Buried Evidence

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Buried Evidence Page 5

by Kellie VanHorn

She shivered, then glanced back at her mother’s trailer. “Is Mom okay?”

  Ryan frowned. “You screamed before I found her. But given what just happened, I’d say this was a setup.”

  “Mom would never—”

  “Not willingly,” he said grimly.

  Her breath froze in her lungs, and she started for the trailer, but Ryan caught her hand, pulling her to a stop. Electricity buzzed up her arm, even though he let go almost as soon as his fingers wrapped around hers. “Let me go first, okay? The coast is probably clear now, but just to be safe.”

  She nodded, furling and unfurling the hand he’d touched as she followed him up to the trailer’s front door. When was the last time he’d held her hand like that? It had been a long time, long enough that her insides shouldn’t be this warm. But there was no denying the security she felt standing next to him or how glad she was not to face this moment alone.

  The cheap screen door was long gone, leaving only rusty hinges behind. He stepped up into the trailer, gun at the ready, and motioned to Laney to wait. On the far side of him, a fluorescent light flickered over the sink of the narrow galley kitchen. Nothing moved.

  He passed out of her view, his steps echoing back to her off the indoor-outdoor carpet that had been too thin back when Laney still walked on it every day. The only way things had ever been repaired or replaced was if Laney did it herself. She still marveled at the fact that her mother had held down her job at the local discount store for this long.

  The waiting felt like an eternity, each second ticking by so slowly Ryan must’ve surely searched the entire trailer by now. From somewhere inside, his radio crackled to life, and his voice carried through the thin walls, speaking in acronyms and police code Laney couldn’t understand. But there was no mistaking the urgency in his voice.

  She launched herself up the steps and into the entry without waiting for permission. Familiar smells assaulted her nostrils—ramen noodles and rotting trash, polyester upholstery, and the faintest scent of marijuana, mostly covered up by her mother’s favorite, cheap vanilla-spice candles. She could be seventeen again, still trapped in this unbearable life with no way out. Her knees went momentarily weak.

  No, this isn’t who I am. God, You pulled me out of this wreck. She forced her feet to move, weaving through the narrow hallway past the kitchen and into the living room. A single lamp in the corner bathed the room in sickly yellow light.

  She froze in the doorway.

  Her mother was tied to a hard kitchen chair, her mouth gagged, head lolling to one side. Ryan knelt in front of her, cutting loose the ropes that held her to the chair. But the blood...so much blood.

  It pooled around her feet and beneath her hands, dripping from both arms as they dangled at her sides. Angry red gashes sliced across white skin on both wrists.

  Laney couldn’t stop staring, her pulse roaring in her ears. Her mother certainly wasn’t always mentally stable, but she hadn’t done this to herself. “Is she...gone?”

  “Laney, you shouldn’t be—” He turned, took one look at her face and pressed his lips together. “She’s still alive but losing blood fast. We need to get pressure on the cuts. Grab some towels?”

  She crossed the space to the kitchen and yanked two dish towels out of the drawer—exactly where her mother kept them years ago—then dashed back out to the living room to help Ryan ease Kim off the chair and onto the floor. She was frailer than Laney remembered, her hair more gray than brown, her wan face etched with deep wrinkles. Too worn for someone who was only in her midforties.

  Laney caught up one of the wrists, pressing the towel tightly against the wound to try to stem the flow. She glanced at Ryan as he did the same, but he wasn’t looking at her. His gaze had settled on the wall beyond her, where a narrow window looked out on the front when the curtains weren’t closed.

  To the right of the window, something had been scrawled, obscured by the semidarkness. She squinted at the words, made harder to read by the fact that they appeared to be dripping down the wall.

  “Laney...” Ryan’s tone sent a little shiver running down her spine.

  Was that...blood? Her stomach curdled.

  Ryan dug a flashlight out of his utility belt and flipped it on. The words popped into sharp clarity.

  I see you.

