Obsession

by Patricia Bradley

  “Morning. Like last night, there’s too big a chance of destroying evidence. I’ll assign two deputies to guard the site and make sure they don’t drink any coffee that’s been out of their sight. And I’ll have another deputy make regular drive-bys,” Nate said, taking out his phone.

  While Nate contacted his deputies, Sam edged closer to the pit and shined his light along the bottom. Wait. “Look at this,” he said to Nate.

  The sheriff hooked his phone on his belt and peered into the hole. “Is that a shoe print?”

  “Looks like one to me,” Sam said. “We may have gotten lucky.”

  “I’ll get a tech out here to cast it ASAP, but processing the rest of the crime scene can wait until morning.”

  Sam checked his watch. Almost one thirty. Too late to call Emma and tell her about the new developments. He hadn’t asked her if she’d considered they might be excavating a grave, but maybe he needed to prepare her . . . just in case.

  18

  Emma looked out her window. No sign of Sam. She checked her watch. He was five minutes late already. She’d seriously considered renting a vehicle with an automatic transmission until she remembered that if she drove after being advised by a doctor not to and had an accident, her insurance wouldn’t pay.

  She picked up her phone, scrolled to Sam’s name, and punched it. He answered on the first ring.

  “I’m turning on your street now. Give me a minute to look around.”

  “What’s your excuse this time?”

  “Afraid I don’t have one.”

  She laughed. “At least you’re honest. Ring me when I can come down.”

  Shaking her head, Emma slid her phone in her back pocket. People like Sam just didn’t have any concept of time. They always thought they could crowd one more thing into their schedule. She moved from the window and grabbed the clothes she planned to wear after work just as her cell phone rang again. Jack Winters showed on her caller ID.

  “Dad, is something wrong?” Emma suppressed a groan. She sounded just like her mother.

  He chuckled. “Does there have to be something wrong for a man to call his daughter?”

  His upbeat baritone calmed her nerves. “No, but I can’t remember the last time you called me at seven thirty on a Saturday morning.”

  “I wouldn’t have if you’d called me last night.”

  She stared at her bandaged hand. “Dr. Cole phoned you.”

  “No, I ran into Corey Chandler. He said he saw you at Jug Head’s. How is your hand this morning?”

  “Okay. It hardly even hurts.” Unless she forgot and tried to use it. Or let it dangle.

  “How about if I stop by and check it out later today?”

  “You don’t get enough nursing on the job?” she teased.

  “I rarely get to take care of anyone now.”

  Emma had been a little surprised when her dad moved into the administrative side of nursing. “Thank you for your offer, but I’m leaving for Mount Locust any minute now.”

  “How are you getting there?”

  “Sam Ryker is picking me up.”

  “I’d heard he was back in town. How is he?”

  Her parents had always liked Sam and, unlike her, had never blamed him for Ryan’s disappearance. “Fine. He’s taken over the district ranger position on the Trace from Natchez to Jackson.”

  “Good. About time he came home. Is tonight a good time for me to drop by?”

  She hesitated. “I’m having dinner with Mom tonight if I can get someone to take me to Jackson.”

  “I can take you.”

  That would just be weird, but it was an option. “I can’t ask you to do that. Sam will take me.”

  “Let me know,” he said. “But I would like to see you.”

  “How about dropping by tomorrow after I get off work? I’ll find something around here to make for supper.”

  “Tomorrow night sounds good, but let me bring the food—I’ve had your cooking,” he said, chuckling.

  “That’s even better.” A text popped up on her phone, and she glanced at it. “Sam’s here. I have to go,” she said.

  “Tell him I said hello.”

  “I will. And I’ll let you know if he can’t drive me up to Jackson.” Emma disconnected and hurried down the stairs. Her heart missed a beat when she opened the door and Sam was standing there in his green-and-gray uniform. Before she could erase the thought, she was struck by his quiet strength and how handsome he was. Her heart fluttered again as admiration reflected in his dark eyes, then he tipped his head.

  “It’s all clear,” he said.

  All clear of what? Reality jerked her out of her fog. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten even for a nanosecond that someone was stalking her. “Oh, good. Thank you for checking.”

  He guided her with his hand as they descended the steps, and she breathed deeply, enjoying the crisp air as the sun peeked over the trees. It should be a beautiful January day. “My dad said to tell you hi.”

  “How is he? And what are the clothes for?”

  “He’s fine. As for the clothes—I have plans after work that might include you.”

  “Oh?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Mom wants me to come for dinner, and since I can’t drive myself—”

  “It’s not a problem. I’ll drop you off and pick you up.”

  “Really? You sure you don’t mind spending your evening ferrying me back and forth to my mom’s in the Fondren District?”

  “It will actually fit in with my plans.” Sam opened the passenger door. “I need to touch base with Chief Ranger Cordell, and if he’s good with it, I’ll meet with him after I drop you off.”

  Emma eyed him as she climbed into the SUV. “You really expect me to believe your chief ranger is going to meet with you on a Saturday night?”

  Red crept up his neck. “We’ll see, but he’s been bugging me to have a face-to-face. He even suggested a weekend.”

