Buried Alive (Buried #1)

When Kerry entered into the cabin’s driveway, Hunter’s truck sat parked in front. Damn. He was going to be pissed she’d left without telling him.

Too bad. Susan had needed her. If she’d called Hunter and told him her plan to scout out Brad’s house for her sister’s daughter, he would have told her to stay put. Then where would Susan have been? As it was, her sister had been so upset, she’d said little on the way back.

“Come on,” Kerry said, as she pushed open the car door. “Let’s see what Hunter can do.”

Dread filled her just thinking about his reaction.

Susan eased out and looked around. “This is quite romantic. The trees add a lot of shade.”

What an odd observation. The trees were the least of Kerry’s worry and romance was not on her mind—absolutely not on her mind. Maybe this was Susan’s way of avoiding her demons.

The front door burst open and Hunter stood in the doorway with his gun dangling by his side. Crap. Eyes narrowed and every muscle taut, Kerry steeled herself for a fight.

Hunter strode toward her and shoved the gun in his shoulder holster. “Where the hell have you been?” His voice boomed louder than a megaphone.

Before she could answer, he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tight. “You scared the crap out of me.” His whisper was so close to her ear, his lips brushed her skin.

For a brief moment, Kerry let herself relax against his strong chest, inhaling his musky scent. God, did she need his hug or what.

Hunter leaned back and lifted Kerry’s chin. Their lips nearly touched. Time stood still. All fear and anxiety drifted to the back of her mind, and she was convinced Hunter cared about her as a person, and didn’t think of her as some client who was in trouble.

“Ahem,” Susan said. “Hi, I’m Kerry’s sister, Susan.” She stuck her hand out.

As if they’d been caught necking by their parents, she and Hunter sprang apart. A slow heat drifted up her face. “Yes, this is my sister.” Typical Susan—the queen of bad timing.

Hunter and Susan shook hands. “Let’s move out of the heat.” His gaze swung from the ground to Kerry. “And you, Dr. Herlihy, will tell me why you disobeyed an order.”

“Disobeyed an order? I don’t do orders. Suggestions, maybe, but only if I believe in them.”

His comforting stance disappeared as he stomped back into the house. Kerry and Susan trailed behind. No need to rush to the firing squad.

“Seems like a nice guy,” Susan whispered, as they walked along the slate path to the house. A hint of a smile crossed her lips. “And hot.”

“He is—nice that is.” She wasn’t going to confess she found Hunter physically appealing. “And don’t act so smug. You need him to help find your daughter.”

At Teresa’s reference, Susan’s smile disappeared. “You’re right. I do need his help.”

When they entered the cabin, Hunter had already dragged a dining room chair into the living room. His shoulders remained rigid.

He swept a hand toward the sofa, keeping his gaze on Kerry. “Please sit.”

She and Susan sat next to each other on the sofa. “Let me explain,” Kerry began.

“Please do.” While he wasn’t yelling, the tension in his voice reminded her of her father when he became angry, which wasn’t a good thing.

Susan placed a hand on Kerry’s thigh. “It’s my fault. I needed Kerry’s help.”

Kerry’s sister told Hunter about how Brad had stolen their baby two years ago and how she’d spent most of the child’s life trying to find him and her daughter. Now she had.

Hunter’s brows pinched. “How did you locate him this time?”

Had he forgiven her for running out? Kerry could only hope.

“I hired a skip tracer a few months ago, but he came up empty–handed. Brad had disappeared. I was running out of money just as my ex made a mistake, one that caused a red flag on Tony Tesner’s computer. You see, Brad’s a good tennis player. Always has been. He had the misfortune of winning a tournament, and his name and hometown were plastered in several papers. Tony saw the win, found his address and called me.”

“Okay,” Hunter said, “but why did you need Kerry?”

“For support.”

“Didn’t Kerry tell you about the person stalking her?” Hunter shot back. Susan nodded. “How can you two be sure he didn’t follow you here?”

A burning sensation stabbed Kerry in the belly. “I never thought about anyone following us.” What had she done? Hunter had been so careful. Now, she’d screwed up. “I’m sorry.”

Hunter stood. “We should probably move. I’ll make a few phone calls, but I might not be able to find another home for a while. Susan, where are you staying?”

“I’ve moved into my grandfather’s now that Kerry is here with you.”

No one would mistake one for the other. “When you and Kerry are done bonding, I’ll drive you back.”

“Thank you.”

Hunter’s cell rang. He stepped toward the entranceway, keeping his back to them. “Markum...She give you anything? ...Did you ask her about the surgery?...Thanks.”

He swiped off his phone.

“Who was that?” Kerry asked.

“Jeff Shapiro, the lead detective on the Nancy Donello-Sanchez case. Once I provided him with her name, he followed up. He wanted to let me know he’d spoken with Nancy’s mom, but she offered little help.”

“Nancy Donello-Sanchez?” The name didn’t sound familiar.

“Sorry. The woman who was washed up in the Bay. You were right. She had used the River of Hope shelter on several occasions.”

Kerry brightened. There might be a connection then. “Did he say who’d performed her plastic surgery?”

“When Shapiro contacted Nancy’s mother, he didn’t think to question her about it. He said it didn’t seem relevant at the time.”

“Did he have any idea who might have killed her?”

“Nope. I actually learned more about Nancy’s life than he had. Going to the shelter led me to the woman’s dead ex-husband and to her boyfriend.”

“What’s your next step?” Kerry asked.

“If there is a connection between her death and the four Jane Does, I need to ask Nancy’s mom about the surgery.” The lines around his eyes had etched deeper in the last week and dark smudges under his eyes had given his face a hallowed look.

“I want to come with you. I can help.”

“No.”

She had her answer ready. “If I’m with you, I won’t be able to get in trouble.”

He glanced from Kerry to Susan and back again. “It’s probably against my better judgment, but you do have a point.”

“I’m not trying to interfere in your job. I merely want to do mine.”

“Only because I can’t trust you to stay put, I’ll take you along.”

“Thank you.” The air cleared about why she’d left, she broached another topic. “After we visit Nancy’s mom, do you think you could help Susan extract some information out of Brad?”

Hunter dragged a hand through his hair. His eyes were bloodshot and his posture lacked his usual energy. Asking him to add more work to his hectic schedule gave her pause, but Susan needed his help.

“I’ll give it a try, but on one condition.”

“That being?”

“I don’t want you with me. Brad might be dangerous.”

This time, she wouldn’t argue. He had harmed Susan, so there was no telling what he was like now. “I’ll either stay locked up here or be at the lab.”

Kerry glanced over at Susan and they exchanged relieved smiles.

“Thanks,” Susan said.

Hunter’s scowl deepened. Now what was that for?



On the drive to Nancy Donello-Sanchez’s mother’s house, Hunter told Kerry about the medical examiner’s van picking up Willie Wyble.

“I don’t understand. No one at the ME’s office would have anything to gain from burying bodies. We have to account for each one.”

“I know. I have no explanation. I’m only telling you so you’ll be ultra careful. Trust no one there.”

“Hunter, you drive me to work and pick me up. I’ll be safe.” She crossed her arms. “Do you always believe what men of the street tell you? They most likely have a drinking problem and a bad memory.”

Vella Day's books