  FIVE

  Laney paced back and forth in the waiting area, her thoughts running in a million different directions. Her mother had been taken into a room immediately after the ambulance arrived at the ER, and two hours later, they still hadn’t heard anything. The delay was almost more than she could stand.

  As were Ryan’s attempts to get her to leave town before she’d even done a preliminary assessment of the remains. He sat in one of the waiting room chairs, one foot propped up across his other knee, occasionally running a muscular hand through his dark hair.

  “Look, Laney, this case has exploded beyond what any of us anticipated. What just happened with your mother—that was a setup to get to you. You, specifically. Somebody is after you, somebody who knows who your mother is and where she lives. This isn’t just about the remains anymore and what we might uncover. We need to book your flight now, and we’ll get those bones packed up first thing in the morning.” He dug his phone out of his back pocket and tapped at the screen.

  “Hold on.” She sank into the seat next to him, reaching to grab his wrist but stopping just shy of touching him. No reason to go there. “I’m not bailing that fast. We don’t even know how Mom is doing yet. And what about the investigation on the bomb? Don’t you need me to watch the security footage?”

  “I need you not to get hurt.”

  Something about the warmth in his tone and the way his eyes softened triggered warning bells. But surely he didn’t still have feelings for her after what she’d done. “Ryan...”

  He waved a hand impatiently. “This isn’t about you and me. I’d say the same thing to anyone we brought in on a case. The reason you flew out here was to help recover the remains. There’s no reason to put you in any more danger now that we’ve got the bones.”

  Of course his words made sense. That disappointment pricking at her insides related to the case, not to how easily he’d brushed her aside. She popped back up to her feet, nodding far more vigorously than necessary.

  “Good, I’m glad we have that cleared up. You should know the Smithsonian has given me clearance to stay as long as necessary, so I’ll be the one making the call about when I go. And I’m not leaving without taking a preliminary look at those bones, especially after what happened with my suitcase. What if somebody finds a way to blow up the UPS truck?”

  His lips pressed together. “I’m glad to see ten years hasn’t made a dent in your determination to have your own way.”

  Was he teasing her or lashing out? Did he truly think she was so petty, that she’d left him all those years ago solely to get her way? It was too late to find out now. She wasn’t going to reopen that can of worms. Far better to keep things casual. Distant.

  She shrugged. “When life throws obstacles in your path, you have to find a way to get around them.”

  Hurt flickered in his eyes, but she turned away. She’d loved him once with every fiber of her teenage being, so much she’d almost lost sight of what mattered most—escaping Sandy Bluff before she became permanently entangled. When the wake-up call had come, she’d taken it. Now wasn’t the time to second-guess that decision.

  The doctor’s arrival spared her more awkward conversation. His face was unreadable as he stood in the doorway, one hand holding a tablet, the other tucked into his white coat.

  Ryan stood, asking the question at the same time she did. “How is she?”

  “She’s in stable condition. We repaired the damaged blood vessels, and she’s starting her second unit of blood. In a couple of hours, she’ll be moved to the medical-surgical unit for observation, but you’re we
lcome to come look in on her now. We’ll need to keep her here for a couple of nights.”

  Some of the tension eased in Laney’s chest. Sure, she and her mom had never been close, but she felt terrible knowing someone had hurt Kim because of her involvement in this case.

  “You should know something else,” the doctor said, lowering his voice. “We found methamphetamine in her system, along with traces of other illegal narcotics. If she’s addicted, now might be a good time to consider a rehab program.”

  Laney gave Ryan a sidelong glance, but he hardly looked surprised. As they followed the doctor back to her mother’s room, he confided, “Officers will have to search the trailer. It’s a crime scene.”

  “I know.”

  “I wish they’d had a reason to do it fifteen years ago,” he muttered.

  Then I would’ve been a foster kid on top of everything else. She bit the inside of her cheek instead of saying it out loud. Her mother had been seventeen when Laney was born, and Kim’s string of poor choices had followed Laney like a mangy dog. Ryan meant well—he always had—but the only way to escape the shame of her upbringing and the mistakes of the past was the way she had done it.