  Sam closed her door, and a sense of being watched crept over her. She scanned the neighborhood. Everything looked normal. Emma turned toward Sam as he slid behind the wheel. “You’re not going to believe this, but Mom hired a PI to look for Ryan.”

  “Really? When?”

  “Right after she moved to Jackson. When she told me that last night, I was so shocked I had to sit down. She’s going to give me the investigator’s report tonight.”

  “That’s really good. We’re going to need it.” He pulled away from the curb and pointed his SUV toward the Trace.

  Emma shot a sharp glance at him. “What’s going on? You’re . . .” She searched for the right word. “It’s like something’s wrong and you’re not telling me.”

  Sam didn’t answer, and he gripped the steering wheel like it was a lifeline.

  “Has something happened?”

  He took a deep breath and briefly glanced her way. “There was another incident at Mount Locust last night.”

  “Incident? What do you mean?” She swayed against the seat belt as he turned onto the Trace. “Was someone else shot at?”

  “No, but someone spiked Trey’s thermos of coffee, and he and Clayton were incapacitated after they drank it.”

  “You’re kidding. Do you know what was in it?”

  “Some type of benzodiazepine. Nate has a friend in Jackson who runs a private lab, and he sent a small amount of the coffee to him. We won’t get the official report back for at least a week.”

  Her grandmother had used a benzodiazepine sometimes for anxiety. Once she’d used too much and was out cold when Emma found her. “That stuff will knock you out. Are they okay?”

  “Yeah. But Trey also got a blow to his head when he woke up too soon.”

  Her mind whirled. This didn’t make sense. “Start at the beginning.”

  She listened as he explained. When he finished, Emma said, “And you’re certain they unearthed more of the site?”

  “The pit was only a little over three feet deep yesterday, right?” When she
nodded, he said, “The hole now measures four feet.”

  Emma didn’t know what to think. Other than that someone really wanted whatever was buried there. She pushed away the dark thought that wormed its way into her mind, but it wouldn’t stay gone. “What do you think this person is looking for?”

  Sam’s lips pressed together in a thin line. “For someone to go to this much trouble and risk going to jail, if I were a betting man, I’d bet on a body. Especially since the GPR machine indicated the original hole was the same length and width as the graves.”

  She processed his words. This time the fear she’d kept at bay threatened to crush her.

  “It’s not Ryan,” she said, her voice breaking. Even saying the words stabbed her heart.

  “I didn’t say it was, but you may need to prepare yourself for someone’s skeletal remains.”

  19

  Emma stared out the window as the trees passed by in a blur. Mount Locust was just ahead. “What if the person recovered whatever was buried?” she asked. “If he did, we’ll never know what was there.”

  “I hope he didn’t have time to remove everything. First Trey woke up, and then I arrived, but we should know soon enough. Nate’s crime scene techs should be there processing the scene.”

  “Does that mean I can’t finish the dig?”

  “Depends on whether they’re through. I found a shoe print in the bottom of the pit, and they cast it last night,” he said.

  Emma sat up straight. One problem after another, but nothing was stopping her from finding the truth. Could all of this be happening because someone didn’t want her exploring the Mount Locust site? Or was it something more sinister? Did it have anything to do with Ryan’s disappearance or Mary Jo Selby’s murder? She needed that PI’s report.

  “I see Nate’s already here,” Sam said and turned off the Trace.

  She glanced toward the maintenance area. Several cars and SUVs were parked there, including one with the sheriff’s department logo on it. “Let me out, and I’ll unlock the gate and walk to the visitor center,” she said. Saturday was one of their busier days, and Emma needed to unlock the door for the volunteer.

  “I can drop you in the parking lot.”

  “That’s silly. I can use the time to let my mom know I’m coming tonight. Besides, it’s only a quarter of a mile, and I need the exercise. I didn’t get in my normal run yesterday or today. And don’t see it happening tomorrow either.”

  He nodded. “As you wish.”

  She shot him a quick glance, and he appeared as surprised as she felt. Whatever made him think of The Princess Bride? She’d discovered the movie on VHS tape when she was sixteen, and Ryan and Sam had teased her mercilessly when they learned she’d worn the tape out.

  Emma tried to think of a quote from the movie that would fit as a response, but nothing came to mind, so she rolled her eyes instead. He laughed out loud and then seemed to catch himself and turned somber.

  “I’ll see you in a few minutes,” she said and grabbed her backpack.

  With the lively bagpipe music from The Princess Bride running through her head, her feet wanted to dance as she hurried to the visitor center. For a few minutes, it had been like old times with Sam. Just before she reached the building, she called her mom and confirmed she would be there by seven thirty. When she disconnected, the gray tabby bounded around the corner of the building.

  “Are you hungry, Suzy?” Emma chuckled, wondering what she’d do if the cat answered. It followed her in when she pushed open the door and stood by the bowl Emma had put behind the desk. If it weren’t for raccoons, she would feed Suzy outside. “Okay. Give me a second.”

  She texted her volunteer and told her the visitor center was open, then picked up the bag of cat food, almost dropping it as she tried to navigate the bag with her left hand. Using that hand was getting old fast.

