Buried Deep_A dark Romantic Suspense

by Vella Day

  No wonder she couldn’t understand the older woman. “That’s okay.” She repeated her request to find Lucy Gilmore.

  “You made the trip for nothing. Lucy was my older sister, but she died a long time ago.”

  She’s dead? “I’m sorry.” From his wide nose, prominent cheekbones and strong jaw, he was no doubt Navajo. “I think I’ve made a mistake. I was looking for a different Lucy Gilmore then.” Her birth mother couldn’t be dead. Surely, the lawyer would have known.

  “My sister was the only one around here with that name.”

  Confused, she handed Jimmy the directions. “I was told she lived at this address.”

  “That’s here, but I told you she’s dead.”

  Arguing wasn’t doing her any good. “I must have my information wrong then.”

  “You aren’t old enough to have known her.” He stepped closer and handed back the paper. “It doesn’t matter. Come with me.”

  16

  Could his dead sister be her mother? If Lara’s mom became pregnant at say, eighteen, she’d be fifty if she’d lived. Perhaps his sister was her real mother.

  Confused, she followed Jimmy to the door. Halfway there, a cloud of dust snuck up behind her. She coughed and covered her mouth. Twisting around to see who’d arrived, for a mere second she thought maybe his sister had come despite the brother claiming she’d died.

  Two men descended from the cab of a truck whose bed was stacked with large barrels. As they charged toward Jimmy, she moved out of the way to give them room. They spoke in the same lilting language as the woman, which Lara suspected was Navajo.

  The old woman’s son motioned the men to put the containers on the side of the house. He then faced her. “Water.”

  “You don’t have a well?” The idea of living out in the dry desert without everyday amenities appalled her. Her heart ached for the family. She wished she could do something for them.

  “It’s too far down to drill. Plus, it costs too much. We don’t have electricity either.”

  Really? In America? “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. This is our land.” He swept a hand across the desert. “It’s what the American Government promised would be ours, only they let the coal plant creep up on us, take our grazing land, and leave us with pollution that kills.” If she’d been able to hear the nuances in his voice, she bet he sounded bitter.

  Life had been cruel to these people. If her adoptive mother had been alive, she would have started a campaign to help them. Lara wasn’t sure what to say or what to do, other than the obvious, I’m sorry. She used the tired refrain too often.

  Jimmy stepped back under the house’s overhang to keep out of the sun. “Why did you need to see Lucy?”

  “I believe she was my… birth mother.”

  A hint of what she thought might be fear flickered in his eyes, but they turned passive a moment later. “Do you have proof?”

  Lara had expected the question. Her mouth was clogged from the dust, forcing her to clear her throat. She dug out a copy of her birth certificate from her purse. “Here.”

  He studied the yellowed page for a while. “I may be able to help. Come inside.”

  He disappeared before she could question him further. She wiped her sweaty palms on her thigh and entered the house. The inside was cozier than the outside. The small home was basically one large room, filled with colorful decorations on the wall. A kitchen sink, an icebox, and a propane burner sat crammed in the far corner with stacks of food containers on the counter. Two single beds peeked out from behind a half-drawn curtain and took up a fourth of the space. The rest of the house contained a loveseat, three wooden chairs, a large table that had more gouges than legs, and two end tables. A television sat on the floor, although she couldn’t understand how they watched TV without electricity.

  “We hook it up to a battery,” Jimmy said, following her gaze. “But the battery ran out of juice a couple of years ago. Have a seat.”

  How could he be so casual about the hardship? Her admiration for him and his mother grew. They’d endured harsh treatment from the government, yet they managed to maintain an upbeat attitude.

  She sat at the table where light came in from the one window. Two propane lamps on either side of the sofa remained unlit.

  Jimmy spoke to his mother in their native language. His mom glanced up at Lara several times before she pushed up from the chair and hobbled to the back of the house next to one of the beds. She returned a moment later with a photograph of a woman holding a baby.

