Buried Secrets: A dark Romantic Suspense (The Buried Series Book 2)

by Vella Day

  After a series of turns down well-lit, concrete block corridors, Sam pressed several buttons to enter a room. The fresh cool air was spoiled by the unpleasant odor of formaldehyde and rotting bodies, partially masked by room aerosol.

  She listened a moment to the soft jazz. “Kenny G? I like it.” That wasn’t a come on. She seriously enjoyed the music.

  “I’m more into the classics myself.”

  Ah, one more difference between them.

  She’d been to the city of Tampa’s crime lab, but it didn’t compare to HOPEFAL. Every counter gleamed, and the room was bigger than the house she’d grown up in. “Nice digs.”

  He chuckled, and she liked the sound of it. “I think I could put twenty of my college offices in here. I really don’t need all this space, but I won’t complain.” He stepped over to a hooded region, looked inside, and flipped off a switch. “I won’t open this because the fumes will make you gag. But there lies your boss’ ex-beau.”

  She sucked in a breath. “You cooked him?” She peered through the glass at the large bubbling vat. Though she prided herself in her strong stomach, this grossed her out. Big time.

  Sam looked a little sheepish. “Had to. I needed to see the bones, and the soft tissue prevented me from doing a thorough examination.”

  Her admiration for him grew. “I guess someone has to do it.” She leaned forward and smiled. “Where’s this surprise you’re expecting?”

  As if her wish were her command, the door swung open. A tall black woman rolled in a good-looking guy in a wheel chair. On his lap sat something wrapped in pink shrink wrap, only the plastic hadn’t been shrunk. Motherofpearl. It was a cauldron, just like the ones the Santerians used to do spells. It was the type of cauldron she’d been looking for. With bones and sticks sticking out and everything.

  How the hell had HOPEFAL gotten a hold of this? And from where? Her fists clenched. This gave her one more reason to stick like glue to Sam Bonita.

  “Merry Christmas,” the man said. He then noticed her. “Who’s she?”

  Sam’s body tensed. Uh, oh. Jenna stepped between them. “I kind of forced my way in. I’ll go. I don’t want to get Sam in trouble.”

  The man waited a beat. “If you’ll excuse us then?”

  She needed to ask Sam out. More so now than before, but the window of opportunity was closing fast.

  “I’ll walk you out,” Sam said. Thank God for chivalry, or maybe because the doors were controlled by a fob.

  “Thanks.” She rubbed her palms down her side. Why was she so nervous about asking a guy out? She’d done it tons of times but standing next to Sam Bonita made her feel like she was fourteen again. Perhaps it was because the stakes were so high, or because all the men she’d ever slept with had a bicep measurement bigger than their IQ. Sam was different. He was smart, but not arrogant—a rare combination.

  Sam remained silent as he swiped his fob through several doors. Once they were in the foyer, the tour ended. “Be careful now.” His attitude came off cool but not angry. “And watch out for men trying to knock you down.” A long beat later, he smiled.

  Relieved, she leaned closer, acutely aware the guard could hear every word. “If you’re free this weekend, do you want to catch a movie or something?”

  To his credit, he took a good five seconds before he answered. “Sorry.” He nodded behind him. “Work calls. There’s no telling how long I’ll be with the witch’s brew in there. Once I start, I lose all track of time.” He studied her for a moment longer. “If you give me your number, I’ll call you once I come up from the deep.”

  A lie if she ever heard it, but it was better than nothing. Jenna pulled a scrap of paper from her backpack and scribbled her number on it. “Here ya go. Don’t be a stranger!” She tried to act cool, but from the way he avoided eye contact, her attempt to flirt fell flat. Sam Bonita was a straight arrow—a really cute straight arrow.

  He stuffed the paper in his pocket, and then headed back down the hall. She knew he’d never look at the paper again, and the rejection hurt.

  6

  Jenna slapped a hand on Larry Bernard’s desk. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He looked up, his mouth slightly open, acting as if he had no idea what she was talking about. “Oh, you mean about the cauldron?”

