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

Page 29

by Vella Day


  Hunter pulled into a pink and green one-story motel. Small cabins dotted the shore. “I thought you could use a little R&R after your experience.”

  “That sounds wonderful, but I wanted to work on skull #3. She’s not finished and I wanted to get her in front of the camera as soon as possible.”

  “That’s part of the surprise. Once we had proof that a serial killer murdered the women in the field, Jack Andries was willing to foot the bill for someone to finish the recreation. In fact, he found your old instructor from the FACES lab for the job.”

  “Kimberly?”

  Hunter nodded.

  “That’s wonderful. Now I know we’ll find #3’s identity.”

  Kerry was able to relax for the first time in months. Once Hunter checked them in, he carried their bags into the tiny efficiency. Clean, with a seaside motif, it was a perfect for a romantic getaway.

  “Change into something cool.” Hunter opened his suitcase and pulled out a pair of blue swim trunks. “I want to walk on the beach with you by my side.”

  Excitement rippled through her. “That sounds divine.”

  As she turned, Hunter’s cell rang. “Hi, Jack.”

  Now what did his boss want? If Hunter had to leave on another case, she’d scream.

  “No fucking way. You sure?” Hunter faced her, his brows raised to the sky. Then came a chuckle. “I never would have guessed.” A smile lit Hunter’s face.

  She mouthed the word, what, but Hunter held up a finger.

  “Sure, I’ll tell her.” He disconnected. “You will not believe this.”

  “What?”

  “Paul Dalton is a woman.”

  The wind through the palm trees, along with kids screeching on the beach must have made her misunderstand. “Did you say Dr. Paul Dalton, our resident killer, is a woman?”

  “Yup. Carla Pendowski, who’s a computer wizard at the department, researched Paul Dalton’s background once they saw he was missing his man parts when they checked him into jail.”

  Man parts? “It’s called a penis. You can say it.”

  “Yeah, well, anyway. Paul, or rather Paula, was raped as a child. She married at age eighteen to get away from dear old dad and was severely beaten by her new husband. As a result, she needed plastic surgery to repair the damage. Once under the knife, she decided to have facial reconstruction to look like a man, complete with a new brow ridge and a more masculine jaw.”

  “That’s amazing. What about gender reassignment surgery?”

  “She didn’t have that done. Only a hysterectomy and lots of testosterone shots.”

  “It makes so much sense now. She didn’t want other women to suffer like she had. My God, why didn’t she get help?”

  “We’ll never know. She hanged herself this morning.”

  Kerry gasped. “Part of me feels sorry for her too.”

  “Don’t. She/he was a vicious vigilante.” Hunter pummeled his fist in his palm. “I should have seen the signs. Dalton was small for a man and had the nicest hands. I figured that’s why he became a surgeon.” Hunter held up his large, meaty palms. “I could never hold a knife with any precision with these paws.”

  Kerry wanted him to hold something else. “I say we put Dr. Paula Dalton to rest and move on with our own operation.”

  Hunter dragged her to him and peered into her eyes, into her soul. “Sounds like a plan.”

  She wanted to strip him naked and spend the entire day in bed with him, but the thought of walking on the beach, smelling the salt air won. She’d have her feast later.

  After they changed, they stepped through the open sliding glass doors on to a small, cement patio. Hunter unhooked the metal gate and voila, the beach. Her bare feet sunk into the warm, fine-grain sand, and the wind whipped through her hair. Kerry closed her eyes, tilted her head to the sun, opened her arms, and inhaled the wonderful salt air.

  She relaxed and turned to Hunter. “I couldn’t be in a better place right now. Thank you.”

  His grin puckered his cheeks. “Come on. I have a proposition for you.”

  No way would he propose. Their courtship had been too quick. She expected a wall of fear to restrain her, but instead joy spread through her.

  Hunter got a glint in his eye. “Race you to the water?”

  “You’re on.” Sprinting as fast as she could, she fell farther and farther behind the speed demon. Naturally, he won.

