Buried Secrets_A dark Romantic Suspense

by Vella Day

  She turned off the car’s overhead light and eased out of the seat. She’d taken two steps when a hand covered her mouth.

  She couldn’t breathe. On instinct, she elbowed her attacker and stomped on his instep. He groaned and dropped his hand.

  “Bitch.”

  He got that right. She swung around and reached for her gun—only her gun was in the car. Shit.

  15

  “Richie Raden.” She held up her hands and backed away, praying he hadn’t come prepared for a fight. A quick scan of his body convinced her he most likely didn’t have a weapon.

  The confusion that crossed his face almost made her laugh. “You know me, lady?”

  “In a way. Can we go someplace to talk?” This dark, empty parking garage made her uneasy.

  His face muscles sagged, and his eyes darted right and left. “Sure, but I only got a minute. I’m meeting someone.”

  She hoped it wasn’t Deidra. That could be the death of her.

  Keeping her distance, Jenna walked to the side of Raden. Despite the cold, Jenna insisted they sit outside at the restaurant. It made for an easier escape. When the waiter came by for drinks, Raden waved a hand. Jenna asked for water and a menu. She needed food.

  “So why were you following me?” he asked.

  “I wanted to know what you were discussing with Deidra Willows last week.”

  “Deidra? You know Deidra?”

  She couldn’t tell if admitting she worked for her would be a good or bad thing. Decision time. She was convinced Deidra had fingered her for a cop, which would pretty much ruin her chances of ever working undercover again. Her dad would stick his fingers into her affairs to make sure that would happen since Captain Lucas and he were best buds. Deidra would never give her permission to explore the back, so what did she have to lose?

  “Yeah. I work for her.” No use using the past tense.

  “That so? Then you talk to her.” Richie stood up. She grabbed his arm with one hand as she reached into her pocket with the other. She drew out her badge and flashed it. Richie Raden’s eyes widened.

  He sat back down. “What do you want to know?”

  This guy had no record, held a fairly good job and could be on the level. “I’m not here to hassle you. There has been a rash of deaths lately, and I’m kind of afraid.” That sounded good. “I don’t want what’s been happening to other people recently happen to me, or to you.”

  “Such as?”

  “Theft, arson, rape, and murder.” No need to mention dismemberment, head bashing, and other assorted modus operandi.

  “For real?”

  “Yes.” Jenna held her breath, hoping he’d give her some piece of information to help with the case.

  “I haven’t done anything, so I got nothing to hide.” Richie scrubbed a hand down his face. “Just don’t tell Deidra I told you, okay?”

  She crossed her heart. “I promise.”

  “I, ah, asked Deidra to put a curse on someone—someone who raped my sister.” He flinched.

  The image of Carla being held down on the ground jumped into her mind. “Did the curse work?”

  She didn’t believe in curses, but maybe the rapist did.

  “Hell yeah it worked. The man ran into the wrong end of a bullet the next day.”

  If he knew that much, he must know the man’s name. “This bullet catcher got a name?”

  His gaze darted right, then left. “Yeah. Rodrico Evans.”

  Well, I’ll be damned. The man they found at Ballast Point. The pieces were coming together.

  Jenna faced Captain Lucas across his desk. He leaned forward on his elbows. “So you think the same person who killed the HOPEFAL guard, Harold, also killed the people in the cauldron?”

  “I have no proof, but my gut tells me, yes.”

  He scribbled something on a pad. “You learn anything more from your new boyfriend about who’s in the cauldron?”

  “He’s not my boyfriend, but yes. One set belonged to the sister of someone who works at the lab. The victim was Daphne Pendowski. She was a nun who was bludgeoned to death.”

  “A nun? Dear God. What are these people into?”

  “I have no idea. Sam is checking to see if the second set belongs to Franklin Manchester, since both he and the skull were about the same age.”

  “Did you tell him about your mom’s skull being stolen?”

  “No.” She leaned back in her seat not wanting to address her deceit or the pain. “I think you should send Rodrico Evans’s body to the lab so Sam can compare him to Creighton Jackson.”