  The mother handed Lara the photo. The faded, blurry black and white image lacked enough detail to tell what the woman really looked like, so she returned the picture to Jimmy’s mom. “Who is she?” Her heart pounded, not wanting to draw any conclusions.

  “My mother says that my sister, Lucy, had a baby girl thirty-one years ago, but when Lucy died of cancer, we couldn’t afford to keep her. We located the father, but he wasn’t happy. Apparently he was married and insisted we put the baby up for adoption.” Jimmy cast his gaze to the ground. “I was only eight at the time and don’t remember much.”

  The mother motioned for Lara to come near.

  Lara stood and faced Jimmy. “Do you know the name of this man?”

  “No, but he lived in Tampa, Florida, where my sister used to work.”

  Heart pounding, she forced her feet to move. Her head throbbed, and for a moment she thought she could hear her biological mom call her name.

  Tears welled in her eyes.

  With no chair nearby, Lara knelt in front of the old woman. Gnarled fingers unfolded, and she placed her hands in the woman’s grasp. Her rough palms and weathered skin spoke volumes of the pain she’d endured. The old lady looked up at Jimmy and said something.

  Lara looked back at him and took a deep breath. “She says you look like Lucy.”

  Oh, God. She’d found her real family. Joy spread through her as tears clogged her throat.

  “Sit down, Trevor.” His father stabbed the fork in the loaf of garlic bread. “You’re like a caged animal pacing back and forth.”

  “You’d be upset too if Mom disappeared for two days.”

  The room went silent. Shit. He never should have used such a personal analogy. Lara and he weren’t that close. Or were they?

  His younger brother slapped the kitchen table and let out a whistle. “It’s serious, huh? You think of hooking up with Lara? I bet the Captain would have a field day with that info.”

  While he loved his family, they didn’t need to know he’d already slept with her. As for how serious it was, Lara needed him to protect her, that’s all—or so he kept telling himself. “No. I’m her bodyguard, or rather was her bodyguard until I dropped her off at Dennis’. She managed to slip out of his house and could be in danger. I don’t know where to look.”

  Herb drank his iced tea and eyed him over the lip. “You’ve been doing the nasty with her, haven’t you? You son of a bitch.”

  “Herb!” Mom banned swearing in the house long ago, not that any of the males followed the rule.

  Trevor wanted to wipe the smirk off his younger brother’s face, but his mother glared at him as though she knew what he had in mind. Trevor jerked back the dining room chair and sat across from his father. The food in front of him had lost its appeal, but his mom wouldn’t let him go without an attempt at eating. He refused to meet Herb’s gaze.

  Ethan burped. “‘Excuse me. What about Carla at the lab? Can’t she do some search to find Lara?”

  “Just my luck, Carla’s off on some adventure racing jaunt and won’t be back until tonight.” He shoveled in a mouthful of spaghetti and meatballs.

  “Call her.”

  Trevor held up a finger, and then swallowed. “Carla’s in the woods without a phone. I tried already.”

  “That sucks,” Herb threw out.

  If he stayed any longer, he might let his emotions get the best of him and say something he’d regret later. “I need to go.” He stood.
r />   “You haven’t finished your meal.” His mother gave him the puppy dog look.

  He almost bent. “I really need to go. Lara might be at her home. If she returns to Dennis’s place, he said he’d call. Her note said she’d be back Sunday evening.”

  “Call her.” This from Dad.

  “I’ve tried. No answer.”

  A frown creased his father’s brow. “Be careful, son.”

  “I plan to.”

  Trevor raced back to Lara’s. Even without the lights flashing, he made it to her house in less than twenty minutes. His palms sweated as he parked in front of her house. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if she weren’t home yet. Pace? Cuss? Pound a hole in the wall?

  Even though no inside lights were on, he rushed up to the porch. “Lara?”

  He was halfway down the steps when her car came into view and relief and elation rushed through him. She parked in the driveway and slipped out, a small suitcase in her hand. He ran down the steps toward her. “Lara.”

