He eased the car onto the road and headed through a couple of stoplights out to the highway. It was late enough now that the traffic had dissipated and the roads were mostly empty. Darkness shrouded the surrounding hills and farm fields.
She’d always been the talkative one, and she broke the silence first. “Ryan...” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Somebody attacked me in the airport bathroom.”
What? Heat flooded his insides, and he gritted his teeth. He and his father knew this case would garner local attention, and any new evidence on a cold case could lead to danger if somebody got jumpy, but still... Letting out a slow breath, he adopted his most calm, professional tone. “Are you okay? What happened?”
She held up a hand, just visible in the dashboard lights, and turned toward him. “I’m fine, just a little rattled. It wasn’t an attack, really. More of a threat that I’d be in danger if I didn’t leave Indiana immediately. Airport security looked into it but couldn’t find the culprit. All I can think is that someone doesn’t want me on this case.”
Ryan gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. “I’m sorry, Laney. If I’d known, I would’ve been there to meet you at the gate.”
“It’s not your fault. But what’s this all about? Your father told me he’d fill me in once I got here.”
“Teenagers found bones in Waltman’s Bog two days ago, just east of the old Clapton place.” He paused, clearing his throat. Lord, why does this have to be so hard? There was no way to talk about their hometown without dredging up memories better left buried. He, his sister, Laney and their friends had traipsed through that same bog on more than one occasion in high school. “We found what looks like a human femur and possibly parts of a hand. Dad didn’t want to dig for more until you got here.”
“Were they clean?”
He nodded, his throat unexpectedly constricting. It wouldn’t take long for Laney to figure out what his dad was thinking. “They look old.”
Her hand went to her chest, and she turned away from the window to look at him. “Do you think...?” Her voice trailed away, and she paused for a long moment before continuing, “Do you think it could be Jenna?”
“I... Maybe. Dad thought we should bring somebody in to help collect the evidence.”
“And calling me was his idea?”
Ryan nodded. “He wanted somebody familiar with the area. With our city.”
With Jenna.
But had his father considered how hard this case might be on Laney? He glanced over at her. She still had her hand pressed to her chest, but her gaze had turned back to the passenger-side window. She stared out into the darkness and the intermittent lights from houses dotting the fields.
After a long moment, she pulled her hand away and tucked it with the other into her lap. He flexed his fingers on the wheel—anything to get rid of this urge to take up that slim hand into his own. The last time he’d touched her had been at the combined prayer vigil and memorial service, when she’d hugged him and said goodbye. She hadn’t even been able to look him in the eye.
“Your dad warned me he wanted to keep my arrival quiet,” she said. “Why?”
He let out a quick huff of air. “We’ve tried to keep the find as low-key as possible. Though, from the way local reporters swarmed the bog immediately, you’d think the kids called them before the cops. But it’s not only because of the possible connection to Jenna’s disappearance. Have you followed the news here at all since you left?” The last few words were hard to get out past the squeezing in his chest.
“I’ve heard a few things. More disappearances. A murder a few years ago. Mom said you caught the killer. I’d kind of hoped he was the one responsible for...” Her voice trailed away.
His sister. Maybe now, if they’d finally found her remains, they’d get answers.
“My family hoped the same. But here’s the catch,” he said grimly. “Ronald Wilson, the guy they pinned for three murders, didn’t move to Sandy Bluff until six months after Jenna vanished. He was on an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico before then.”
She turned a sharp gaze on him. “Then you already know he didn’t kill Jenna.”
“Right. But without her remains, we’ve never been able to figure out what happened to her.” His throat tightened at the thought of what Jenna might’ve endured. “Her death could’ve been accidental, like a hit-and-run. Or we could be looking at a separate murder.”
“Another killer? That person might be the one trying to scare me off before we figure it out,” she mused. “Or if the remains aren’t hers, we might have one more victim to add to your killer’s list. But then, why threaten me?”
