. He'd count from one up to their age, then smack his lips and say 'when I get to ten, you'll be mine.' Shane was nine. Tyler would count to nine, then taunt Andrew that soon Shane would be ten. 'Count to ten, Andrew,' he'd say. And laugh."

"That connects a lot of dots," Mia said. "What happened when Shane turned ten?"

"Andrew was desperate. He'd tried to run away with Shane at least a dozen times, but the police always brought them back. He begged my mother to do something, but she told him not to make up stories. He hated her. I know Andrew had tried to set a few fires in the basement. Newspapers in the trash can kind of fires. He wanted to get caught. He wanted somebody from social services to come and take them away before Shane turned ten. Anyplace would have been better than our house."

"What did you do?" Reed asked.

Young's laugh was mirthless. "Nothing. I've lived with that for years. Not just with Andrew and Shane, but all the others. So many others. But you're interested in Shane."

"For now," Mia said. "We'll sort through the others later. Tell us about Shane's tenth birthday. That was the day of the fire. The day Shane died."

He let out a breath. "The day Shane turned ten, Tyler… did his thing. First thing that morning. Shane was…" He shuddered. "The look on that boy's face-I can still see it. He was just a kid. He was bleeding. But Tyler cleaned him up and our mother sent him to school. That afternoon, Andrew left school early. I saw him go." He lifted a shoulder. "Andrew was thorough. The house burned very well. But he didn't know Shane had left school early, too. Later the nurse said Shane had a stomachache. Later people said a lot of things. Nobody knew anything."

"He set the fire in the trash can," Reed said quietly and Tim Young nodded.

"In a trash can in the living room, then he ran away. He came back a little later, pretended to be shocked. He knew I knew. He thought I'd tell, but I stayed quiet about that like I did everything else. Then the firefighters found Shane. They carried him out, looking like a rag doll. He was dead. Andrew went numb, into shock. Catatonic even.

"The social workers came then. Took him away. A few cops asked me questions and I lied. I said he'd been at school. He couldn't have done it. The autopsy showed Shane had been sodomized. But nobody said anything. And eventually, life went on. We rebuilt the house. I graduated high school and left town and never looked back."

"And never heard from Andrew?" Mia asked, kindly now.

"No. Although barely a day goes by that I don't think about him or one of the others."

"Andrew always saves the pets," Reed commented. "Do you know why?"

"Yes. We had a dog." His smile was sad. "Sweet old mutt. After Tyler was done with Andrew, Andrew would hide in the barn. A few times I found him, curled up against that old mutt. But he never cried. He just petted that old dog till it was a wonder he still had any coat. The day of the fire that old dog was in Shane's room. He died, too."

"He never told the sheriff any of the times he was caught running?" Spinnelli asked.

Tim's smile turned sardonic. "You mean Sheriff Young, my uncle?"

Spinnelli looked grim. "I see."

"I'm curious, Tim," Mia said. "You said you lied and gave Andrew an alibi that day, but didn't his teachers or some of the other kids notice he was missing?"

"Funny thing about that," Tim drawled, his tone self-mocking. "See, Tyler was a bully at school, too. All the kids knew it. The teachers did, too. Andrew's teacher at the end of that school day would have been Miss Parker. She was young and pretty and terrified of Tyler. Nobody 'missed' Andrew that day." He sighed. "Maybe if we had, none of this would have happened."

"I don't think you can know what would have happened, Tim," Reed said quietly.

"Perhaps not. I've spent the years since I left home time trying to make up for what I did. And what 1 didn't do. Now I have to face my part in this. I can't be free until I've made some kind of restitution. Legally and morally. I'll do whatever you need me to do."

Sunday, December 3, 8:35 p.m.

Mitchell thought she was smart. I am smarter. He approached Penny Hill's car, then reached in the backseat for her briefcase. He was glad now he'd left it behind. If he'd buried it in the backyard, Mitchell would have it by now.

Bitch cop, thought she could fool him. He'd found Milicent Craven's home address with ease. He'd called DCFS, was transferred to her voicemail. It was luck that he'd called again when the operator had been busy with another call.

Well, not luck. That was instinct. He'd known it sounded too good to be true. When the operator was busy, calls were sent to the automated line. Please enter the first few letters of the person's last name. So he had. Three times. And all three times got the same answer. No names match the letters you have entered. Please try again.

So Milicent Craven was suspicious. Probably a fraud. But in the event he was wrong, he'd look at Penny Hill's belongings. She'd had a retirement party the night he'd killed her. There were presents and cards. If Milicent Craven existed, maybe she had signed one them. Maybe she'd be listed in Hill's Day-Timer. He needed to know.

He sat on the seat and started sorting through the contents of her briefcase. It was stuffed full of papers and files, but one labeled folder stood out. shane kates.

After a moment his heart started beating again. He opened the folder and stared at the photo inside. He hadn't looked at his brother's face in nine years. He'd been such a beautiful little boy. Too beautiful. Too much of a temptation for perverts like his aunt's boyfriend or Tyler Young. They'd killed him. Every last one of them had killed Shane.

And they were all dead. Penny Hill was no innocent. She had Shane's file. She'd known where he was all along. All those months of hell in the Young's house.

Mitchell had lied. There was no Milicent Craven. She'd lied to lure him into the open. She was as conniving as the rest of the women. She should suffer for that.

She should die for that, just like Penny and Brooke and Laura and his aunt.

They'd be watching Milicent Craven's house. The minute he went in. he would have been dead. So he wouldn't go in. And he'd master their game. His original plan would stand.

He'd draw Mitchell to him. And then he'd kill her. He'd see her burn.

First he'd get a good night's sleep. She'd wait for him outside Craven's house all night long. She'll be tired tomorrow and I'll be fresh as a spring daisy.

Monday, December 4, 12:45 a.m.

"Wake up, Reed." Mia poked him in the darkness of the car. They were staked out, watching for Kates. Anita Brubaker was inside the house, armed to the teeth while their unmarked cars watched from all directions. If Kates approached, they'd know.

"I'm not asleep," Reed muttered, turning from the window. "Wish I were, but I'm not."

"Poor baby. You worked hard this afternoon, cleaning your house."

He narrowed his eyes. "You said you'd come help."

"I did… just later." As they were calling it quits for the day. "I went to see Jeremy."

His eyes softened. "You're getting attached to the kid."