  “Yes, the freaking cauldron—the one with the bones inside. Bones that could belong to my mother.”

  He had the courtesy to look sheepish. “Pull up a seat. I’m sure the captain would have told you if he knew you were here.”

  “Ever hear of a phone or a text?” She nearly toppled the chair as she dragged it from a vacant desk. “Spill.”

  “Late last night, a call came in about someone spotting a person putting a witch’s cauldron in a storage unit.”

  “Where?”

  “At a facility on Dale Mabry Highway. Unit owner’s name is Christine Reynolds.” He held up a hand. “We contacted her, and she had a solid alibi for the time of the sighting. She said she’s the only one to have a key and keeps nothing in the unit but furniture and boxes of paper. Christine has no idea who had the key or why someone would put a caldron in her unit. I checked it out this morning, and what she said was true. We’re looking into the storage facilities’ workers now to see what they know.”

  “Who called it in?”

  “I have no idea. The call came from a pre-paid cell phone.”

  Untraceable. “Damn.”

  “The cauldron is over at HOPEFAL now. They’ll find out if the bones are human.” A sad smile filled his face. “Don’t worry. We’ll get your mom’s … your mom back.”

  Once her anger at Larry diffused, she thanked him for letting her know. “Keep me in the loop, okay?”

  He pointed the tip of his pen at her. “Promise.”

  The door to the captain’s office was closed, but the light was on inside. Voices sounded, meaning he wasn’t alone.

  Jenna leaned against the wall next to Lucas’ door waiting for his meeting to end. A smile crept onto her face. They’d found actual evidence. The cauldron might lead to finding the bastards who were stealing bodies.

  The captain’s door opened five minutes later and Richard Melmont, the head of Internal Affairs, strode out. Bummer. That would put Lucas in a not so good mood. She’d been about to step away, when her boss called to her. “Jenna?” He checked his watch. “I thought you’d be on your way to work.”

  He kept track of when she worked? Scary. “The store’s just a ten minute drive. Can I talk to you for a sec?”

  “Sure.” He stepped back into his office. “Did you learn something last night?”

  “Not yet.”

  “We need to tie Botanica to the thefts.”

  “I know.” She took a slow breath, not able to contain her news. “I saw the cauldron at HOPEFAL.”

  A spark of interest appeared in his eyes. “How did you manage that? The place is locked up tighter than Fort Knox.”

  He must not understand the power of female persuasion. “The forensic anthropologist working the case came into my store. We talked. He gave me a tour.” Kind of.

  He sat in his chair, pulled a file closer, and opened it. The photo of the cauldron was on top. “What was a scientist doing at a store full of superstitious crap?”

  She repeated how Sam had found out Creighton Jackson’s identity by his tattoo and had come to the store to speak with her boss. “Deidra used to date Creighton.”

  “Interesting. You tell him you’re a cop?”

  “Not yet.” She’d figure out later how to explain to Sam all the lies about school and lies about her job.

  “We don’t need an undercover person at the lab. They aren’t hiding anything from us.”

  “I know.” Now came for the hard part. “I stopped by to see if I could partner with Larry on this case. I think if the two of us work together, we’ll get results faster.”

  “He has got a partner. Sheldon Meyers. You know that.” He leaned back and wrapped his hands behi
nd his head. “What I need is for you to do your job.”

  “I realize that, but—”

  “Jenna.” She knew that tone.

  “Fine.”

  When her boss opened the folder on his desk and studied it, it was her clue to leave. Once out of his office, she looked inside her backpack to make sure she had the tube to test for blood. Though how she would work the cash register and find her way to the back for a sample while Deidra sat in her office was anyone’s guess. But Jenna Holliday, super sleuth, was no quitter. She’d figure out something.

  The ten-minute drive to Botanica turned into twenty. Either a hockey game or a concert must be drawing the people to the Channelside district, the area sandwiched between downtown Tampa and Ybor City. She had to park two blocks from the store and race to arrive there in time. As she rounded the corner, a large, casually dressed black man excited the front door and scurried into a beat-to-shit white car. Odd. The store wasn’t supposed to open for another fifteen minutes.

