Best-Kept Secrets. Dani Sinclair

      Prologue

      The workman’s heavy-booted foot dislodged something, causing it to roll across the ground and bounce off the side wall. The flashlight followed its course, spotlighting the dirt-encrusted skull.

      “Holy sh—”

      “Is that what I think it is?”

      “Oh, man, oh, man, oh—”

      “Come on,” Will said, reaching for the ladder, not waiting to see if Buddy followed on his heels. The burly foreman stepped back as the two men scrambled over the lip of the hole and into the brilliant September sunshine.

      “What the hell are you doing?” Zeke demanded.

      Will pointed, angry that his hand was shaking. “We got us some bodies down there.”

      “In the sinkhole?”

      “That ain’t no sinkhole,” Will told him. “There’s some kinda room down there.”

      “What?”

      “Yeah.” Will hated that he was still shaking. “Buddy, you’d better go tell the boss.”

      Zeke stared at them. “Never mind the boss, Buddy, go get the police.”

      Buddy’s eyes were wide, his skin strangely pale beneath his dark bronze tan. He skirted the pile of debris from the torn-up corner of the parking lot, headed around the dump truck with its heavy load of gravel and started running across the tarmac in spite of it being ninety-eight degrees in the shade. The other two men watched him head for the restaurant before turning to peer back down into the hole.

      “You sure about this?” Zeke asked again.

      “I know a skull when I see one,” Will growled. “Even a tiny one like that.”

      “Tiny?”

      Will sized it in the air with his hands. “There’s another one. Bigger. You wanna go look?”

      “Hell, no.” He tipped back his hard hat and scratched at his thinning hair. “It could be an animal,” he said hopefully.

      Will didn’t dignify that with an answer.

      “You just better be sure, is all,” Zeke said.

      “I’m sure.”

      The two men resumed staring into the deep hole.

      “What’s going on here?”

      They whirled, Zeke nearly falling into the opening at the sound of their current employer’s deep voice. Jake Collins, owner of the restaurant whose parking lot they’d been hired to fix, stood staring at them, his dark eyes watching intently. He was rumored to be a gambler with Mafia connections. No one seemed to know if it was true or not, and no one had the guts to ask him. But he sure looked the part.

      Everyone in Fools Point was a little afraid of Jake Collins.

      “Buddy says you found two bodies,” Jake said quietly.

      The foreman nodded his balding head. “It’s true, Mr. Collins. Down there. Reason the parking lot collapsed is someone built it over an old root cellar or something. Bodies are at the bottom.”

      “Whose bodies?”

      Zeke looked at Will who swallowed before shaking his head. He hoped the only thing shaking was his head beneath that penetrating gaze.

      “One of ’em’s a baby,” Will told him.

      “A baby?” Jake’s voice deepened a full octave.

      “Yes, sir. Real tiny, the bones are.”

      “Bones?”

      “Yeah. They’ve been down there an awful long time.”

      Jake Collins didn’t say another word. He simply grabbed the ladder, swung his neatly pressed trouser leg over the edge of the hole, and disappeared from view.

      “He’s gonna get them fancy duds all dirty down there,” the foreman muttered.

      “Yeah,” Will agreed.

      Minutes later Jake reappeared. His face, as always, was an impenetrable mask. “Don’t move anything. Don’t touch anything. Don’t let anyone except Chief Hepplewhite or Officer Garvey down there.” He started to walk away.

      “Yes, sir. Uh, Mr. Collins, what are

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