  He grabbed her around the waist and spun her around. “We’ll have to get you in training.”

  “Riiight.”

  Hunter’s face turned serious as he gazed out to sea. Kids ran behind them, and then ducked into the water, sending sea spray their way.

  “I’ve been worried about Phil,” he said.

  Whoa. Not what she thought he was going to say. “So am I.”

  “This past week I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, about him, about us.”

  She liked the us part. “What about?”

  “If Phil doesn’t think his life has value, it’ll kill him. So he and I came up with a plan—and you’re part of it.”

  “Me?” He sounded edgy for some reason.

  “Phil wants to work, but he’ll be too frustrated behind his old desk. As chance would have it, Braham University called a few weeks ago and spoke with our boss. They said some philanthropist, whose wife and daughter had died recently, wanted to donate a state-of-the art forensic facility on campus. They need someone with a police background to run it. So Phil plans to interview for the job once he gets out of the hospital.”

  She smiled. “That sounds perfect for him. But you said I’m part of this. How?”

  “Whoever gets the top job will be in charge of hiring the best of the best. And you fit the bill. You can still teach, but Phil and I figured with your talent in 3-D modeling you’d make the perfect candidate for the forensic anthropology position. Given the nature of the lab, we figure there’ll be many skeletons in people’s closets that will need identifying.”

  “I love the idea. When I’m not teaching, I could help identify the victims; something you know is dear to my heart.”

  “And I would be there to protect you.” Hunter pulled her a few feet into the swirling water and the cool foam lapped at their ankles.

  She reached up and kissed him briefly. “Tell me more. Would we be working directly for the sheriff’s department, or what?”

  Hunter headed north along the beach, still holding her hand. “No. You’d be paid extra by this lab. The new owner understands if any faculty members are hired, they shouldn’t announce their moonlighting activities to Braham University.”

  “So we’d be working in secret?”

  “Kind of looks that way. The kinks haven’t been worked out yet.”

  Her mind raced with possibilities. “Would anyone other than law enforcement be able to access the lab?”

  “Most definitely. Any private citizen who wants the lab to work on a paternity case, cold case or whatever, could hire the lab—for a hefty fee, I might add.”

  “This sounds too good to be true. A state-of-the-art lab. We wouldn’t have to wait months and months for DNA testing.”

  “You got it.”

  “Well, count me in.” Anything to keep Hunter in her life.

  Hunter did a one-eighty and headed back to the hotel. “Come on. I have something better in mind than talking shop.”

  The hotel room brought relief from the sun, sand, and crowds. The moment they stepped into the cool room, Hunter pulled her to him and kissed her hard. Kerry still couldn’t get used to Hunter being such a free spirit. He’d always been so in control.

  He patted her on the butt. “I say we don’t waste water. Let’s shower together.”

  He didn’t have to ask her twice. He led her by the hand into the bathroom. The joy and excitement of being with him made her laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” he said, as he stripped naked.

  His erection stood at attention. The sparkle in his eye told her he was glad he
pleased her.

  “Nothing.” She ran her nail down his chest and twirled the tip along the head of his cock. “I’m just...” How could she explain this newfound glee? “Happy.”

  He grabbed her hand. “I think we better shower first before your happiness carries you away.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  He ran the water to heat it. Kerry stood there enjoying him move, the soft light bouncing off his muscular body.

  “Are you going to undress or what, Ms. Happy?” She didn’t move. “Here, let me help.”

  As he helped her pull down her bathing suit, she laughed. Hunter stopped the strip job and nuzzled her neck. “Hey, don’t get sidelined.” God, when was the last time she’d flirted with a man? Probably never.

  “Not a chance.” In a flash, she was naked, her sandy clothes tossed carelessly near the door.

  When steam spewed from the shower, they stepped into the stall and closed the glass door. The four-foot by four-foot shower barely fit both of them, but she wasn’t complaining.

