Buried Alive: A dark Romantic Suspense (The Buried Series Book 1)

by Vella Day

  Jamal rolled his eyes. “I think it was a plastic surgeon. She’d had to have some work done to her face and all.”

  “For what kind of procedure?”

  “Shit, I don’t know, man.”

  Hunter leaned forward and leered at him. “Try to remember. It could be very important.”

  “Don’t get your pants in a wad. Her ex-husband beat her up pretty bad. Got lots of cracks in the bones right around here.” He ran a finger down the right side of his face. “One cheek had become lopsided. Made her ugly.”

  Jamal was no looker himself. “Go on.”

  “She figured as long as the doctor agreed to do the work kind of cheap, she’d ask for a chin implant. Said it would help her self esteem. Hell, I was all for it.”

  Hunter looked over at Kerry who sat perfectly still. She’d grasped the hem of her blouse and bunched it tight.

  Hunter glanced back to Jamal. “How long ago was she injured by her ex?”

  “Maybe a couple months before we met.” Jamal slapped the table. “What does this have to do with anything?”

  Hunter wouldn’t answer his question. “Do you know the name of the doctor?”

  Jamal stretched out his legs and leaned back in his seat. “Hell no. I couldn’t keep track. Once she found a job that gave her health insurance, she was going all the time to dermatologists, eye doctors, you name it.” He waved a dismissive hand.

  “Where did she work?”

  “Wal-Mart.”

  Kerry straightened the photos on the table. “Do you by any chance have a hair brush she might have used? I’d like to compare her DNA.”

  “Lady.” He laced his fingers on top of his head. “I tossed all her shit out once she left. Her old lady might have kept her stuff. Ask her.”

  Kerry leaned closer to the computer for a better view of the image. Her desk sat in the corner of her lab and rays of the afternoon sun streaked across her screen. She’d scanned the pictures Jamal had lent her into Photoshop. Using the Transform Tool, she rotated and resized the images to match the size of the skull’s X-ray. One at a time, she laid the X-ray of Tameka Dorsey’s skull over each photo.

  “Crap.” Too many of the pictures were either blurry or the angle of the head couldn’t be corrected effectively.

  “Wait a minute,” she mumbled to herself. Two photos looked like they might line up, and excitement coursed through her. Using the arrow keys, she nudged the photo to the right. While the photo wasn’t a perfect fit, Kerry wasn’t ready to rule out she wasn’t Tameka Dorsey.

  Thank goodness she’d asked Hunter to reach Tameka’s mother for her daughter’s dental X-rays along with a hairbrush or toothbrush. Kerry needed just one item to extract her DNA.

  Tameka had no filings or crowns, which might imply she hadn’t gone to a dentist in a while. That could hinder the identification.

  Her cell rang. Her pulse quickened as she raced across the room to where she’d left her phone. “Hello?”

  “It’s Hunter. I was able to locate the dental X-rays and dental report for Tameka Dorsey.”

  Hearing his voice brought her relief. “That’s wonderful.”

  “The doctor’s office is on my way to your lab, so I thought I’d pick them up and drop them off.”

  How sweet. “I appreciate that, but don’t you need a warrant or something for them?” He’d only spoken to Tameka’s mom today. When did he have the time?

  “I had her mom sign a consent form for her release. You know, all that HIPAA stuff.”

  “Good thinking.”

  “Give me about fifty minutes.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  The wait to discover the identity of #1 was almost over. She might finally have a name on her grave marker.

  With her stress level lowered for a moment, Kerry sat on her chair and closed her eyes, hoping for a short power nap before Hunter arrived. She’d spent a restless night on his pullout sofa. Each little noise had woken her up. First, the air conditioning clicked on, then Hunter or perhaps Melissa, had risen in the middle of the night. Strange houses had strange creaks.

  At first she chalked up her sleeplessness to the fear of another intruder attack, but Hunter had insisted she lock the office door from the inside. That helped give her some peace of mind, but she kept imagining the creep crawling in through the bedroom window.