  While she waited for Suzy to finish eating, she received a text from Sheila that she was approaching the turnoff. Good. Suzy finished her dry food, and Emma shooed her out the door.

  While the cat seemed to be making it okay at the visitor center, if she didn’t take her home, Emma would have to drive to Mount Locust to feed the kitten on her days off. Either way, the little thing would be by herself a couple of days a week. Mentally she added a cat carrier to the list of things she needed to get if she took the cat home with her. That way she could bring her back and forth.

  Still feeling the lighthearted music in her heart, Emma paused while the cat wound herself around her legs. She’d better enjoy this moment of calm. No telling what the rest of the day might bring.

  Emma waited until Sheila parked her vehicle, and then with a wave she walked to the back of the inn, where orange flags marked the location of the slave cabins. Passing them, she followed the path to the cemetery and wound her way to the investigation site, careful not to step inside the markers that indicated where someone was buried. She glanced at the small concrete post to her right. Handmade markers were long gone, and it was her dream to have more than a wooden sign naming those who were laid to rest in the slave cemetery.

  She wanted individual markers, even though she had no idea who was buried where. DNA could give the world those answers, but that would mean excavating the graves. Judging from Corey’s client, that was not going to happen. And part of her could understand not wanting the graves disturbed, especially by someone who didn’t have a relative buried here. At the very least, she wanted to make sure every person buried here was accounted for.

  If someone had been buried in the pit, she wanted them identified and closure brought to that family as well. It was her fervent prayer that she hadn’t been excavating a burial site. Emma cocked her head toward the cemetery as angry voices reached her. What was going on?

  20

  While Emma checked in at the visitor center, Sam drove to the maintenance area and parked next to Nate’s SUV. After grabbing a flashlight and his camera along with a box with gel lifters, he climbed out of the Interceptor, eyeing the white Lexus in the parking lot. He hadn’t been back in Natchez long enough to know who drove luxury cars, but he doubted anything good could come from the car being there.

  As he approached the site, he noticed the tent was once again over the pit, and it looked like Nate’s crime scene crew hadn’t arrived. Good. He’d wanted to search for prints on the backhoe before they went over it. But for now, the heated argument between Corey Chandler and Nate caught his attention. So that’s who the Lexus belonged to.

  “You are desecrating the cemetery, and my client will not stand for this. He’s prepared to take you to court to stop this.” Red splotches dotted Corey’s face as he waved a paper.

  “And I say this is a crime scene,” Nate said, standing almost toe-to-toe with the attorney.

  Evidently Corey’s client had learned they’d been digging at Mount Locust. Sam would love to know how Corey, and his client as well, got their information.

  “You better dig all you want today, because I’m seeing the judge later this afternoon,” Corey said.

  “We’re pretty well through digging, aren’t we?” Sam asked.

  Turning, Corey stepped out of Nate’s space. “What are you doing here, Ryker?”

  “My job, and bringing Emma to work.”

  The attorney looked beyond Sam. “Where is she?”

  “At the visitor center. Why does your client want to stop the study? And who is it?”

  “That’s privileged, and he doesn’t want to stop the study, but he’d like to see a person of color conducting it. Most of all, he doesn’t want anyone digging around the cemetery. It’s sacred ground, and Emma promised that wouldn’t happen.”

  Nate folded his arms across his chest. “Evidently you’re not listening to me. Emma didn’t dig this. An unknown subject dug the hole you’re looking at. We’re just investigating whatever was buried here.”

  “And Emma told you that last night at Jug Head’s,” Sam said.

  Corey’s mouth twitched. �
�That’s true, but I had no idea a backhoe was involved. That’s not quite the same thing as excavating with a shovel.”

  “You’re still not listening. We did not dig this hole.” Sam clamped his mouth shut and counted to ten. The man was unreasonable. He tried again. “And even if we did, according to the diagram from the previous project, there was no grave at this particular spot.”

  “And ground penetrating radar indicated the soil has been disturbed since that study, so something was buried here,” Nate said. “Something important enough that a person risked jail time to retrieve it.”

  “How do you know it’s not gone?”

  “It probably is, but they could have left something behind. This is now a search and recovery for evidence.” Sam turned to Nate. “Right?”

  The sheriff nodded. “And the park service director in Natchez asked that Emma conduct the dig in order to preserve any artifacts.”

  “Do you have the diagram?” Corey asked.

  “I have it,” Emma said, emerging from the back side of the cemetery. All three of them turned toward her.

  “Good, you’re here. How’s your hand?” Corey asked, his voice suddenly warm.

  She waved off his concern. “It’s fine. What’s the problem? I heard you clear on the other side of the cemetery.”

  The attorney frowned. “You assured me you weren’t going to dig up the cemetery.”

  Confusion crossed her face. “We’re not digging it up. We’re trying to discover what was here.” She glanced at Nate as if to ask how much she should tell.

  The sheriff’s jaw shot out. “It’s like I said. A crime was committed here Thursday night, and then again last night. I’m investigating it. Emma is here to look out for the interests of the park service.”