  Deidra stood at the door smiling. Now that was a rare sight. Deidra and smile didn’t go together very often. The woman was as stoic as a Puritan. Except she had broken down a little when Sam told her of Jackson’s death.

  Jenna’s boss glanced up and spotted her. Instead of waiting for her to reach the front door, Deidra flipped the CLOSED sign to OPEN and disappeared inside. Jenna brushed off the slight and took note of the customer motoring down the street. She squinted to identify the Florida license plate number, but he took a right so fast, she was only able to catch the first three digits: XMA something. Between the make and model of the truck, however, she should be able to identify the man.

  Slightly out of breath from the sprint, Jenna rushed inside. “You had an early customer?” That would be another first.

  Deidra halted. The once radiant smile evaporated. “He’s an old friend.”

  Couldn’t be that old. The guy was a good ten years younger than Deidra. “Okay.”

  “Excuse me.” Deidra waddled back to her office, leaving Jenna to open the store.

  Whatever. Jenna slipped to her usual place behind the counter and opened the cash drawer. Empty. Thanks Deidra. Now she’d have to disturb her for the cash, something Jenna didn’t relish.

  She tiptoed down the hall to Deidra’s office not wanting to be accused of being Big Foot. The door was slightly ajar. Deidra withdrew a wad of cash from her pocket and locked it in the safe. Whoa. Where had the much cash come from? If the man had purchased something from the store, the money would be in the drawer until closing time.

  Her recent customer/old friend didn’t appear to be flush with dough, if his crummy car was an indication. Oh, shit. She bet the dude paid Deidra seven fifty to do a spell. Not that Jenna had proof, but the conclusion was logical.

  Regardless, she needed cash for the till. After thirty seconds, she knocked.

  “Come in.”

  Jenna received a frown for the second time today. “Cash?” She held up the drawer.

  “Sorry. I forgot.” Deidra opened the safe but used her body to block the view.

  Jenna glanced over at the door leading to the mysterious back room. It looked like it was ajar. Deidra might have conducted some kind of business back there, and then forgot to close it. Good for Jenna, bad for Botanica.

  “Here ya go.” Deidra handed her the cash, and Jenna went back into the store. A guy dressed in tattered jeans and a big beer belly fingered the merchandise on one of the tables.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  He puffed out his chest. “Deidra hired me to work here.”

  No way. Had Deidra fired her but had forgotten to tell her? Or was he here to spy? On Jenna.

  “So, tell me about your cute new girlfriend.” Phil had wheeled into Sam’s lab so silently, he hadn’t heard him—or else he’d been too wrapped up in analyzing the bones to notice. Surely, his mind hadn’t been on perky Jenna. She was wrong for him, or so he tried to convince himself. She was too bold, too curious, and definitely too sexy. He was used to woman who wanted him to make the first move, though he had to admit, her assertiveness was refreshing. Just not right now.

  His face warmed. “I hardly know her.” The fact Sam didn’t have to ask which cute girl made him sound guilty.

  “Where did you meet?”

  Sam told Phil about how he’d found the identity of Creighton Jackson. “The owner of Botanica identified the tattoo as his.”

  “So Jenna’s a cashier over at Botanica, and she goes to school here part time.”

  “Yup. Given we need to find out the cauldron and its contents, I’m thinking she might be a source of information about the occult.”

  “Good thinking.” His boss scooted his chair up to the gurney. “Tell me what you’ve found so far.”

  Thank God Phil seemed willing to drop the personal digging. “I had Kirkpatrick fingerprint the cauldron and the bones before I sorted the pieces. I’m not expecting any prints on the bones themselves, but we might find something on the cauldron. If we do, Nathan will put the prints through AFIS.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.”

  “We could get lucky.”

  Phil grumbled something as he craned his neck to look at the find on the gurney. Sam pressed a lever to lower the table to make it easier for Phil to view.

  “Thanks. I see one skull and a skullcap. I take it we’re talking human here.”

  “Definitely. There may be more than two people, but I won’t know until I compare the bones with the skulls.”