  Having Hunter down the hall only added to her inability to sleep. Her fertile mind conjured up all sorts of erotic scenarios. Did he sleep naked? What would he be like to sleep next to? Was he a cuddler? She figured her carnal thoughts had to be the result of anxiety since she’d never dreamt about a man like that before.

  A knock on the lab door roused her from her daydream. She bolted upright. Hunter walked in with a packet in his hands. “Power napping?”

  She must have left the door ajar. She swiped a hand over her eyes to clear them. “Sorry. I suddenly couldn’t stay awake.” Thank God, he couldn’t read her mind.

  “No need to apologize.”

  Hunter dragged a chair from one side of the room, sat next to her at the computer and handed her the information.

  When she fumbled with the clasp, he slipped the envelope from her fingers. “Let me.”

  In a flash, he’d pulled out the X-rays, and then passed them to her. Kerry studied the report. “No filings or crowns. We may have our girl.” She looked up and smiled.

  “Are you sure?”

  The report was sparse, but it did contain a single radiograph that spanned both the upper and lower dental arcades. “Give me a sec.” Kerry placed the dental X-ray over the X-ray of the skull. The tooth roots fit perfectly. “I’d say we have a match.”

  Hunter grinned. What she would give for a camera now. “Good job, Doctor Herlihy.”

  She prayed her beating heart didn’t show through her surgical gown. “Did you happen to ask Tameka’s mother the name of her plastic surgeon?” She needed to take her focus off Hunter’s handsome face and concentrate on her job.

  “Sure did.”

  “And what did she say?”

  14

  Kerry rushed back into her lab with a Tampa phone book she’d borrowed from the reception desk. “Knock yourself out.” She tossed the heavy tome on the desk and it landed with a thud.

  Hunter chuckled at her antics and looked up the number for Tameka’s surgeon. An expert in facial reconstruction, Dr. Paul Dalton was a renowned plastic surgeon.

  Hunter dialed the office in the hopes of setting up an appointment with Dalton.

  “Dr. Dalton’s office, how may I help you?” a sweet-voiced female answered.

  He asked to speak with the doctor, and she told him Dr. Dalton was doing consulting work at the River of Hope shelter. Could he call back tomorrow?

  “No problem.”

  Kerry looked up. “He wasn’t there?”

  “No. He’s doing charity work at the women’s shelter.”

  “Really? I admire people who give of themselves like that.” Her eyes narrowed. “Battered women need an advocate.”

  Had Kerry or someone close to her experienced abuse? “You know Jamal claimed Tameka had an appointment with Dalton the day she died.”

  Her eyes widened and her pretty face paled. “All the women we found were battered.”

  “I know.” Hunter let her sift through the facts. Sometimes another point of view could unearth a clue he hadn’t noticed.

  Kerry paced the floor, her paper covered feet making a soft swishing sound on the tile. “Okay. We know Tameka went to Dr. Dalton to repair her face. What about Janet Kopetski?” She spun around to face him.

  Her brows rose and her lips pressed firmly together. If only he knew for sure how these women had died, he’d tell her in a heartbeat. “What about her?”

  “Did she go to Dr. Dalton? If she did, and if both disappeared after their appointments then—”

  “Whoa. Who said they had the same surgeon? Besides, we have no idea when Janet Kopetski disappeared. All we know is that she’d cut her
finger sometime before her death.”

  “Then call Janet’s father to see if he knows who worked on her broken jaw and finger.” Her breath came out ragged.

  “Okay.” Hunter wanted to help these women too, maybe as much as Kerry, but right now, he wanted to help relieve Kerry’s anxiety. He’d never met a woman who cared so much for the dead.

  He flipped open his small notebook and scanned the pages detailing Norwood’s interview. “According to my notes, Mr. Norwood wasn’t in the know about his daughter’s medical issues.”

  “He did say that.” She dropped into the seat next to him. “He said he’d ask his wife.”

  Kerry touched his arm and heat shot straight to his groin, but he refused to admit his racing pulse was attributed to the fact Kerry stirred a long dead emotion inside him.

