Buried Secrets

by Carol Ericson

  Sam’s mouth got dry, and his pulse drummed in his ears.”

  “Yeah? What about him?”

  “He’s dead.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Jolene furrowed her brow as she watched Sam clutching the phone with white knuckles, his chest heaving.

  She whispered, “What about who?”

  Same held up a finger at her. “How the hell did that happen, Clay?”

  He paused, but whatever Clay was telling him was winding him up even more, as two red spots formed on his cheeks and lights flared in his blue eyes. “That’s negligent. That’s criminal. What did he say during questioning?”

  Jolene twisted her fingers in front of her. Were they discussing Tucker? Had he confessed?

  “This is unbelievable. They’re gonna have to do a full investigation and heads should roll.” His jaw tightened and Jolene could almost hear the teeth grinding from the kitchen. “Yeah, yeah.”

  He ended the call and held the phone in his hand, staring at it.

  “What is it? What happened?”

  Shoving the phone in his back pocket, he joined her in the kitchen. He put his hand on her arm and now her heart was galloping.

  “Tucker Bishop killed himself in his jail cell this morning.”

  Her knees weakened and she grabbed the edge of the counter. “How?”

  “He hung himself with the bedsheets.” Sam tossed the leftover coffee from his cup into the sink and brown liquid marred the spotless porcelain. “How the hell did the deputies allow that to happen?”

  “D-did he confess to murdering Melody before he killed himself?”

  “No. He wouldn’t cough up anything. Seems he told them less than he revealed to us. We probably know more than the police do about what Tucker was doing there and what he saw and heard.” He cranked on the faucet and rinsed down the sink—busy work for agitated hands.

  “Now we’re not going to learn any more of what Tucker knew.” She pressed a hand to her face. “Sam, do you think someone got to Tucker in jail? Does that kind of thing happen?”

  He hunched over the sink, his T-shirt clinging to his tightly coiled muscles. “That stuff happens all the time, especially if the guy wasn’t on suicide watch.”

  “Would Tucker have been on suicide watch?”

  “Not unless he made statements that would indicate he was suicidal, which I guess he didn’t.”

  “That’s ridiculous. The man was obviously not in his right mind. Wouldn’t that be considered suicidal on its surface?”

  “Doesn’t work that way. He didn’t even confess to harming Melody.”

  “Because he didn’t.” Jolene folded her arms over her stomach. “But he knew who did, and that’s why he was silenced.”

  “Whoa!” Sam spun around. “You’re jumping fast and hard to some serious conclusions.”

  “C’mon, Sam. That’s exactly what you’re thinking. I saw it on your face when you were talking to Clay on the phone.”

  He plowed a hand through his hair. “What you’re suggesting would require several things to happen—none of them complimentary to the Pima County Sheriff’s Department.”

  “I’m not saying a deputy murdered Tucker, but you know how he was—highly unstable.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “It wouldn’t have taken much to drive that poor man over the edge completely—haranguing, suggestions, lies.”

  “You’re implying someone was paid off to take him over that edge?” He rubbed his chin. “If so, we’re in trouble. I’m going to have to be careful about my interest in the construction site, and the sooner I have a look, the better.”

  “The sooner we have a look, the better. There’s no way you’re keeping me away from that land.”

  Sam opened his mouth and then snapped it shut when he took in Jolene’s flaring nostrils and the martial light in her eyes. When she got that look, nobody could tell her anything.

  She wore that same look when he’d told her about his ex’s pregnancy, and she’d ordered him to go back to his wife and unborn child and to forget about her...as if that were ever going to happen.

  * * *

  AT THE END of the day, Jolene collapsed on her couch, drained and depressed. Not even Chip licking at her hand could bring a smile to her face.

  Chip had already been hard at work trying to cheer people up, as she’d brought him to Gran’s house where the family had met to mourn Melody and discuss arrangements. All the relatives believed it was a robbery gone wrong with Tucker Bishop as the culprit. His suicide in jail had confirmed their beliefs.

  Who was she to dissuade them? It had brought them a measure of comfort on a dark day.

  As Sam had mentioned, they needed to keep a low profile regarding their suspicions about the casino project and what Melody may or may not have known about it. They didn’t want to alert anyone to their interest any more than she’d already done so via her stunt with the bones.

  And if those bones came back to her, it could all be dismissed as her concern for the land as a Yaqui.

  She plucked at her skirt. She should probably change before Sam got here. He was coming over with dinner, and then they were heading to the construction site to have a look around.

  Instead, she closed her eyes and patted Chip’s head as he rested it against her knee. Two seconds later, a knock on the door made her jerk upright.

  Chip whined and scampered to the front door. If he wasn’t barking, he must know Sam was on the other side of that door. She glanced at her phone and jumped up from the couch. She’d been asleep for almost an hour.

  She peeked through the blinds at Sam holding bags of food. Nudging Chip aside with her foot, she cracked open the door. “Come on in. I fell asleep on the couch.”

  “Get back, Chip.” Sam pushed his way past the excited dog. “Chinese, is that okay?”

  “I could’ve cooked something.” She closed and locked the door, and then took a plastic bag twisted around Sam’s fingers.

