Buried Secrets

by Carol Ericson

  “It’s on you now, Sam. You have to find the bones of those missing people out there to put a stop to the construction.”

  “If I do find those remains, it’ll halt the construction, but it’s not going to stop it—not like it would if it were a sacred Yaqui burial site.” He wheeled around the fancy cars in the driveway and rolled down to the street.

  “I know that, but if the project goes on hiatus, I’ll have some time to look around for clues to my father’s murder. Once that casino goes up, any evidence is going to be lost forever.” She sniffed and pulled one leg up to her chest, wrapping her arm around it.

  “I know you think something’s out there, Jolene, but the Pima County Sheriff’s Department did a thorough investigation.” He brushed a knuckle across her cheek.

  “There has to be more. What was my father doing out there that night?”

  “Maybe like you, he was searching for something that might put an end to the casino project.” Sam lifted one shoulder.

  “And maybe he found it.”

  He turned to face her, wondering if he should dissuade her from this line of thought or encourage it.

  “Look out!” Jolene jerked forward and smacked her hand against the dashboard.

  Sam slammed on the brakes before he twisted his head front and center. Melody waved from the side of the road.

  “What the hell is she doing out here, and how’d she get here so fast from the house?” Sam eased off the brake, and the truck crawled toward Melody.

  “She must’ve gone out the side of the house and bypassed the driveway, taking the shortcut to the road.” Jolene buzzed down the window. “Are you crazy, Melody? We almost hit you.”

  Folding her arms, Melody tucked her hands against her sides and approached the truck. She ducked her head and peered at them through the open window, her dark hair with the pink streak creating a veil around her face. “I wanted to come out here and warn you to stop nosing around the casino project, Jolene.”

  “Great. You, too? I already got that warning, loud and clear, but it’s not going to stop me. Something happened to Dad on that land, and I’m going to find out what it was before it’s all covered over with slot machines.”

  “You don’t understand, Jolene.” Melody glanced over her shoulder. “Anyone who asks questions about the casino winds up dead—and you will, too.”

  Chapter Eight

  As Sam pulled away from the side of the road in front of Wade’s driveway, Jolene adjusted her side mirror to watch Melody grow smaller and smaller.

  “What do you think about what she said? When we asked her, she couldn’t name anyone else who had died as a result of snooping into the project. Do you think she’s overreacting because of the snake? It really spooked her, but then Melody was always attuned to the old legends and myths.”

  “I hate to break it to you, Jolene, but Melody was drunk.”

  She tilted her head to the side to take in his profile. “Are you sure? She didn’t seem drunk to me. Didn’t smell drunk.”

  “Melody always favored vodka as her poison because it’s hard to detect on someone’s breath, but I saw the signs. You thought she was going to step in front of my truck because she was unsteady. Her eyes looked glassy, she slurred some of her words and...she was talking nonsense.”

  “You think so?” Jolene rubbed her hands against her bare thighs. “I wonder why she’s drinking again. She told me she’d been clean and sober for years.”

  “Drunks can lie—and I should know. I’d be happy to go to a meeting with her while I’m here.”

  “What if she’s telling the truth, Sam? Have there been any deaths associated with the casino project?”

  “You’re asking me? I haven’t been in Paradiso for two years.” He drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel. “But I can look into it. I haven’t heard about any murders, except those associated with the drug trade.”

  “They wouldn’t be classified as murders, would they? We can look for accidents, disappearances—I mean recent ones, not the ones you’re looking at.” She sat forward in her seat. “Where are we going?”

  “When I heard about the accident on the highway, I took off in this Border Patrol truck. I still have my rental car at the station, and I want to drop off this bag—” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder “—to see if we can get any fingerprints from the arrow. Wade would have a hard time denying he put that on your property if we lifted his prints.”

  “What about me?” She trailed her fingers along one arm that was showing signs of bruising from the airbag. “I don’t even have a car.”

  “Will your insurance company give you a rental? Have you even reported the accident?”

  “I was on the phone to my insurance agent one minute after I called 911 and two minutes after I crawled from the wash like some swamp creature, before you came on the scene. They’ll pay for a rental.”

  “This has been a helluva day, starting with the casino opening ceremony. Have you eaten anything since those few spoonfuls of chili you scarfed down at the ground-breaking?”