  “Why?”

  She blew out a breath. “If the two have the same cut marks, we’ll know we have a serial killer on the loose.”

  He took a sip of his coffee and stared off in space, as though he were putting together everything she’d told him. “You thinking a nun bludgeoned to death and two chopped up men are related? How did the HOPEFAL security guard die again?”

  “Knife to the kidney.” She held up her hand. “I know the M.O.’s are different, but between the curse for Sam and the curse for Carla, I’m thinking the same person is responsible.”

  “Bring me proof. And bring Marlon up to speed if you think these cases are related.”

  “I already have.”

  “Good. Be careful. And don’t overtax yourself. I need you healthy. The last thing I need is your dad on my back because I let you work before you were ready.”

  “I promise to keep an eye over my shoulder at all times.” She stood.

  “One more thing. You said you saw a head floating in another cauldron in the back of the store. Did anything come of that?”

  “We can’t obtain a search warrant if the head’s some plastic decoy.”

  “You sure it was plastic?”

  “No.”

  “Then find a way to take another look.”

  “I already spilled the beans about being a cop to Richie Raden, the one who paid Deidra to put a spell on someone who raped his sister. I can’t waltz back in there.” She told him about Rodrico Evans, the corpse at Ballast Point, being the rapist.

  “Shit. We’ll talk to Raden. You think he had anything to do with the Evans’ death?”

  She shrugged.

  “You sure you can’t find some way to get into the backroom? With Deidra’s permission, of course.”

  “As soon as I learn to leap tall buildings.” Jenna rolled her eyes and walked out.

  She was sick and tired of running into brick walls. She prayed Sam had made some progress today. Being at the lab with him relaxed her probably because he never put any expectations on her to perform.

  Jenna flashed her temporary HOPEFAL badge that Phil has provided her with at the new guard and marched to Sam’s lab, frustrated the captain never seemed satisfied with her progress. Sam had provided her the code to the door, as well as a spare fob, so she wouldn’t have to disturb him every time she wanted to visit. As the door swung open, she spotted a near perfect woman bent over the metal gurney, her head practically touching Sam’s, and a jolt of jealousy jabbed her.

  They both looked up at the same time. Sam smiled. “Hey.”

  He must have suspected all was not right, for he peeled off his gloves, stepped around the gurney and wrapped an arm around her waist. Even though he’d been playing with bones, he smelled fresh, like a morning shower. Every muscle relaxed in his tender embrace. If only she could convince him he wanted her—in the biblical sense—all would be right with the world.

  Sam turned her around. “Jenna, you remember Lara Romano? She was a student of mine and has been a big help.”

  Super. The girl was everything Jenna wasn’t. Lara was tall, thin, had flawless olive skin and dark straight hair that snaked down her back in a ponytail near her waist.

  “Hi.”

  Lara ripped off her glove and shook Jenna’s hand. “Nice meeting you. Sam told me how much you’ve helped him with the case.” She had a slight nasal twang to her speech as if she was hard of hearing.<
br />
  What a crock. Jenna had done nothing to help, but she smiled in return. “So, what are you two working on?” Jenna glanced to Sam and kept her tone upbeat.

  “Just investigating all the bones in the cauldron.”

  Before she could ask another question, four beeps rang out and Chance hurried into the lab. After a quick introduction to Lara, Chance’s mouth pinched. “I’m looking for Carla. She’s not in her office and not answering her phone.”

  That didn’t sound good. Carla practically lived at the lab. “Did you check with the guard to see if she checked out?”

  His shoulders relaxed. “Good call. I don’t know the last time I’ve slept. I’m worried about her. We were up half the night talking.” He turned to Sam. “Maybe you can convince her to take some time off. She’s a nervous wreck what with the baby and the curse. She should be with her family right now.”

  Sam’s brows rose. Apparently, Carla hadn’t told him about the baby. “I’ll try, but don’t get your hopes up.”