  “So he did.”

  Hunter admired her tenacity. Kerry leaned closer to him, and her scent shifted his focus to her as a woman instead of her as a professional.

  “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Hardly, a ghost, more like a goddess. “Nothing.” Heat raced up his face. He turned his head, flipped to Norwood’s number, and punched it in his cell. Thank goodness Kerry wasn’t a mind reader.

  Ten seconds later, the answering machine clicked on. Dumb move. He should have asked for Norwood’s work number when they interviewed him. He left a message regarding Janet’s surgeon and asked Norwood to call him back.

  “Let me guess. He’s at work,” she said, her shoulders sagging.

  “That would be my guess, but I don’t have that number.” He leaned back in the chair. “On a slightly different note, I did a little research on our charming Mr. Kopetski.”

  Wide eyes stared at him. “What did you find?”

  He cleared his throat, trying to keep his mind on the task at hand. “Seems Mr. Kopetski worked for the same financial institution as Janet for about six months. According to one of the coworkers, Kopetski was a hot head. He hated to lose money—his or his clients. He literally was in a fight with one of the brokers and got canned. It was about then he took out his frustrations on his new wife, Janet.”

  She flinched and Hunter’s gut clenched. Stupid. He should have delivered the news with more subtlety. Kerry was a woman of great empathy, which was one of the reasons he found her so attractive. But dammit. She dealt with ugliness everyday. He thought she’d be desensitized.

  “I trust the police have a record of his domestic violence against her?” she asked.

  Hunter was impressed with how fast Kerry picked up the pieces of the puzzle and ran with them. “Yes. As a matter of fact, the cops were called to his house twice during their short marriage.”

  Her lips firmed. “It’s hard to believe she would have put up with him after the first incident. What was the date of the last call?”

  Hunter flipped through his notebook again. “Shortly before she was arrested for embezzling funds.”

  Kerry’s face fell. “Oh.”

  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That doesn’t mean he didn’t harm her after she was released from prison or that Kopetski didn’t push her down the stairs for that matter. It just means she didn’t report the crime because she was dead.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “What I don’t get,” he said, “is the shelter connection.”

  “She might have done volunteer work there.”

  “It’s possible. I figured Janet would have had the money to pay for a good surgeon, assuming both she and her husband were pulling a decent salary.”

  “Maybe she went to Dr. Dalton’s regular office and paid like a normal person.”

  “Good thought, but why embezzle the funds if she could afford surgery on her own?”

  “Surgery isn’t cheap.”

  “True. I’ll draw a time line to make sure our dates and facts line up.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I don’t know why we’re even speculating. We don’t know if they had the same doctor.”

  “Knowing you, you’ll find out. When you do, don’t stop at the surgeon. See who the anesthesiologist was and other medical attendants. There could be a commonality there.”

  “You’re good.” He loved how their minds reinforced each other’s.

  Kerry shifted in her computer chair, and the metal leg squeaked. “Are you going to tell Jamal about identifying his fiancée or do you want me to call?”

  “I’ll call both him and Tameka’s mother and tell them we have a match.”

  “To be absolutely sure, I want to compare the DNA. It’ll take a few months to get the results back, but they should know I’m ninety-five percent sure it’s Tameka.”

  He snapped his fingers. “Tameka’s mom gave me a hair brush. I put it in an evidence bag and locked it in the cruiser’s trunk.”

  “Great.”

  He raked his hands down his face. “There has to be some way to tie Janet Kopetski to Tameka Dorsey. I wish I knew what I was missing.”

  Hunter wanted to wait until after Melissa had finished eating before he called Mr. Norwood again. He wouldn’t have to leave her with Jen if he could conduct business over the phone. Nothing gave him greater pleasure than to spend time with her. Unfortunately, his life was dictated by criminal activity, and Melissa often suffered because of it.

  He polished off the rest of his coffee while Melissa and Kerry had some foreign conversation about the newest clothing styles. They giggled, and he just kept quiet.