“That brings me to something else. Wilson’s been locked up in Indiana State Prison for two years, and we haven’t had a disappearance since—until last week. Nineteen-year-old college girl, home for summer break. She vanished a couple days before we found the bones.”
“That’s awful. But if it’s been less than a week, there’s a chance she ran away, right?”
“We’re doing a full search, of course. But all our leads have already gone cold.” No family should have to endure what had happened to his. He’d joined law enforcement not only to follow in his father’s footsteps but because of Jenna. And yet they’d failed to protect so many.
His heart twisted as he took the exit for Sandy Bluff and turned onto the winding, narrow road leading to the small rural town.
“What about the possibility Wilson was framed?” She shivered, then rubbed her hands over her arms. “Maybe there’s still a serial killer on the loose.”
“Unfortunately, that might be the case.” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “If the remains in the bog are linked in any way to the latest disappearance or to someone with something to hide... That’s why we wanted to keep your arrival secret.”
“After what happened at the airport, I can see why.”
“I’m going to keep you safe, Laney.” He glanced at her, unable to ignore how vulnerable she seemed with her hands clasped in her lap. “You don’t have to worry.”
The lights from the dashboard reflected in her gaze. “I’m certainly not going to let anybody run me out of town. Not when we have a job to do.”
His lips tilted into a smile. She’d always been the strongest person he knew—maybe ten years hadn’t changed everything. The thought triggered an unexpected pang of loneliness as he stopped at a red light on the outskirts of town. Sandy Bluff’s roller rink, permanently shuttered a year after Laney moved, sat forlorn and decaying to his left.
He cleared his throat. “Dad booked you at the new Hampton Inn, right?”
She pulled out her cell phone, its screen filling the car with an eerie blue glow. “Yes, I’ve got the reservation information here.”
A couple of minutes later, he pulled the car under the canopy outside the hotel and shut off the engine. He and Laney climbed out.
He rubbed his jaw as he walked to the trunk. “Do you feel comfortable staying here after what happened?”
“I’ll be fine.” She flashed her cell. “The police department’s only a phone call away.”
After pulling out Laney’s carry-on, he set it off to the side and closed the trunk. “I know, but—”
Their only warning was a sudden sharp hissing noise from the suitcase. Adrenaline flooded his system and he yanked Laney’s arm, smacking her into the back of the car as he flung himself between her and the bag.
The suitcase exploded.
TWO
Laney threw her arms over her face, squeezing her eyes shut as flame and shrapnel shot across the back of the patrol car. The force of the blast threw both her and Ryan to the ground, and hard blacktop and shattered glass bit into her hands and knees through the thin fabric of her slacks. Her ears rang from the noise of the explosion.
Ryan’s arm lay draped over her back like a heavy weight. S
he pushed up to her knees, her head throbbing, and crawled out from under him. He didn’t move.
“Ryan?”
He lay on his stomach, face turned toward her, eyes closed. His back had borne the brunt of the explosion—patches of his shirt were scorched away, revealing the standard-issue flak jacket underneath.
She pressed trembling fingers against his neck, feeling for a pulse as a prayer stole swiftly from her heart. Relief flooded through her as she felt the steady throb of his heartbeat beneath her fingers.
Through the haze of smoke and burning debris, someone came running through the shattered doors of the hotel lobby. A woman, dressed in a tidy pencil skirt and blouse. Her mouth moved, but Laney couldn’t hear her words.
She shook her head, the movement sending pain lancing down her neck. The woman held up a finger as if telling her to wait and pressed a cell phone to her ear. More people moved inside the lobby now—curious travelers coming to investigate the explosion.
Someone threw a blanket over Laney’s shoulders, and she clutched it tightly with one hand, rocking back and forth as she crouched beside Ryan. He still hadn’t stirred. She traced a finger over his cheek, noting the texture of the bristly day-old stubble and the feel of his dark hair. Soft as it had been ten years ago. As if no time had passed, and yet so much distance lay between them.