  Chance saluted. “I’ll let you know if I find her.”

  Carla sat in the university’s student center, indulging in a large chocolate shake. Chance had made sense last night, but there was no way she could go home and face her parents. Not now, at least.

  “Miss?” A young woman shifted from one foot to the other.

  Startled, her muscles tensed. “Yes?”

  The girl handed Carla a folded note and dashed away. The slip of a girl was gone before Carla could push back her chair and chase after her. She glanced at the white envelope, and her hand trembled. The paper wobbled. Was it another curse? She couldn’t take much more. Holding food down had even become a chore.

  She took another sip of her drink to delay reading the message, but the cool, chocolaty drink did nothing to calm her nerves. She sat up straight and checked out the remaining tables. Two guys were laughing at a corner table. Had they been there when she arrived? She couldn’t remember. Her mind had been on the curse, on the baby...on Chance.

  A man who looked like a professor was on the phone, another guy with a hairy face was sipping coffee while reading a newspaper. No one seemed to notice her. Three girls huddled around a table, punching numbers in their calculator.

  Convinced the sender of the note wasn’t nearby, Carla peeled open the note.

  She read the neat handwriting. “I have a surprise for you. Meet me in the Campus Police parking lot.” It was signed, Chance.

  “Aw.” She couldn’t help but smile. Her birthday wasn’t for another week, but perhaps he wanted to give her an early gift. She grabbed her half empty drink and headed to the parking lot, and then cut across the grass instead of taking the path. Giving up a good parking place might be dumb, but her swollen feet made walking farther than a few hundred yards uncomfortable.

  Two minutes later she pulled into the mostly full police lot. Not seeing Chance’s car, she walked over to wooden bench and sat. The clear day and slight breeze lifted her spirits. She reread the note to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood. Wait a minute. How had Chance known she’d be at the food court? Had she mentioned something to the guard at the front desk? And why did Chance send a note instead of surprising her in person?

  Then again, he knew she loved mystery and intrigue. Cars whipped down the street seemingly unaware they were driving past the police station at unlawful speeds. She tried to relax, but the questions zinging through her brain wouldn’t let her. Sunlight shot through the leaves and warmed her face. She closed her eyes for a moment, dreaming of what Chance had in mind. Carla shifted in her seat and a hand clasped over her mouth and nose. She moaned and struggled, and her hands flew to her attacker’s hands. Oh, shit. She needed air.

  Carla tried to pry his fingers off her, but they didn’t budge. Her throat constricted and her vision blurred. Another surge of pain ripped through her as the sharp slice of knife dug into her back. He yanked her head to the side, and blackness engulfed her.

  16

  “Chance, stop pacing. I’m sure Carla’s fine.” Jenna said, even though she didn’t believe it herself.

  He stood still, his hands clasped behind his head. “Whit, the new guard, said she left over an hour ago. Why hasn’t she checked in?”

  “Maybe she had a doctor’s appointment and didn’t think to tell you.”

  He relaxed a bit. “Maybe.”

  Gina rushed in, her breathing ragged. “I just received a call from University Community Hospital. Carla’s been stabbed.” Her hands fisted as her sides.

  Chance gasped. Sam stiffened. Lara looked frightened. When no one moved, Jenna jumped up. “I’ll drive.”

  Sam turned to Lara. “Do you mind staying here?”

  Lara’s cheeks softened. “Not at all. Call if I need to do anything.”

  The four of them left and loaded into Jenna’s car. Given the hospital was less than a mile away, they arrived at the emergency room in less than five minutes.

  As the HOPEFAL representative, Gina went to find out about Carla.

  Chance pulled out his phone. “I’d like the number of a Robert Pendowski in Wheeling, West Virginia.” He slipped outside.

  Poor Carla. She’d be upset that Chance had notified her parents, but what choice did he have? If a relative of hers had been injured, she sure as hell would want to know.

  Gina came back into the waiting room. “Carla’s still in surgery.”

  Jenna sucked in a breath as a deep ache twisted her stomach. Sam looked worse than when he’d arrived. Carla was a dear friend of his.