  When they finished dinner, Melissa and Kerry cleared the table and cleaned up. He was amazed. Every time Kerry asked Melissa to help her, his daughter beamed. She never pouted like she often did when he asked her to do chores.

  Damn. He should have looked for a mother for his daughter. Between his job and taking care of her, he hadn’t found anyone he wanted in his life or Melissa’s.

  From his vantage point at the dining room table, he studied Kerry bent over the sink washing dishes and Melissa carefully drying them. He shook his head, willing the blood to flow to his brain.

  Yes, he could have Kerry watch Melissa tonight should the need arrive, but he didn’t like leaving them alone. With a possible serial killer on the loose, there was no telling what might happen, and he refused to put his daughter or Kerry in harm’s way.

  Imposing on his sister was his only choice.

  He turned his back to them and flipped through the pages of his notebook to contact Mr. Norwood. Before he finished his search, his phone rang. Speak of the devil. He gave himself a psychic point.

  “Mr. Norwood. Thanks for calling me back.”

  “I have the name of Janet’s surgeon you asked for. My wife said he’d done a wonderful job.”

  Hunter waited a beat. “Who was he?”

  “Paul Dalton.”

  Adrenaline pumped through his system. “When was that?”

  “I don’t have the exact date, but it was after Stanton broke her jaw.”

  Hot damn. “Thank you, Mr. Norwood, you’ve been a big help.”

  He disconnected and turned to Kerry. “Dalton.”

  She turned off the water and faced him. “What about Dalton?”

  “Sorry. That was Mr. Norwood on the phone. He said Paul Dalton was Janet’s surgeon.”

  She smiled and pumped her arm once. “Yes!” Soapsuds flew off her hands. “I was hoping it was him. I thought it might make things easier, but I never expected our luck to hold up.”

  “Who’s Dalton?” Melissa asked.

  “He was a doctor who operated on one of my clients, that’s all.”

  Some day, Hunter would have to speak freely in front of her. When she was older, he wanted her to understand how cruel the world could be, but right now, he wanted to protect her from the underbelly of society.

  Hunter crooked his finger, and Melissa trotted over and climbed onto Hunter’s lap. He gave her a big hug and a kiss. “Why don’t you go boot up your computer, sweetie. I’ll send in Kerry in a few minutes and y
ou can show her the new game Aunt Jen bought you.”

  “Okay.” Melissa scooted off his lap and skipped out of the kitchen.

  Hunter twisted back to Kerry. “Considering Dalton did pro bono work, it makes sense he’d have dealt with women from different walks of life. Janet probably was quite poor after her release from prison. If Kopetski pushed her, maybe she sought out the shelter to get away from him.”

  “That makes sense.” Kerry tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and the soap clung to the side of her face. Cute.

  Hunter leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Dalton might know of a connection between the women. I want to speak with him.”

  “I’d like to come with you when you do.”

  “Why?” He couldn’t take any more chances one of his calls could turn deadly.

  “I thought I could show him the X-rays of my other two Jane Does and see if he recognizes them.”

  Her logic always cut through the best of his intentions. “You think he could look at an X-ray and identify the person?”

  She hesitated. “I bet if we described each of the women’s injuries, he might remember them. Besides, these women have been dead for six months to a year. You would think he’d have wondered why they never showed up for a follow up appointment.”

  “That would make sense if they’d had surgery right before their deaths. It’s possible Dalton could have treated them and not have planned to see them again once they healed.”

  “True.”

  Her pressed lips and slumped shoulders tugged at a vulnerable spot. “I’ll take the X-rays and show them to Dr. Dalton. You can write down all the information you know about these women and give him the rundown.” He smiled, hoping a little charm would convince her.

  Kerry’s hands shot to her hips. “Why are you shutting me out?”

  “Keep your voice down. Melissa’s down the hall.”

  “Sorry. I still think I should be there,” she whispered. The moment she stepped toward him he feared he’d cave.

  “I understand your passion for finding the identities of these women. I even admire you, but this is my case. I won’t put you in harm’s way for anything.” Please let her be reasonable.