Buried Alive (Buried #1)

How could Nancy afford plastic surgery? “Did Nancy have some kind of health insurance?”

“Before we met, she worked for the public school system cleaning for them and had pretty good bennies.”

The school’s insurance might have paid for the surgery. “Why did Nancy and you split?”

Whipley looked toward the ground. “We had a whopper of a fight a few months back. She came at me screaming and yelling. Thought I’d cheated on her.” He shuffled his feet. “I didn’t, I swear, but Nancy didn’t believe me. She ran off and I never saw her after that.”

If Nancy suffered from depression, other issues might have affected her. “Don’t leave town.”

Whipley took a step forward and clenched his fists. “You think I had something to do with Nancy’s death?”

“I’m just asking questions, that’s all.”

“Well, ask someone else.”

Hunter was losing his patience. “You have any ideas who might have wanted to hurt Nancy?”

“No, but her mom might know.”

“This mom have an address?”

“Yeah.” Whipley told Hunter where the woman lived before stomping off.

Wild goose chases were not his thing, especially since all he could think of was getting back to Kerry. He was tired and hungry. Tomorrow would be soon enough to follow this lead.

As he piled into the cruiser, his cell rang. It was Phil. “How’s Gina?” Hunter asked before Phil got a word in.

“Funny. I’ve been trying to reach you.”

“You got me now. What’s up?”

“Gina and I have been following up on the murder of Willie Wyble. We spoke to some guy whose bed is under the Interstate with Willie. Nash said Willie was picked up by the Medical Examiner’s van during one of late night digging jobs.”

Hunter’s blood ran cold.

He had to rush back to the cabin. Pronto.



“Hey, Kerry,” Hunter shouted, as he ran up to the cabin. He raced into the living room, expecting to see her hunched over the table working on the infant’s face.

Only she wasn’t there. The beginnings of her reconstruction were strewn all over the place, but no Kerry, and a cold dread clogged his muscles.

“Kerry?” he croaked.

After talking with Phil, his imagination had gotten the best of him. He’d even conjured up the idea that someone in the ME’s office had murdered these woman, and that Kerry could be next.

He listened for a moment, thinking she might be in the shower, but the house remained deathly still, except for his quick breaths. He checked all three bedrooms, but came up empty. Where the hell was she?

Acid attacked his gut. There had to be a good explanation why she’d seemingly disappeared.

His fogged mind wasn’t thinking straight. She probably needed a respite from the back-breaking work of clay reconstruction and decided to sit out by the dock. He sped outside, his adrenaline slowing down.

“Kerry?”

Leaves rustled and a few birds chirped. He sprinted to the lake, prepared to see her sunbathing on the wooden dock, but the place was empty. Cade’s dingy still bobbed on the water, tied neatly to the dock.

She didn’t have a car, so where could she have gone? The only place left was the barn where Cade kept his refurbished cars, though he saw no reason for her to be exploring.

Shit. If she’d borrowed one of Cades’ classics and gone somewhere, he’d... Hunter refused to think of the punishment he’d dole out when he got his hands on her delicious body. Kerry had a stubborn streak, and she didn’t obey orders very well—if at all. A bad combination for sure.

As he pulled open the heavy barn door, it squeaked. He flipped on the overhead lamp and counted the vehicles. Damn. One was missing. Cade often bragged about his six restored cars. Now there were five.

Hunter pulled out his cell and called her, preparing his tongue lashing when she answered. He paced as the phone continued to ring. “Pick up, dammit.”

What had she been thinking leaving the cabin? Her answering machine clicked on. “Kerry, call me.”

From his harsh tone, he knew he didn’t have to tell her she needed to call right away. Hunter strode back in the house trying to come up with a plausible explanation.

Her cell phone sat on the coffee table. Blast it. His mind raced. Kerry never left without her phone. She’d mentioned she needed to be available twenty-four seven in case the M.E.’s office needed her. Maybe John Ahern had called her and she’d rushed out, forgetting to take her cell.

That’s what must have happened. He dialed the main office. Hunter did a loop around the dining room table while he waited for the Medical Examiners’ front desk to answer. Another voice mail. Crap. It was Saturday, so it made sense one would be manning the office phones.

Hunter had one last hope before he called in the troops. John Ahern might know where she was. Thank goodness he’d programmed John’s number from the last case they’d worked on. The assistant M.E. answered on the first ring.

“It’s Hunter Markum. Do you know where Kerry is?” He didn’t have time for pleasantries.

John waited a beat before answering. “No. We didn’t have any need of her today. Why? I thought you were keeping her in some kind of safe house.”

“I was, but she’s missing.”





21





“How do you know the baby isn’t with Brad’s mom or in daycare?” Kerry asked her sister. She turned down the car AC as they idled in front of Susan’s ex-boyfriend’s house.

“I don’t, but it’s a Saturday. Teresa should be home, playing outside, having fun.” Kerry’s sister pushed open the car door. “I’m tired of waiting. I’m going to confront the bastard.”

Kerry grabbed Susan’s arm. “Are you crazy? Stop and think. Suppose your child is fine. Do you want him to know you’re stalking him? Worse case scenario, he could come after you or take out his anger on Teresa.”

Susan leaned back into the seat and turned toward her. “I’m not stalking him. I have to find out about my daughter—the daughter he stole from me.”

“Then let the police handle it. You said you’d sworn out a complaint.”

“Two years ago. I don’t think the police care anymore.”

“Hunter would care.”

Her lips pursed. “Hunter this, Hunter that. You make him sound like some goddamn saint.”

Kerry flinched at Susan’s bitter attack, but she understood where her sister was coming from. Hunter didn’t abuse women like Brad had.

“How do you think Brad would react if he knew you’ve learned where he lives?”

Her lips were pressed together so tight her chin trembled. Kerry had never seen her sister so distraught. “He’d probably hit me.”

“Or worse. You need to stay away from him. I don’t mind us watching for a little while longer, but there can’t be any interaction without the police being here.”

“You are such a goodie-two-shoes.” She huffed. “Always have been.”

Kerry needed to refocus her sister’s thoughts. “How old is Teresa now?” Kerry knew to the day how old her child would have been had she’d lived.

“Two years, seven months and three days.”

Poor Susan. The hole in her heart must be bigger than a cavern. “Two years is a long time to wait for justice, but we need to be patient.”

A blue sedan pulled into the driveway. Susan straightened and grabbed Kerry’s hand. “Do you think Teresa’s inside the car?”

A tall, leggy blond slipped out of the driver’s seat. When the woman pulled open the rear door her sister sucked in a large breath, and then grimaced. The lady stood, holding a package in her arms—not a child. Susan closed her eyes, and a tear trickled down her face.

“I’m really sorry, Susan, but we don’t know Teresa’s not inside the house.”

She sniffled. “Maybe.” She turned to Kerry. “Do you think your knight in shining armor can really help?”

“I bet he’ll try.”



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