  “You must’ve had a rough day if you fell asleep on the couch.” He placed his bag on the counter. “How’d it go with the family? How’s Granny Viv?”

  “Heartbroken.”

  “It must’ve been a hard day for everyone.” He reached for a couple of plates from the cupboard. “Are you sure you want to come with me tonight?”

  “Oh, no you don’t.” She waved a fork at him. “Don’t try to dissuade me. I’m coming with you. I know where my father’s body was found, and that’s where we’re going to start. It’s a big piece of property. You can’t just wander around in the dark, staring at the ground.”

  “I don’t know what I expect to find there. Hasn’t all that land been prepped for the construction? Isn’t that why Wade knew there was something fishy about those bones?” He dipped into one of the bags and pulled out a carton of rice.

  “Yeah, that was an amateur move on my part, but I had to put those bones where they’d be discovered during the ground-breaking ceremony.” She plunged a couple of spoons into the other containers. “There’s a part of that land that hasn’t been prepared yet, though. They’re holding that aside for a golf course, or something like that. Can you imagine green grass out there, and the amount of water it would take to keep it that way?”

  “Other resorts out here have golf courses.”

  “Oh, so this is a resort now? Wade won’t stop until he’s built up a theme park for the whole family—Yaqui World.”

  Sam snorted. “I doubt that. So, there’s untouched land bordering the construction area?”

  “Yeah, and you need me to find it. So, don’t get any ideas about leaving me out.” She carried the food to the kitchen table. “We could eat this in the living room, but Chip would be all over us.”

  “Kitchen table is good.”

  They settled at the table with the open cartons
of food in front of them and Chip at their feet.

  “The whole family believes Tucker Bishop killed Melody to steal her purse. Did you learn anything more about his suicide?”

  “I did.” Sam scooted the peppers from his kung pao into a little pile on the edge of his plate. “The security camera in the jail cell isn’t working.”

  Jolene dropped her chopsticks, flicking grains of rice into the air. “You’re kidding.”

  “I wish I were. The deputies checked the security footage for that row of cells, and all they saw was fuzz. There was some trouble with that camera before, which makes the malfunction slightly more believable. But why put prisoners in those cells when you’ve already had issues with the cameras? It’s not like there was no room in the cells.”

  “This stinks, Sam. It sounds like someone was on the take, ordered to keep Tucker quiet one way or the other.”

  “It’s not my department. I can’t order an investigation.” He picked up a piece of chicken with his chopsticks, but it fell back to his plate before he could get it into his mouth. “Problem is, Tucker was a transient. He doesn’t have anyone to demand that investigation.”

  “That’s just sad.” She held out a fork to him. “I can’t stand to watch you anymore. You’re going to starve using those chopsticks.”

  “I got this.” He balanced the same piece of chicken on the ends of the chopsticks and hurried it into his mouth. “Did you get a chance to visit Melody’s apartment?”

  “No time, but I set myself up to go in there by offering to pack up her things. I can probably get in there legally instead of trying to sneak in, don’t you think?”

  “The sheriffs will probably let you in even if the yellow tape is still up. It might still be designated a crime scene, but it’s most likely no longer active. They’ve ransacked the place by now—dusted for prints, collected blood and other DNA samples, taken her computer.” He shrugged and shoveled some rice into his mouth. “If there’s anything left for you to discover, it’s going to be something that has no significance to law enforcement.”

  She held up a chopstick. “They don’t know what we know, so what has no meaning for them might mean a great deal to us.”

  “This garlic chicken is making me thirsty.” Sam pushed back from the table. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Just water.”

  When he brought two glasses of water back to the table, she took a few gulps and shoved her plate away. “I’m done. I meant to change clothes when I got home. I’m not going to go digging around in the desert in a skirt.”

  “You had about two bites.”

  “No appetite.” She crossed her chopsticks on the edge of her plate.

  “You change and I’ll finish eating. Then I’ll feed Chip.” Sam held up two fingers. “No garlic chicken for him, I swear.”

  “You’d better not. Dogs aren’t supposed to have garlic.” She placed a fork in front of him. “Use this, please, or we’ll be here all night as you chase that chicken around your plate.”

  “I am getting kind of hungry.” He grabbed the fork and plowed into the food.

  She waved her hand over the table. “You’re feeding Chip, so I’ll clean up. Leave all this for me.”

  She spun around and headed toward the bedroom, averting her gaze from the bed. She couldn’t look at it without a hot blush rushing to her cheeks. She’d been so darned easy after all her resolutions, but just because she’d taken Sam back into her bed, didn’t mean she was letting him back into her heart—he had to earn his way back there.

  She changed into the same outfit she’d worn to dump those bones—dark jeans, dark T-shirt and boots. She wanted to blend in with the night, just in case.

  After she brushed her teeth and pulled her hair into a ponytail, she went back into the living room. “Did Chip eat?”

  “Every morsel. I let him out back.” Sam flicked a dish towel over his shoulder. “Cleaned up, too.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “You know these newfangled inventions like a dishwasher and refrigerator make it easy. I just stuck the cartons into the fridge and put the dishes in the dishwasher.” He narrowed his eyes. “You look ready for a covert operation.”