  Leave, and never look back.

  Her mother was asleep, eyes closed, arms resting on top of a hospital blanket. An IV drip holding a bag of blood was hooked into one arm, and both wrists were bandaged. In the background, the monitoring machines blinked with each steady beat of her heart.

  Laney reached for the nearest hand, wrapping her fingers around her mother’s thin, cold ones. Forty-five, and she looked twenty years older. She’d made life harder with her choices, but for the first time, Laney couldn’t help feeling compassion for her. And the tiniest bit of respect, that her mother had not only seen the pregnancy through to birth but kept Laney with no outside support or help.

  Her throat clamped. Seventeen was far too young to have that kind of responsibility.

  Ryan’s warm hand on her shoulder pulled her out of her thoughts. “Can I pray for her?” he whispered.

  She nodded, blinking away the moisture forming in her eyes. If only her teenage father had been a man like Ryan, instead of a lowlife who’d pretended she never happened. “I’d like that.”

  * * *

  Stars filled the dark summer sky by the time Ryan escorted Laney out of the hospital. She’d been through a crushing twenty-four hours, and yet she remained as calm and determined as ever.

  “Are we heading back to the station?” she asked as they walked through the parking lot toward his car.

  He quirked a brow. “It’s nearly eleven o’clock at night. Aren’t you tired? Or starving? I’m starving.” His stomach growled as if to punctuate his words. Besides, even though they’d washed up at the hospital, they’d spent half the day in a bog.

  From the set of her jaw as he unlocked the car, food wasn’t a high priority. “I want to start my preliminary exam on the bones.”

  “I get that, but it’s been a long couple of days. You might miss something if you’re running on empty.” He opened the door for her before getting in on his side. “And my back is killing me.” The burn wounds had been dressed and well covered, but a whole day of work plus chasing that suspect had been harder on his body than he wanted to admit.

  “All right.” She let out a little sigh, lifting dark strands of hair on her cheek. “I’m a bit battered myself.”

  He turned on the ignition and pulled the car out of the garage, then headed down the main road. Sandy Bluff wasn’t exactly known for its night life, but there was a Steak ’n Shake that stayed open this late. A few intersections later, the red sign over a black-and-white awning glowed off to the right with its promise of shoestring fries, fresh burgers and milkshakes.

  “No way. This place is still here?” Laney asked as he pulled into the lot.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Some things never change.”

  Maybe it was risky taking her back to one of their old haunts, but there wasn’t anywhere else to get a meal at this hour.

  She climbed out of the car, a tiny smile tickling her lips. “Are we hitting Dairy Queen next?”

  He forced his gaze away from her mouth. “You can only hope.” Flirting... Why was he flirting with Laney Hamilton again? No matter how good it felt, it was a bad idea.

  He had every intention of holding the front door for her, like a gentleman, but she beat him to the handle. Probably her own way of declaring boundaries.

  She stopped so abruptly on the black mat inside the door that he nearly ran into her. “This place hasn’t changed at all.”

  “Our...” He paused. Maybe it was a stupid thing to say, but he couldn’t help it. “Our booth is still there.” The long one in the corner, where they’d sat with Jenna and Ryan’s best friend Ben. Sometimes a handful of other kids, depending on the night.

  Sometimes just the two of them, sharing a shake and fighting over the last of the fries. Ten years, and the memories were as fresh as if it’d been yesterday. Did Laney feel it too?

  “Look at that,” she said, shaking her head.

  He extended a hand, determined to put the ball in her court. “Pick us a table.”

  His heart sank just a little—foolish as it was—when she chose a table near the window at the opposite end of the dining room. As if she wanted to get as far away from the memories as she could.

  Laney propped open her menu, though he suspected she still had the whole thing memorized. She’d been able to recite every item verbatim, with the price, back when they were in high school. Always on a dare. Those little green hot peppers in the bottle on the table had a wicked burn, as he’d learned by losing to her more than a few times.