  “No, but our day isn’t over yet.” She dug her phone out of her purse, which was still wet from the accident. “We’re going to check out those deaths.”

  He pointed to her phone. “Does that still work?”

  “It was zipped inside my purse when I brought it to the surface with me. I used it to call 911.” She flashed it at him. “And now I have a text coming in from my insurance company.”

  “You could do a commercial for that phone. And when I mentioned looking into the deaths, I didn’t mean right this minute.”

  “No time like the present.”

  He grunted, which she took as agreement.

  She glanced at him as he made the turn onto the main street running through town. Was he agreeing to all this because he believed her, believed Melody or was he doing it to stay close to her? Did it matter?

  “All of this can only help your own case. You can’t go digging around private Yaqui property, a construction site, because you have a hunch. If we discover additional...irregularities with the casino project, we can delay it even further.”

  “Okay, we’re here.” He pulled up to the Border Patrol station and parked the truck with the other official vehicles.

  She had her own government truck with the National Park Service, but she didn’t use it for personal transportation, either. Rubbing the side of her head, she said, “I have work tomorrow.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You were in a bad car accident today. Call in sick for a few days.” He tapped his head. “Does that hurt?”

  “I do have a headache.”

  “So much for relaxing in a warm tub with a glass of wine.” He cocked his head. “You sure you don’t want to see a doctor?”

  She pulled at the door handle and said, “I want to get to the bottom of what’s going on at the property.”

  Once inside, Sam darted around the mostly empty office, preparing the snake and arrow for a fingerprint request and packing up his laptop.

  After Jolene called her boss at the Park Service, she wandered among the desks. She picked up a framed photo of Nash Dillon, his fiancée and their baby.

  “Have you seen Nash’s baby yet? He and his fiancée are adopting.”

  “I heard that and couldn’t believe it. I sort of thought he was a confirmed bachelor.”

  “The baby’s mother was murdered—involved with a drug dealer. Jaycee Lemoin, she was from Paradiso, but not while you lived here.” She put the picture down and sighed. “So much misery.”

  “I know about that situation.” He shoved his laptop into his case. “I’m ready to get out of here, but I need to eat and change, not necessarily in that order. If we go out, I need to change first.”

  “Can we pick something up or order in? I’m really anxious to see if there have been any other unexpl
ained deaths lately.”

  “Any others?”

  “Besides my father.” She leveled a finger at him. “And don’t start with me. I never believed he was killed by drug dealers. Why? He was on Yaqui land. Why would the cartels be out there?”

  “Good question.” He placed a hand over his chest, over his heart. “And I wasn’t going to say a word. There’s definitely something going on with that project.”

  “Y-you haven’t heard anything about the bones yet, have you?”

  “Nothing.” He slung his computer case over one shoulder. “You didn’t leave anything that can be tied to you, did you?”

  “No.” She put a finger to her lips and rolled her eyes toward the other agent on the phone.

  Sam called out to him and raised his hand. “Out of here, Herrera.”

  The agent waved them off and kicked his feet up on his desk.

  As Sam opened the door for her, he said, “I don’t think he was listening to one word we said, not that he could hear us.”

  “It’s better to be careful. I don’t want to be arrested for...illegally dumping bones.”

  He squeezed the back of her neck. “Nobody is going to arrest you.”

  “Desperate circumstances call for desperate measures, and that’s all I could think of doing to halt that construction short of sabotaging the equipment.”

  “That—” Sam beeped the remote for his rental car “—would get you arrested. Promise me you won’t do something like that.”

  “I promise. I’m not sure I would even know how to go about doing that.”

  “I’m sure you’d think of something.” He opened the passenger door for her. “Pick up or delivery?”

  “I’m okay with a pizza delivery. You?”

  “I’m so hungry I could’ve eaten that dead snake.” He slammed her door and opened the other side seconds later.

  As he pulled out of the parking lot, he asked, “Is it just because your father died there that you want to stop this construction? From everything I hear, it’s going to provide jobs. If there were any endangered species on that land or the construction was going to be a threat to any species, you’d know that by now, right?”

  “That’s right. The studies have been done. I even participated in them. Nothing’s going to suffer out there. My father was opposed to it because he wanted the desert to remain in its natural form, but even he recognized the importance of the jobs. I think he would’ve come around eventually. That’s why I can’t understand what happened. Wade and his cronies would’ve had a more difficult approval process had my father been alive, but I think even Wade knew my father would have given in eventually once all the studies came back.”