  “Isn’t that what this is? We’re taking this seriously, aren’t we?” She shoved her hands in her back pockets and dug the heels of her boots into the floor. “You’re not doing this to humor me, are you?”

  “Humor you? It’s gone beyond that with Melody’s death.” He flipped up his shirt to expose the gun at his waist. “Does this look like I’m not taking it seriously?”

  She swallowed. “All right, then. Let’s go.”

  Sam went to the sliding doors and whistled for Chip. “Is his dog door closed?”

  “I keep it closed at night once he’s inside.” She raised her eyebrows. “Afraid I’ll get more warnings left on my porch?”

  “If all you got were a few dead snakes with arrows through their heads, I’d be happy. Just keep your house locked up and Chip on guard.”

  Jolene grabbed a backpack with a flashlight, a spade, a bottle of water and some other essential items for creeping through the night in the desert.

  She tripped to a stop on the porch when she saw Sam’s Border Patrol truck parked behind the rental car that had been delivered to her today in the driveway. “You’re on Border Patrol business?”

  “Our agency isn’t as particular about company vehicles as yours is. Did you think I was going to take that little rental into the sand? We’d get stuck in two minutes.” He strode to the truck and opened the back. “Throw your stuff in here, and open your garage door so we can take a few tools.”

  “Tools?” She entered the code for her garage door.

  “Don’t tell me you dug through the sand to bury those bones with your two hands. I know you have a shovel. I saw it, remember?”

  She ducked under the garage door before it finished opening and grabbed the shovel she’d used earlier in the week. “Anything else?”

  “That’s good enough.” He took the shovel from her and threw it in the back of the truck.

  As she climbed into the truck, the wind picked up and snatched at her ponytail. She tipped her head back and sniffed the air. “I hope there’s not another monsoon on the way.”

  “Wouldn’t surprise me.” Sam slammed her door and went around to the driver’s side. He started the truck and rolled down her driveway.

  They rode in silence for a few miles with the radio playing in the background. Jolene gazed out the window and took a deep breath. “You never showed me any pictures of Jess.”

  “You never asked.”

  “D-do you have some on your phone?” She folded her hands in her lap. “I’d like to see them...her.”

  “I do.” He snatched up his phone on the console and entered his passcode with his thumb. He dropped the phone in her lap. “If you go to my photos, you’ll see a whole folder dedicated to her.”

  With unsteady hands, Jolene picked up his phone and accessed the folder called Jess. In the first picture, a bright-eyed toddler with curly dark hair grinned back at her.

  Jolene’s own lips stretched into a smile almost involuntarily. “She looks like you...and she looks full of mischief.”

  “She is.” Sam’s chest almost puffed up. “She’s still small for her age, but her pediatrician says she’ll catch up. She likes books. She likes anything with wheels, and she loves dogs. I showed her a picture of Chip when he was a puppy, and now she calls every dog Chip.”

  Tears pricked the back of Jolene’s eyes, and the next picture of Jess riding a plastic Big Wheel blurred before her. “Sounds like you’ll have to get her a dog.”

  “I will when she’s older. I...” Sam stopped and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. “She’s funny. She makes me laugh.”

  Jolene swiped thro
ugh several more photos of the happy little girl. She’d made the right choice letting Sam go. Would he have been able to have the same kind of relationship with his daughter living apart from her? Living in another state? And with Aimee using again, he’d have never known a moment’s peace.

  She let out a sigh and placed his phone back on the console. “She’s adorable.”

  “I want you to meet her, Jolene.”

  Tapping on the window, she said, “It’s coming up. We can take the access road to the casino construction site, and then I’ll guide you in from there.”

  Sam slowed the truck, but they didn’t have to search for the entrance to the access road this time. A huge orange-and-yellow sign had gone up on the road, proclaiming this the future site of the Yaqui Desert Sun Casino.

  The sign made her stomach churn. Her father had died here and it meant nothing to the people he’d led and counseled most of his life. She licked her lips. “Cheerful sign, huh?”

  Sam glanced at her. “If you like that sort of thing.”

  As he pulled onto the access road, sand pinged the windshield of the truck. “It’s windy out here tonight. If it brings in a storm, we’re gonna abandon ship and do this another night.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m sure we’re going to have a limited number of nights before the bones are dismissed as a stunt.” She sat forward in her seat. “The equipment is still here. The builders must think they’ll be back to work soon.”

  “Maybe they will.” The truck crawled to a stop, idling at the edge of the construction site, the out-of-commission equipment hulking in the darkness like the bones of some extinct creatures. “Where to?”

  She closed her eyes and mumbled a few words, tracing lines in the air with her fingertip.

  “What are you doing? Is that an old Yaqui spell?”

  She punched his arm. “Remember the map that was stolen?”

  “Of course—the map you didn’t accuse Wade of stealing because you didn’t want him to know you had stolen the map from him in case he didn’t realize you’d stolen the map. That map?”

  “Yes.” She tapped her head. “I memorized it—or at least the construction areas. There were other sections shaded in blue that were not yet earmarked for building. I think we should start there.”