  Sam’s jaw clenched. “Did they give you her chances?”

  “No.”

  “Who found her?” he asked.

  “Campus police. Can you believe she was sitting on a bench next to the station when the motherfucker attacked her? Excuse my language.” She shook her head. “Someone sure was arrogant to do this in broad daylight.”

  “I trust they didn’t catch the bastard?”

  Gina pulled out her notepad. “No. Officer Terrance McNally found her slumped down on the bench. At first he thought she was sleeping until he saw the patch of red on her back.”

  Chance returned, his eyes vacant as he sat down without saying a word. The difficult conversation with Carla’s parents must have put a strain on him. Sam settled next to his friend and relayed the information.

  For the next hour, no one said anything. No speculation, no outpouring of sympathy. Nothing. The pain ran too deep to express what anyone thought. First Harold, then Carla. Sam’s house had been set afire and his car damaged. Who was next?

  At three thirty, a man in green scrubs exited through the electric doors. “Are you relatives of Carla Pendowski?” He scanned the group.

  “Her family is in West Virginia. We work with her,” Gina said. “How is she?”

  The doctor’s lips pursed. “The surgery went as well as expected.”

  Bullcrappy. The doctor took so long to answer he must have been debating whether he should tell the group anything. Jenna wanted details.

  Chance leaned forward. “And the baby?”

  The doctor shook his head. “Unfortunately, she lost the fetus.”

  “Thank you for letting us know.” Chance’s voice came out hard. “When can we see her?”

  “She’s in ICU.” He glanced at his watch. “She should be in her room in about an hour. I’ll have the nurse let you know when you can visit.” He nodded to them, his face full of sympathy. His pager went off and the doctor disappeared back into the main hospital.

  His absence left a void. “So now we wait,” Jenna said. “If you three want to go back to work, I can wait here and let you know what happens.”

  “No way I’m leaving,” Chance announced. “Besides, you drove.”

  Her mind wasn’t functioning well at all. “There is that.”

  After what seemed like hours, a chunky nurse in a flowered uniform came up to them and asked who was here for Carla. All four of them raised their hands.

  “Ms. Pendowski i
s in her room. We can only allow two of you to see her—”

  Chance jumped up. “I’ll go first.”

  As it should be. The two seemed to have grown a bond as strong as she and Sam had.

  Sam stood. “I’ll come with you. Then we’ll let the girls visit.”

  Jenna didn’t mind. From the brittle way Chance held himself, he needed Sam’s support.

  With each stride Sam took, his legs grew weaker, but he forced himself to keep up with Chance. What if it had been Jenna on the bench instead of Carla? His friend’s face had paled the moment the doctor delivered the news, but now his steps were rushed.

  The familiar smell of antiseptic churned his gut as Sam remembered the last time he walked these halls. Jenna had been in the bed, cut and burned—because of him. Now it was Carla. Had her stabbing been a message for him? This insanity had to stop.

  Two chairs were positioned by the bedside. Chance sat in one, but Sam stayed back, letting his friend have time with her first.

  Chance lifted Carla’s hand and held it tight. “Carla?” he whispered.

  From the side, Sam noticed a single tear streak down his friend’s face. Empathy swamped him. Carla and Sam had developed a solid friendship, and now she barely clung to life.

  Carla half opened her eyes. “Hey.” She winced and Chance leaned forward.

  “What happened?” Chance’s Adam apple moved up and down.

  “I got your note. It said you wanted to meet with me.” One corner of her mouth lifted for a brief moment before falling.

  “Aw, honey, I never sent that note.” She wet her lips and Chance dropped her hand, reached for her water, and fed her the liquid through a straw. “But I wish I had.”

  “I know that now.”

  “Did you see who did this?”

  Carla coughed and Chance’s back stiffened. “No, I was facing the other direction watching for you.” She took another sip of water. “I didn’t hear anyone, but suddenly this hand came out of nowhere and covered my mouth and nose.”