Buried Alive_A dark Romantic Suspense

by Vella Day

  “Call 9-1-1 again,” Hunter shouted as he straddled the grave and gathered her in his arms. Nothing gave him a higher high than holding her once more. Her warm body seared his skin. He planted kisses on her cold cheeks. “Kerry, can you hear me? Wake up, sweetheart.”

  Hunter stepped away from the grave, knelt, and wrapped her in his arms, thankful this maniac had used a coffin instead of burying her in the cold earth. Someone had drilled holes in the side of the wooden casket. Why? To give her air? Or to let the worms eat at her faster?

  It didn’t matter now. Hunter unpeeled the tape that covered her mouth, trying not to rip her skin. Removing the tape off her wrists would require him to set her down, and he wasn’t ready to let her go yet.

  John stood, the phone pressed against his ear. He covered the mouthpiece. “I have scissors in a kit in my car,” John said. Hunter didn’t care if the man was going to Mars.

  “Hey. Grab the blanket I used to prop up Phil’s head.” The damp air could give her a bad chill. Not only that, he didn’t want Kerry to wake up and find herself naked.

  Kerry’s face slowly turned pink, and joy raced through him. He stroked her face, her arms, and her hair, reveling in the silkiness.

  When John returned, he handed Hunter the rather wet blanket. At least it would cover her. John wiggled a small pair of scissors. “May I?”

  All Hunter could do was nod. His throat dry, he couldn’t take his gaze off her as John cut away her bindings. Poor Kerry. He couldn’t imagine the horror and fear she’d experienced at the hands of Steven Dalton.

  With much tenderness, Hunter kissed her lips. Her eyelids fluttered, but they didn’t open. Her breathing was rough and her skin clammy. Dear God, please make her whole.

  John Ahern stepped back and dropped to his knees. A low groan escaped his lips. His hand clutched his arm.

  “John? You alright?”

  The ME’s eyes widened as sweat popped out on his forehead. His breaths came faster and faster.

  “John?”

  Without a word, John Ahern sank on the ground and passed out.

  Hunter sat by Kerry’s hospital bed, never leaving her side, looking for any sign she’d awaken soon. An oxygen tube poked out of her nose, and the constant pulse of the air from the tube was slowly driving him crazy.

  Why wouldn’t she open her pretty leafy green eyes and smile at him? One smile. That’s all he asked.

  “Mr. Markham?”

  Hunter swiveled around. A tall doctor in green scrubs approached, his face devoid of tension. “Yes?”

  “I have an update on Dr. Ahern.”

  Hunter straightened. “How is he?”

  “He suffered a heart attack, but we’re monitoring him. He’s lucky you were there to call for help.”

  His friend was alive, thank God. “Thank you. When can I see him?”

  “We’re doing more tests. When we’re done, I’ll let you know.”

  Relieved John had survived, Hunter returned his attention to Kerry. She hadn’t moved or fluttered her eyelids since her arrival. He’d asked her doctor about possible brain damage, but all the man would say was it was a wait-and-see game. People buried alive usually had serious after effects. No matter what happened to her, Hunter would remain with her—for better or for worse.

  He was determined to stay until she awoke, until he heard her voice one more time. Too bad the adrenaline rush of finding her had depleted his resources. He craved sleep and food, but he wanted to be the first person Kerry saw when she came to.

  The hospital room door creaked open and Gina tiptoed in. “How is she?” Her mouth was pulled into a thin line.

  “The same. The doctors are running a tox screen on her. They figured she must have been drugged or she wouldn’t have been able to stay alive so long.”

  “The killer gave her a drug to slow her heart down? Why would he do that?”

  “The only person who knows that answer is, I believe, dead. I’m guessing he wanted her to die a slow death.” He couldn’t think of the horror any more. “How’s Phil?” Like he’d seen Kerry do many times, he crossed his fingers. It worked for her, why not him?

  She shook her head and pulled up the other chair in the room next to him. The cramped room grew smaller. The red eyes and red nose told him it was bad. “Is he...?” Hunter couldn’t say the word.

