“Hopefully it will be pro forma,” Keller said. “You’ll sign some papers and they’ll release the bod—release your family. The consulate will help with the paperwork for their flight home.”

Matt nodded.

Keller handed him a folded copy of the Times. He glanced at the front page. The photo was a punch in the gut. It was a selfie of his family in front of a sign for the Cancún airport. They were hamming it up for the camera. Where the hell had the Times gotten the shot? He realized that his mom had probably posted it on Facebook, the place where she pretended that their family was doing just fine, thank you very much. Under the photo, a caption:

EVAN PINE (51), OLIVIA PINE (51), MARGARET PINE (17), THOMAS PINE (6).

Under the selfie were separate shots of Matt and Danny. The one of Matt was another Facebook grab of him last summer. Danny’s was his mug shot.

“I don’t want to read this.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Keller said. “But these local cops have been being difficult. If they need additional confirmation that it’s your family, the photo may help. It also may remind them that the world is watching how they handle the case.”

A distorted voice blared from the overhead speakers. It was hard to understand, but travelers started lining up to board.

“All right,” he said. “I’d better get going.”

“This will probably help.” Keller gave Matt his wallet and smartphone.

“Thanks.”

“You have no idea what a pain it was. The bouncer has a business on the side selling phones. There’s no money in your wallet.”

There never had been.

Matt looked at the face of the iPhone, cracked from the hundreds of times he’d dropped it. The phone was fully charged—thanks to Keller, no doubt. The device’s wallpaper was a photo of Jane, one she’d uploaded herself. She looked particularly regal in the shot.

“You find anything helpful on it?”

“We haven’t looked. We needed your password. And your permission.” Keller looked at him. “You mind?”

Matt thumbed the sensor, unlocking the device. He took a deep breath before checking his text messages. There were hundreds of them. Many from unfamiliar numbers, but dozens from friends. There were no new messages from his father. One text from his mother, saying they were getting on the plane and that she loved him. Something she did out of habit whenever she flew. The fatalistic precaution in case the plane went down.

But then he saw it. The unread text from Maggie.

Excerpt from

A Violent Nature

Season 1/Episode 4

“Holmes and Watson”

INT. PINE FAMILY HOME – HOME OFFICE