  The waitress trotted over, and something danced in Laney’s eyes as she glanced at him over the top of her menu. “I’ll have the double Steakburger, fries and a cookies ’n cream shake.”

  “And I’ll have the same.” A grin was trying to break out on his lips, and he gave in. “I thought you might have grown out of burgers and ordered a salad.”

  “Ha, never. Well, not at a restaurant anyway. I can make a salad at home.” She sobered and gazed at the empty tables. “Do you ever see anybody from high school?”

  “Stephanie married some old guy, a doctor, and moved away. Brittany and Todd stayed together through college, but he left her. She still lives in town with her parents and her daughter.”

  Laney held up a hand to stop him. “Forget I asked. Coming back here is like being on the set of Dr. Phil.”

  “It’s not all bad.” He paused as the waitress delivered steaming plates of food, along with tall, frosty milkshakes. “I still get together with Ben once in a while. And the guys on the force, they’re pretty great.”

  She squirted ketchup onto her plate, then took her time dragging a clump of skinny shoestring fries through the red sauce. “Did you end up going to the community college? Or did you go to one of the big schools?”

  He’d come this close to applying to Indiana University the year after she left. The thought that she might be only a few hours away, walking around campus, taking classes, dating other men...

  But in the end, he couldn’t do it. “I couldn’t leave Mom and Dad. Not with everything that happened. Two years of classes were enough to qualify for the police academy, and then I joined the force afterward.” He took a bite of burger, chewing in silence for a moment. Laney kept her eyes on her plate, as if she knew they were treading into territory she wanted to avoid. But they could hardly eat a meal together without catching up on some level. Finally he said, “It’s clear you’ve done well for yourself. Dad said you ended up at West Carolina?”

  “Yeah, for undergrad. I transferred after a year at IU. Their forensics program is excellent. Then I did an MA and PhD at Boston University. The Smithsonian hired me as a postdoctoral fellow a couple years ago.”

  “So, what you�
�re saying is you’re too smart to hang out with someone like me?”

  Her mouth hung open for a moment, until he winked.

  “Just messing with you.” When her cheeks tinged pink, he added, “But I am proud of you, Laney. I hope you know I’ve always been behind you, one hundred percent. Regardless of what happened between us.”

  He rubbed a hand against the back of his neck, suddenly aware of how uncomfortable he might be making their working relationship by spewing every thought that popped into his head. Because a lot had happened between them, and some of those things he’d take back in a heartbeat—like that June night before graduation. But it was too late to live in past regrets now, and apologizing would only make things worse.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled and took a sip of her milkshake.

  An awkward moment passed in which he could’ve cut the silence with a knife, until he thought of another question he’d wanted to ask. “Why’d you give up on nursing and switch to forensics?” Laney had always been top-notch at science, so it wasn’t a stretch, but she’d also always wanted to help people.

  She grew thoughtful for a moment. “After Jenna disappeared and I learned firsthand what it was like to go through a loss like that...I wanted a different way to help, I guess. To give other families answers, even if we couldn’t get them for ourselves.”

  He stirred the dregs of his milkshake with his straw. “Did you think maybe one day you’d be able to help us too?”

  “With remains?” Her lips tilted down into a half frown. “That possibility has always been there, but honestly, I never really thought we’d find her. Not after all this time. We still might not have.” After a pause, she cleared her throat. “So, the case... Tell me about the homicide and the man you convicted. What kind of possible connections are we looking for?”

  Relief took the edge off his nerves. Dealing with junk from the past was hard, but the case brought him back to solid ground. Facts and evidence and reports and data.

  “His name’s Ronald Wilson, fifty-seven years old, convicted of murdering a twenty-year-old woman two years ago. The body was found in the dumpster behind the gas station where she worked, though she’d been missing for several weeks before she was found. Evidence suggested she was killed elsewhere, dismembered and then dumped. His hair was found on the body.” He paused. “You sure you want to hear about this while you’re eating?”

 

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