  “Dead? No. He’s alive. Barely. He came through surgery, but the bullet hit his spinal cord.”

  Hunter’s heart cracked. “Shit. What’s the damage?”

  “The doctors told me he’ll be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.” A giant sob erupted. He hadn’t realized she’d cared so much.

  Hunter dropped his hands in his head. “This will kill Phil, you know.” He looked up but couldn’t talk about the tragedy. The news would take time to absorb. “How are you holding up?”

  She shrugged. “I always knew police work was dangerous, but now I’m not so sure I want to be an officer anymore. Phil needs me.”

  Her statement surprised him. “You going to be his nurse or something?”

  “Maybe.” Her eyes shimmered with tears. Man had he misjudged her.

  Gina’s uncle, and Hunter’s boss, stormed in. “How’s Dr. Herlihy?” His breath was ragged. He clasped Gina’s shoulder but kept his gaze on the beautiful woman in the bed.

  “Still sedated.” Or at least he hoped that’s what was happening.

  Jack Andries’ jaw clenched. “Steven Dalton didn’t make it.”

  “I know. I wanted him to pay for what he did to Phil, to Kerry, and to whoever else he hurt.”

  “You’ll have to settle for the uncle.”

  Disgust filled him. “All we have on him is attempted murder. I want to nail the bastard for at least the first four murders. I know the SOB is guilty.”

  “We’re searching his place as we speak.” He squeezed Gina’s shoulder. “Phil’s asking for you.”

  Her face lit up. “How’s he—”

  “Awake, but don’t expect much.”

  “I know, but I was hoping with time, he’d have some feeling in his legs.” Gina lowered her chin, pushed up on the chair arms and said goodbye.

  Jack’s eyes narrowed for a moment before he shifted his focus to the floor. “Your sister’s informant died last night.”

  If possible, the weight on Hunter’s shoulders grew heavier. “I’m sorry—”

  “Don’t be. You did the right thing. Kerry’s alive. That’s what matters.”

  Hunter nodded, thankful Jack Andries left off the other half of the thought. Denise wouldn’t have come back to life even if he’d gone to the vagrant’s deathbed. “I wonder why he only wanted to talk to me?”

  “He wouldn’t say.”

  Jack stood. “Let me know when Kerry wakes.”

  “Sure.” If she wakes. A giant claw scratched at his heart. Hunter wanted to break down, but he dug deep to keep strong.

  Sun streamed in through the hospital blinds, waking him. Hunter sat up with a start, and his back protested from sleeping in a chair all night. Someone must have built a sand trap inside his mouth.

  Hunter grabbed Kerry’s hand and when he rubbed his thumb over her palm, a wave of emotion slammed into him. Kerry meant more to him than he ever could have imagined.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  He waited for his words to sink in, waited for her to respond to his declamation, but her chest rose and fell in an even manner, and her face remained devoid of color.

  His stomach grumbled. It wouldn’t do her any good if he couldn’t concentrate. He needed food and coffee. Or rather coffee then food.

  He stood and stretched out the kinks before checking in with the nurses’ station. He asked them to keep an eye on Kerry while he went to the cafeteria.

  The place wouldn’t win any culinary awards, but the hot java, hamburger and fries did wake him up—even at eight in the morning.

  On his way back to the room, he popped his head in Phil’s room. The thought his good friend w
ould never be able to do his job again sickened him. He tried to plaster on a cheery face.

  Phil’s eyes opened. “Hey.” His voice came out weak.

  “Hey yourself.”

  Gina and Jack stood. “We’re going to grab something to eat,” Jack said. “Visit with Phil a while.”

  Hunter appreciated the time alone with his partner. But what could he say to someone whose life had been shattered?

  “Rehab’s going to be a bitch, but you’ll be back on the force in no time.” That sounded lame, and he knew it the moment the words slipped from his lips.

  Phil shook his head. “No, I’m finished.” The dejection in his voice nearly felled Hunter.

  “We’ll find something to keep you busy.”

