The tape crackled. The child giggled faintly. Then the woman asked, very softly, “Should we tell him where?” A pause. “No,” the man said. “Not on the tape.” A second later, the recording dissolved into static and clicked off. Neither of them spoke for a moment.
Then Nate sat back. “Well.” Brian looked at the box on the table, then at the muddy child’s shoe near the sink. “They hid something in this house,” he said. Nate nodded once. “Sounds like it.” Brian picked up one of the photographs and looked at the little boy standing between the couple.