  “Do you know how long ago these two died?”

  “I was working my magic when you can in.”

  Phil smiled. “How can you tell which bones belong to which body?”

  Sam drew an imaginary line across the gurney. “These seven bones are from the same body. Note the color. They’re different from this stack.”

  Phil waved a finger as if he suddenly recalled something. “Two sets of bones would be different colors if they were in the ground for different lengths of time.”

  “Or if the bodies were embalmed. The amount of formaldehyde would affect color. Bodies that are dressed in different material affect the bone color too.”

  Phil shifted in his seat. “Can you tell if these bones originated from bodies that were snatched from coffins or could the bodies have been dumped and left in the open?”

  “I haven’t gotten that far yet. It’ll take me days to figure out if we have a killer or a grave robber on our hands.”

  “Sounds good.” Phil wrinkled his nose as he looked into the cauldron. “Is that dried fruit?”

  “Banana, best as I can tell. I did a little Internet search and found some groups combine the elements when they do spells.”

  “Like wind, earth and fire kind of spells?”

  “Something like that.” He’d ask Jenna. She probably knew.

  Phil shook his head. “Still don’t get the fruit.” He pointed to the cup of red liquid and sniffed. “Is it blood?”

  “Yes. The bones were found floating in the stuff. I’m not sure if it’s animal or human. I sent a sample to Trace. “

  Phil sat back in his chair. “You aren’t much help today.”

  Sam couldn’t tell if Phil was serious or just yanking his chain. Then his boss smiled and Sam relaxed.

  “I’m trying.”

  “Well, you keep at it, Doc. Let me know what you find. Maybe you can write a paper on how Salem witchcraft came to Tampa.”

  “I just might do that.”

  Having missed lunch, his stomach grumbled, and he let his mind turn to food—a much safer topic than the mysterious Jenna Richman. She intrigued him, but call him old fashioned, he didn’t feel comfortable with a woman asking him out. His father had drilled into him all the roles men should play and being subservient wasn’t one of them. His mom had been such a doormat it might have provided him with a distorted view of the man-woman relationship though. What he did believe in was safety, and Jenna was a high-voltage live wire, the oppos
ite of safe.

  Then why couldn’t he keep his mind off her?

  Sam had spent the weekend grading his final exam papers and sending in grades. He’d called Dr. Hoffman and announced he was leaving the University to work in the lab. To Sam’s surprise, he actually seemed upset. Here he thought his boss was chomping at the bit to let him go.

  His lab door swung open. Gina Andries, Phil’s assistant, waltzed in carrying some X-rays. She handed him the folder. “Officer Larry Bernard is working a case involving the theft of bodies at Peaceful Sanctuary. Franklin Manchester’s body was stolen from there three months ago and TPD still has no leads. As you can imagine, his son and daughter-in-law are quite upset. We’re hoping his skull might be one of those in your kettle.”

  “I’ll take a look.”

  He expected Miss Efficiency to leave, but instead she leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. “It’s possible some of your bones came from the recent theft at Fairlawn cemetery. The cops are working on getting medical records of the six stolen skulls now. I’ll drop them off when I get them.”

  “Great.”

  Gina’s mouth looked more drawn than usual, but this case was getting to everyone. She tossed him a weak smile and left. No wonder Phil had hired him full-time. These thefts could keep him busy for quite a while.

  For the first time in days, Sam pushed the image of Jenna aside and focused on the first piece of good news. He’d already loaded the photos of the skull and skullcap into the computer. He now scanned the X-rays Gina delivered into Photoshop and dragged the first one on top of the image of the skull. He had to nudge the X-ray until the maxillary teeth lined up. At first glance, the two images appeared to be a match, but when he zoomed in on the teeth, they were slightly misaligned. The nasal width and maxillary prognathism weren’t quite right either. Damn. Maybe this did come from the recent theft.

  A small knock sounded on his door. Gina must have forgotten something. He waited for the musical sound of the keypad, but a second knock erupted, harder this time. He walked over and opened the door. “What are you doing here?”