  Nothing prepared her for the sight of Trevor, muscles flexing, storming down the porch steps. Her heart pinged as the sexy, strong, take-control man made a beeline toward her. From the way his feet hit the steps with such force, perhaps she’d underestimated his reaction to her slipping away for the weekend.

  “Where have you been?” Trevor’s face was so close she could smell something tangy on his breath. Lasagna perhaps?

  She straightened her tired shoulders, not about to let Trevor Kinsey dictate what she could or couldn’t do. It was her life. “I was away on personal business.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? Or the very least, tell Dennis? Irene was worried sick about you.” His fingers clasped her shoulders, but the pressure came out gentle. “I thought the bastard had abducted you.” His mouth pinched.

  “You thought that?” What had she done? “I left a note. Didn’t Dennis tell you?”

  “Yes, but how was I to know you hadn’t written it under duress?”

  “I never meant to upset you.” Her arms grew weary from holding the suitcase. “Can we go inside? I need to pick up some more clothes before I head back to Dennis’.” Despite the cool air, sweat dripped down her back. Compared to dry New Mexico, Tampa’s humidity was stifling.

  “Sure, but we’re not finished with this discussion.” He slipped her suitcase from her fingers and marched up the steps, his back stiff.

  “I was only gone two days,” Lara mumbled to his retreating back.

  He spun around. “What did you say?”

  She smiled sweetly. “Nothing.”

  Her ankle was still sore, so she used the handrail to lessen the impact on her joint. Once inside, the cool, stale air gave her a small lift.

  Trevor followed her to the bedroom and placed her suitcase next to the bed. “What possessed you to leave without calling me?”

  Lara wasn’t sure how much to reveal. If she mentioned she took off to learn about her heritage, he’d...what, leave? Laugh? Or sympathize? If she mentioned the Navajo lineage, how would he react? She knew. He’d be scared shitless and lock her up in the county jail until the Native American killer was caught.

  His logic wouldn’t be sound since she only learned her true identity yesterday. How could the person attacking her kind know she was half Native American?

  “I found out something at the will reading I needed to follow-up on.” There. She hadn’t lied.

  The lights in the house flickered, and a small shiver trickled up her spine. My God. Were her parents listening? She opened her suitcase and pulled out her clothes.

  He stepped next to her. “You could have asked me to go with you.”

  “True, but what would you have said? Your job’s here in Tampa.” She dumped the dirty laundry in the hamper in the bathroom.

  He followed her in. “I would have said not to go.” He took her shoulders in his hands and turned her to face him. “My God, Lara, how could you put yourself in danger like that?”

  “Do you mean when I left Dennis’ house alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t want you to feel obligated to drop everything and come with me. You need to find those missing men.” That much was true. “My leaving had nothing to do with the case we’re working on, so I thought it shouldn’t matter if I left for a weekend.” She wrapped her arms around her shoulders and brushed past him back into the bedroom.

  “You could have trusted me enough to tell me what’s going on.”

  Trust wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. She’d trusted Janet and look where that had gotten her. She’d trusted her college boyfriend, and he’d made a mockery of their relationship. She refused to think about the lack of trust her parents had for her when they kept her birth secret. “There was something very upsetting that I had to deal with.”

  “I’m not trying to pry. I just want to keep you safe.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  What would he have done if he’d found out he’d been adopted and lied to by his parents? Would he have yearned to learn more? She knew the answer. Yes.

  Her body ached, and she was hungry and couldn’t think straight. Trevor deserved to be told, just not yet. “I promise to let you know if I need to leave again.”

  “You better.”

  She had upset him. Darn. “I’m taking a shower if that’s okay by you.”

  “I’ll be in the living room. When you’re ready, I’ll drive you back to Dennis’.”

  “Thank you.” There was no need for her to have her car, so she didn’t argue.

  He left, closing the door behind him, and her heart sank. She’d pushed away the one person who could make her feel normal. Her raw emotions had confused her to the point where rational thought didn’t exist.