  He shook his head. “Gina said you found Kerry. Is she going to be okay?”

  Hunter understood the change of subject for what it was. Denial. “Yeah.” No way would he let on that she was still in a coma. Phil had taken a bullet for her.

  “At least my injury wasn’t for nothing.”

  “Hey, man, you saved her life. If Dalton hadn’t shot you, I wouldn’t have gotten the drop on him, and Kerry would be dead.”

  “I heard the bastard kicked the bucket.” Phil attempted a smile, but Hunter saw his partner was fighting for his life.

  “Yeah, you got him good.”

  They talked about nothing until Gina and Jack returned. Hunter was chomping at the bit to return to Kerry. “I’m down the hall, buddy. Yell if you need me.”

  They clasped hands, and Hunter raced out of the room before he broke down. Vibrant Phil would be no more.

  As he entered Kerry’s room, a female doctor with hips wider than the bed, bent over Kerry, her body blocking his view. Hunter bulled his way in. “Any change?”

  “See for yourself.”

  The tanker-sized woman moved, and Hunter nearly dove toward the bed. She was awake.

  Kerry looked up at him. “Hi.”

  His broad smile made his cheeks hurt. “Hey.” Hunter pulled up a chair and clasped her cool hand. “How do you feel?”

  “Feel? My head’s pounding, I’m starving, and I’m cold, but other than that, I’m great.”

  The look on her face made him burst out laughing. She smiled. No doubt about it, he’d found the woman for him.

  Kerry finally convinced Grandpa and Susan she felt well enough to go into work after doing nothing but rest for eight days. Her job at the M.E.’s office was over, but she wanted to come clean to John Ahern about bringing home #3’s skull. She knocked on John’s autopsy door, and then pushed it open. The cold blasted her. The man must have Eskimo blood.

  A Negroid male lay on the gurney. John had made a barn door cut in the corpse’s chest and was pulling the heart out when she cleared her throat.

  John looked up and smiled. “Give me a sec.” He dropped the organ on the scale, made a note on his hand recorder, and then pulled down his mask and removed his gloves. “So, you’re getting ready to leave us?”

  “Yes. Other than one woman’s identity, the case is solved.”

  “We’ll miss you.”

  “Same here.” Hunter had told her about John’s heart attack. “Why aren’t you home resting?”

  “Like you?”

  “I didn’t have a heart attack.”

  “Is being buried alive better for the body than what happened to me?”

  Clearly, she wouldn’t win any argument with him. She twisted her fingers together. “I have a confession to make. One that might cause me to lose my license.” Not to mention prison time.

  He shook his head. “Kerry, there’s nothing you could have done that’s that bad. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “I was so pressed for time that I brought home #3 skull to do a clay reconstruction and... someone stole it.”

  John walked over to her and took her hands. “Don’t worry. Hunter told me all about the theft.”

  Anger grabbed her. “He had no right to tell you.” So what if he chose cop rules over his relationship with her?

  “Hold on. He called this morning to tell me they recovered the skull at Steven Dalton’s place. She’s safe and sound in police lock up.”

  The relief caught in her throat was replaced with annoyance. Why hadn’t Hunter had the courtesy to tell her himself? “That’s wonderful.” She knew she sounded less than enthusiastic.

  “I think he plans on going on the news with the skull. Maybe we’ll get our ID yet.”

  “Not yet, he can’t. I only glued on the tissue depths markers. I need to put the clay on the face. I guess that will be my job for the next week.” Not to mention preparing for her classes.

  “Well, good luck.” Her mentor gave her a quick hug.

  “Thanks.”

  Kerry turned away before the tears came. She wasn’t so much upset because she was leaving this office, because she could visit, but losing Hunter... He hadn’t trusted her enough to share his find. He knew she worried about going to jail, so why hadn’t he called?

  Sure, he’d phoned once or twice this past week and asked how she was feeling, but now the threat of the killer was gone, he’d practically disappeared. She thought they’d had something special. What a fool she’d been.

  She punched in the code for her lab door, left it ajar to air out the place, and dragged herself over to her chair. The sterile room looked as lifeless as her soul.