Finally a sound broke through the rushing silence in her ears—a siren. First one, then another, then another. A cop car pulled up beside theirs, followed a moment later by a fire truck and an ambulance.
Thank You, Lord. Please let Ryan be okay.
She might want to keep a lid on the past and never see him again, but she wouldn’t ever wish more hurt on him. Not after everything he’d gone through already. Guilt coiled inside her stomach, but she shoved it aside. That part of her life was over.
From what her mother had told her about him going with his parents to church now, maybe he’d become a Christian too. Hopefully so—they needed all the optimism they could get in this line of work.
Footsteps pounded across the asphalt, and she recognized Ryan’s father right away. Same dark crew cut, now streaked with gray, same facial features that hovered between stern and ready to laugh. Though right now he looked only worried as he dropped to the pavement on Ryan’s other side. He glanced between the two of them.
“Laney?” When she nodded, he pointed at her head. “Your hair’s short.”
The same thing Ryan had said. She shrugged. Ryan had always been just like his father. No surprise he’d become a cop too.
Jim Mitchell laid a gentle hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “Ryan?”
His eyelids fluttered, and Laney couldn’t help letting out a little sigh of relief when his dark brown gaze focused on her face. “You okay?” he croaked.
“Still alive, thanks to you.”
He started to roll onto his back but stopped, wincing in pain.
“Don’t try to move, son,” Jim said. He stepped aside as a pair of EMTs lowered a gurney to the ground beside Ryan. They helped him onto it, stomach down to keep the pressure off his injured back.
As they hoisted him up, Ryan pointed at Laney. “She needs to be checked out too. Do not let her out of your sight.”
In the background, a pair of officers cordoned off the area to preserve the evidence while another spoke to the onlookers.
Jim climbed to his feet, offering Laney a hand. “Can you stand? You and I are going with him.” He nodded toward the retreating EMTs. “We’ll talk about what happened while they patch you two up.”
Her knees protested as she got to her feet, and her right leg ached from smashing into the car, but nothing felt broken. One of the EMTs jogged up to her, taking her other elbow and guiding her toward the ambulance. She and the police chief climbed in and took seats beside Ryan, who craned his neck to see them. “We shouldn’t have dragged her into this, Dad.”
Jim frowned. “If it wasn’t Laney, it’d be somebody else. But how did anyone know you’d be here? And what happened?”
“They knew what flight she was on,” Ryan said.
Whoever had threatened her at the airport sure hadn’t wasted any time. Staring down at her palm, Laney picked at a shard of glass embedded in her skin. The blast hadn’t been that big, but if she’d been closer to her suitcase when it blew...
“Stop,” Jim said, pulling her hands apart. “Leave it to the professionals. Now explain.”
It took only a few minutes to recount both the airport attack and the details of the explosion. “I’m just grateful I wasn’t standing next to it. I could’ve been in the hotel elevator. Or unpacking it in the room.” She sucked on her lip. “It’s like whoever planted it knew how long it would take me to get here and rigged the bomb to go off right when I’d be hauling my suitcase inside.”
“More likely they used a cell phone to detonate it at the exact moment they wanted,” Ryan countered, his voice muffled against the stretcher.
“They were watching us?” Somehow that thought was even creepier than the bomb.
“We’ll know more when we get the lab work-up,” Jim said. “But how did they get it into your bag? Did you take it on the plane?”
“Yes, from Dulles to Indy. But the plane for the flight down here was too small. I checked it at the gate.” She tapped her finger against her chin. “And then my bag didn’t arrive. A guy rolled it up to me at the baggage claim office.”
“Who?” Ryan asked. “Was it long enough it could’ve been the same person who threatened you?”
“Maybe twenty minutes later? He looked like an employee. The voice didn’t sound the same, but that could’ve been intentional.”