  Her back to the water, she dropped her head and wet her hair, enjoying the pounding heat on her scalp. As she poured a palmful of shampoo onto her head, Hunter grabbed the soap and lathered first her shoulders, and then her hips.

  She giggled. “That tickles.”

  He looked crestfallen. “You’ll have to sacrifice for cleanliness.” He conveniently stopped his soapy hands on her breasts and scrubbed them thoroughly.

  Between the lavender soap, the lemon shampoo, and the delicious sensations coursing through her was almost too much to handle. Having more important things to do than worry about the knots in her hair, she quickly rinsed.

  Hunter ducked the soap between her legs, and Kerry perked up. She grabbed the bar from him before he excited her too much and ran the slippery soap first over his well-formed chest, and then over his rippled abs. “I think these may be your best feature.”

  He tossed her a look of mocked horror. “And not this handsome face?”

  She kissed him. “The face will do. Turn around.”

  After she lathered his back, he returned the favor. When their fingers wrinkled, they rinsed, touched, and kissed. As her tongue danced inside his mouth, his fingers worked magic on her sensitive G-spot.

  Her elbow smacked into the wall. “Ouch.”

  “Maybe we should try something a little safer.”

  “Like?”

  “You’ll see. I want more room to explore you properly.” Hunter reached around her and turned off the water. “This time, I want to go slow.”

  “I like slow.” Okay the truth. “I like fast too.”

  “You are easy.”

  “Only for you.”

  After they stepped out of the shower, they grabbed towels and dried each other off. “I can’t wait any longer,” he said.

  Hunter wrapped an arm around her waist and led her into the bedroom and onto the bed. He crawled on top of her, supporting himself on his elbows.

  He brushed aside a wet strand of hair. “You are an amazing woman, Kerry Herlihy.”

  “Ditto, Detective Markum.”

  He rolled off her and stroked her face. “When you were in that grave, I thought I’d lost you.”

  She’d been about to interrupt when he cast his gaze downward and his chin trembled.

  “I offered all my possessions to God if you’d be alright. Did you know that?” he asked.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

  Hunter placed two fingers on her lips. “I never thought I’d find someone who understands me the way you do. I can be a jerk or treat you like a princess, and you still are wonderful to me.” He brushed his mouth across her lips before leaning back again. “What I’m trying to say, and doing a bad job of it, is that I love you.”

  She’d waited a lifetime to hear those three words. “I love you too.”

  She wanted to hold him—forever.

  Without saying a word, he slid down between her legs and ran his fingers along the inside of her thighs. His tongue flicked her sensitive spot, causing her to nearly climax.

  Kerry dragged her hands through his soft air then ran her fingers over his muscular shoulders. When Hunter continued his assault, she climaxed more times than she had in her entire life. She explored his face and then his broad shoulders, angry she didn’t have ten hands to touch all of him at once.

  “I can’t wait any longer, Kerry.”

  Hunter crawled on top of her and eased into her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he let her set the pace. Her rhythm sped up and her breaths turned ragged. Someone moaned, but she couldn’t tell if the sound came from her or Hunter. Lost in her own world, the blood pounded in her ears and she let loose all her anxieties and all her anger toward those who’d wronged her. She loved Hunter with her whole being.

  Clawing his back, Kerry pumped her hips until he ejaculated, just as she reached another mind-blowing climax.

  “Oh my God, Hunter, that was amazing.” Kerry closed her eyes to catch her breath.

  He smiled. “Well, if you get pregnant, I hope you’re ready to name our son after my father.”

  “Our son?”

  “Okay, if it’s a girl, you can name her after your mother.”

  “What are we talking about here?”

  He looked at her like she was a dimwit. “I guess I suck at proposals, but if in a few months, you’re still able to stand me, I figure a nice little wedding ceremony in oh, Hawaii, would be nice.”

  She couldn’t believe her ears. “You want to marry me?”

  He laughed and hugged her. “Absolutely. I don’t want to spend another day without you. Been there, done that, and I didn’t like it one bit.”

  Hunter’s phone trilled. “Damn it.” He didn’t move.