  She slipped off her sandals and her shirt and let the cool air breathe life into her skin. To help return the blood back into her tired legs, she did a toe raise. Whap! Pain shot straight to her ankle, nearly crumbling her. That had been a bad move. How could she have forgotten her injury? It was called preoccupation with bodyguard Trevor.

  A bodyguard? Was that all he was?

  No. He was more. Trevor was a friend. Liar. Okay, he was her fantasy man but still a man she wasn’t ready to give her heart to.

  Focus. Shower, food, leave, in that order.

  She stepped out of her lightweight Capri pants and tossed the battery pack and wire on the bed. She’d just unhooked her bra when Trevor placed his hands on her shoulders.

  She jumped, heart thundering against her chest. She grabbed her shirt to her chest and faced him. “Do you mind?” So what if they’d been intimate? This was different.

  Trevor didn’t blink, didn’t even seem to notice her state of undress. Didn’t he care she was half naked?

  “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He spoke clear enough for her to read his lips. “If you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

  Tell him. Maybe he could help her sort out the tangled mass of confusion swimming in her head. Part of her wanted to share the joy of finding her birth mother’s relatives, but she didn’t want to further burden him with what she’d learned.

  Trevor leaned closer and studied her face for what seemed forever. With a gentle touch, he cupped her cheeks and ran his thumbs down her face. “Lara. I don’t want to control you. I want to help you. I can’t chance losing you.” A look of fear sliced across his face as he ran a finger over her lips.

  Her heart dropped down to her stomach and beat so fast she thought she might cry for his pain. Did he really mean it? Trevor’s lids closed halfway and his lips parted. Every muscle in her body turned to mush as he leaned closer.

  17

  Trevor’s lips descended on hers, hard and demanding. Oh, God. Lara had wanted to taste him, hold him, have him inside her for days and here he was in the flesh. Every pent up anguish and frustration from the madman on the loose to finding her birth mother dead fueled her need for him.

  Trevor. She needed him. Wanted him. Now. Giving her body to hi
m was not the same as giving her heart, or so she wanted to believe. He surely wasn’t here for love.

  With his hands on her waist, he backed her up until she met the wall. He straightened, his gaze still locked on her face. She held her shirt to her chest like a suit of armor until he eased her fingers from the cloth, and the material dropped to the floor.

  He threaded the bra straps down her arms. “You’re beautiful.”

  His words stole her breath away, and the cool air pebbled her nipples. Eyes narrowed, he dipped his head and suckled each breast. His slow, teasing nips quickly turned rapid, and she shot her hands to his shoulders. She kneaded his sinewy flesh, and then moved to his neck and finally his chest. Her speed matched his fevered pace.

  When he slowed his exploration, she relaxed, enjoying his fingertips on her tender flesh. So many spots burst with need she wasn’t able to focus on any one motion. As he kissed her lips, he explored her breasts with his hands. He then dragged his fingers down her side, over her waist, and past her thighs.

  Go lower.

  His rough palms rubbed and teased her body until she drowned in desire, her knees nearly buckling from the rush of joy.

  An intense heat shot between her thighs, and she shoveled her hands through his hair and groaned, reveling in the soft, silky texture. She placed a hand on his throat to experience his moans, his pulse, and his desire. His eyes fluttered and his mouth opened as his breath whooshed out of his lungs.

  It was time.

  As if they had a will of their own, she dropped her hands from his throat to his zipper by way of his muscular chest and rippling abs. She couldn’t wait to strip him naked and touch his skin and savor his body once more. She ripped down his fly and shoved his pants over his hips. With a greedy hand, she grasped his near-bursting erection, and the thick rod short-circuited her brain.

  He squeezed his eyes shut. “Are you sure?”

  Couldn’t he tell by her actions that she wanted him? “Yes, I want you,” she croaked, her throat dry, unsure if the words came out or if she’d only thought them.