“We’ll need to check the security footage,” Jim said. “Both for Evansville Regional and Indianapolis.”
“That’s a lot of potential baggage handlers.” Ryan grunted as the ambulance jolted over a bumpy stretch of pavement.
“But how many of them could have a possible connection to me or to this case?” Laney asked. And how had word gotten out about her arrival in the first place? Of course, with local reporters already on the story, it probably wasn’t that unlikely.
Finally the ambulance rolled to a stop. The EMTs pulled open the rear doors and ushered Laney, Jim and Ryan inside. A nurse tended to her burns and cuts while hospital staff examined Ryan in another room. Other than some bruises and the glass fragments in her palms, she’d gotten away with relatively few injuries compared to what could’ve happened. She needed to thank Ryan for his quick action and the way he’d covered her to take the brunt of the explosion. That’s what had saved her.
In the waiting area, Jim had already made calls to get the security footage and the names of all the airline employees who could have handled her bag. The list was daunting, but Jim shrugged.
“That’s the nature of the game,” he said, stowing his phone back in his pocket. “It’s why we always have too many open cases and not enough manpower to solve them all. Hannah down at the precinct is already pulling files, and when you come in tomorrow, we’ll go over the potential suspects.”
They released Ryan an hour later, and she had to check her impulse to hug him as he walked out. Just because he’d saved her life didn’t mean they could revert to the old days. She didn’t want to do that anyway. Escaping Sandy Bluff had been the best decision she’d ever made, and she wasn’t about to take it back now.
Funny how that line she’d told herself for so many years suddenly felt like a lie.
Arms clasped across her stomach, she stood back as Jim looked Ryan over. The way his eyes glistened tugged at her heart, despite her best intentions.
“Glad you’re all right, son.”
Ryan, now wearing only a white undershirt with his uniform pants, held up the flak jacket and blue shirt he carried draped over one arm. “I’m afraid these have seen better days. But the jacket saved me from being roa
sted alive.”
She offered Ryan a tiny smile. “Thank you for protecting me.”
Something shifted in his dark eyes, making her breath catch. “I’ll always protect you, Laney.” The moment passed, and then he withdrew his gaze and turned to his father. “Dad, she’s not going back to a hotel. Where can we keep her safe?”
Laney opened her mouth to object but shut it just as quickly. They were right. Even she didn’t want to risk being alone in a hotel if whoever had planted that bomb came back to finish the job. Besides, she didn’t have a suitcase anymore or a means of transportation.
“She can stay with your mother and me.” Jim turned to her. “Mary’s always got a guest room at the ready, and she’d love to see you again.”
“Thank you, Mr. Mitchell.”
His lips quirked. “You can call me Jim, Laney.”
Right. She wasn’t a kid anymore. Old habits died hard. “Thanks, Jim.”
Staying with Ryan’s parents might not be ideal, but it beat the other options in town. Like her mother’s trailer—the thought made her throat clamp shut. Or even worse, Ryan’s place. The case alone would necessitate more time together than she wanted. No reason to compound the awkwardness with evening chats on the deck, if he had one.
But when they reached the Mitchell family home twenty minutes later, Mary hugged both Laney and Ryan tightly and insisted Ryan stay for the night.
“Laney can stay in the guest room, and you can take the sleeper sofa in the basement.” She glanced at Laney and shrugged. “I turned his bedroom into my sewing space.”
“Mom—”
“Don’t argue with me, young man. Your father told me what happened. Someone needs to look after you both.”
And then she eyed them in a way that made Laney squirm in her high heels. She could’ve been sixteen again, coming over for dinner before Ryan took her out to a Friday night game. Like Jim, Mary hadn’t changed much. A few more streaks of gray in the dark hair she always wore pulled back in a bun. A bit of extra chubbiness in her soft cheeks. But her mannerisms, her tone, the kindness radiating from her eyes—it was all still there, making Laney feel like she’d fallen into a time warp.
Buried Evidence Page 2