  The bright lights hurt her eyes. She’d miss this place, but not the trauma. Teaching, at least, would be a safer job than trying to find the victim’s identity.

  Safer, yes, but also more boring.

  And lonelier without Hunter.

  God, why did everyone abandon her?

  Her shoulders slumped as the lab door eased open. She looked up.

  “Hunter?” Her heart beat so fast she thought it might burst.

  He was dressed in black slacks, a fitted white shirt open at the throat and loafers. Loafers? Hunter wasn’t the loafer type. But man, did he look hot.

  “In the flesh.” His smile melted her heart. She pushed everything bad aside.

  He swung his right hand around as he came near. In his grasp were twelve blood red roses. He held them out to her.

  “For me? I thought –”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been busy thinking.”

  Before she could say anything, he lifted her up from the chair and kissed her. Wow. Her lips sizzled from his touch and his musky cologne nearly sent her over the edge with desire.

  “Hunter.”

  He grinned. “Save that thought. Gather your things.” His voice held a mystery.

  “What’s going on?”

  “You’ll see.”

  The depression that had taken over her was suddenly gone. In a flash, she picked up her brown satchel with her now clean tools along with her purse.

  Outside, the heat hadn’t relented, but at the moment, Kerry didn’t care if the temp shot up to a hundred and ten. Being with Hunter was all she cared about.

  He escorted her across the street and stored her gear in his trunk.

  “I don’t want to leave my car in the lot,” she said.

  “Not to worry. Susan picked it up an hour ago.”

  “Susan?”

  Hunter held open her door. “Your sister. She even packed a bag for you.”

  “A bag?” Why did she keep repeating everything he said? Kerry slid onto the passenger seat not comprehending what was happening. Hunter jumped in and jabbed the key in the ignition.

  Kerry wanted to clear the air between them. “Dr. A told me you found #3’s skull. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I wanted to surprise you.”

  “Surprise me?”

  He pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the Interstate. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

  Trust. There was that word again.

  31

  After a wonderful lunch at a restaurant overlooking the Gulf of Mexico, Hunter headed further south toward Siesta Key. Wi
ndswept trees and colorful plants, abloom with pinks, oranges and yellows surrounded the homes that faced the Gulf.

  Natural, beautiful, serene.

  “Where are we going?” Kerry asked for the umpteenth time. She hadn’t been able to contain her excitement ever since he’d picked her up. No one had ever surprised her like this before.

  “As I said, it’s a surprise, but I will give you one piece of good news to help tide you over.”

  She wanted to smash him. “Tell me.”

  “When we searched Paul Dalton’s house and office, we found mementoes from the women he’d killed.”

  “Mementoes? Like what?”

  “Mostly jewelry. Something to remind him of the women he saved or so he claimed. I’ve been spending every waking moment meeting with the victim’s relatives and friends, trying to confirm the jewelry belonged to the deceased. Believe me, it wasn’t easy.”

  “Wait a minute. Paul Dalton admitted to killing those women?”

  “Saving those women, you mean? Yes.”

  That made no sense. “How did killing them save them?”

  Hunter pulled to a stop at a light and turned to her. “He said he and his older brother had been abused as children. Seems his father had an untimely death. Paul Dalton was never sentenced, but the locals are still convinced he killed his dad.”

  “Steven Dalton told me how his father, Paul’s brother, would beat him when his dad got drunk. He also admitted to killing his dad. Their stories sound the same.”

  “Abuse runs in families.”

  “In a way, I don’t blame either of them for killing their abuser.” The look on Hunter’s face made her hold up her hands. “I know that’s illegal, but I can see why he’d be pushed to murder. Abuse can destroy all sense of morality.”

  “I see you two bonded before he buried you.”

  “Not so much bonding—more like bondage.” God, what a nightmare that had been.

  The light changed and Hunter drove on. Kerry pushed aside the Dalton family saga. Instead, she marveled at the clean row of upscale shops and sidewalks lined with palm trees.

  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.”