  “Aren’t you going to answer it? It could be important.”

  He sucked her hard nipple. “If you insist.” Hunter rolled over and picked up his cell off the nightstand. “Markum.”

  He turned his back to her and spoke in hushed tones. She wasn’t sure she liked being out of the loop. After all, they were partners. Hunter dropped the phone on the nightstand and rolled over.

  “You won’t believe who that was.” He stopped for a moment. “I can’t believe I just did that. I sound like Phil. Let me rephrase that. Besides being able to spend the next gazillion years of your life with me, what would make you very happy?”

  She took a moment to think. “Finding the identity of our last Jane Doe.”

  “Well, your wish is granted. That was most likely #3’s mother. She’s positive the model is that of her daughter.”

  Kerry threw her arms around Hunter and hugged him again. “That’s the best news I could have gotten.”

  “I thought the best news would be if you got pregnant.”

  “That too.”

  He ran a calloused palm over her sensitive nipple. “Then I say we spend the next few years trying to achieve that goal.”

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  I hoped you enjoyed Kerry and Hunter’s story. Next up is Buried Secrets. Here is the first chapter.

  The smart moon had blanketed itself between two big, fluffy clouds, probably to keep warm. Jenna Holliday tugged close her police issue jacket wishing she could do the same. “Damn.” Florida wasn’t supposed to be this cold in December.

  From outside the closed cemetery’s gate, she peered in at the faintly lit mausoleum that housed her mom’s remains. “Hey, Mom. I just finished the late shift, which was why I didn’t make it in time for your birthday. I’m sorry.” Jenna leaned her forehead against the wrought iron bars, gripping them tight. “I know it’s late, but I wanted to talk to you. No, I needed to talk to you. I missed passing the exam to make detective by five freaking points. Can you believe that?” She huffed out a breath. “Dad will be ballistic when
he finds out. Not that I care.” She slapped her palm against the cold metal, the guilt of what she’d done so many years ago welling inside.

  Let it go. You were only twelve. You had to tell Mom you saw Dad with another woman.

  Keeping her gaze focused on her mother’s crypt a few hundred feet up the path, she stepped back from the fence and waved goodbye. She coughed into the sleeve of her jacket as she glanced around, hoping no one caught her talking to the dead. All clear. The lot was empty.

  A loud crash came from the other side of the mausoleum that sounded like rocks breaking. Jenna spun back to the cemetery. A flashlight traced an arc across the lawn. What the hell was going on? Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

  Not thinking about her safety, she hopped onto the hood of her car and scaled the six-foot high cemetery gate, landing onto the paved walkway. Ouch. Her sore knee screamed.

  Move. Halfway up the concrete path, more rocks exploded. Was that granite breaking? Ohmigod. They better not be touching Mom’s grave—or anyone’s grave for that matter. Her fingers shot to the gun on her hip.

  Someone cursed. From his high-pitched voice, it sounded like a kid. She darted down the middle aisle of the mausoleum, trying to make as little sound as possible despite her breaths coming out hard and fast. She plastered her back against the far wall before making her move. The biting wind whooped and howled down the corridor.

  “Let’s get out of here. We already got five heads.” The kid sounded scared.

  “No, dumb ass. We don’t get paid until we have seven.”

  They were stealing skulls? Not with her around they wouldn’t. She checked around the corner. Two teens, one blond and scrawny, the other beefy and dark, hovered over a coffin that was halfway out of the bottom vault with the lid partly off. The granite faceplate lay in pieces on the ground. Dear God. Half the coffins in the bottom row were out and exposed. The smaller kid had what looked like a king-sized pillowcase slung over his shoulder. She could take both of them if she had to.

  Jenna stepped into the open, her finger on her holstered gun. “Police. Put the sack down and get on your knees—both of you. Hands behind your head.” She counted the coffins. Her mother’s grave was sixth from the end. Dear God. They’d broken into Mom’s vault. Her stomach tumbled, but she kept her hand steady.

 

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