  “You think he might’ve been killed for some other reason?”

  She lifted her shoulders to her ears. She couldn’t explain her conviction to Sam. She had no facts, just feelings. “Maybe.”

  “Drugs.”

  “We’re back to that?” She pulled her phone from her purse and cupped it between her hands.

  “Because it makes sense, Jolene. He could’ve witnessed something, found something. There’s a reason the sheriff’s department came to that conclusion.” He tapped her hand. “Are you going to order that pizza?”

  “Do you want anything else? Salad?”

  “Basic pepperoni is fine or whatever else you want on it. I don’t need salad.”

  Sam pulled into the parking lot of his motel and cut the engine. “Do you want to come in? I’ll be just a minute.”

  “I’ll wait in the car and order the pizza.”

  As he hustled to his room, she phoned in their order for a large pepperoni pizza. Two minutes after she ended the call, Sam appeared in the parking lot, his green uniform swapped out for a pair of light-washed jeans and a dark blue T-shirt she just knew matched his eyes.

  He settled behind the wheel and asked, “Pizza ordered?”

  “One-track mind. Yes, I ordered the pizza. Let’s get back to my place so we can start our search.”

  “One-track mind.”

  As they drove past the scene of her accident, Sam rapped a knuckle on the window. “This is where your car went off the road. I can just make out the skid marks. That was a close call. What do you think of Wade’s response when you accused him of fixing your brakes?”

  “Deny, deny, deny.” She kicked off her sandal and wedged a bare foot on his dashboard. “I didn’t expect anything else, but I put him on notice. When are you going to return to the construction site? You’d better make a move before the powers that be discover the bones today don’t mean much of anything.”

  “I’ll make my way out there. Don’t worry about it.” He rolled up to her house and swung into the driveway. “Are you going to get yourself a rental car tomorrow?”

  She patted the side of her purse where she’d stashed her phone. “I’ve already made arrangements through text.”

  He parked the car, and she jumped out to search the porch before unlocking the front door. “No more presents.”

  She eased open the door, and Chip stuck his nose in the crack. “Yes, I brought Sam back with me. Don’t worry.”

  As Sam stepped through the door, Chip pranced around his legs, wagging his chocolate brown tail a mile a minute.

  How easy it was to be a dog. Chip could show his unbridled enthusiasm for having Sam back without risking heartache. It just wasn’t feasible to have unconditional love for someone, not if you wanted to protect yourself.

  And she wanted to protect herself against Sam.

  Sam hauled his laptop onto her kitchen table. “We’ll work here until the pizza comes.”

  “I’m going to feed Chip while you’re setting up. Are we going to be able to see all deaths in the Paradiso area for the past two years? I think that’s what we need to look at.”

  “We can do that.” He flipped up the cover on his laptop. “We can also search for Desert Sun Casino opposition.”

  “Good idea.” She ducked into the laundry room where she kept Chip’s dog food in a plastic bin. She scooped out two cups for him and brought his dish into the kitchen where she added some warm water to the kibble.

  She nudged his furry body with her knee. “You think you should be rewarded for bringing in that snake, huh?”

  Sam looked up from his computer. “He can have some pepperoni from the pizza.”

  “That’s not good for him. No wonder he lost a little weight after you...left.” Her voice hitched, and she balled up a fist and pressed it against her stomach. Chip hadn’t been the only one who’d lost weight.

  Sam made kissing noises in the air. “Aww, what’s the matter boy? Your mom doesn’t spoil you?”

  Chip turned his back on his food and trotted over to Sam.

  “Do you mind? I’m trying to feed him.” She gave a sharp whistle and shook Chip’s bowl before setting it down on the kitchen floor.

  Chip twirled around and made a beeline for his dish.

  Jolene eyed the bottle of red Sam had opened earlier, and then pulled open the fridge. “Do you want something to drink with your pizza? Iced tea, lemonade, soda, water?”

  “Water’s fine—and stop making goo-goo eyes at that wine and pour yourself a glass. Do you think the smell of alcohol is going to make me relapse?”

  “It’s not rude?”

  “Was it rude before when we were...dating? You drank then, and I didn’t have a problem with it. I’m further along in my sobriety now, and it’s even less of a problem.”

  She uncorked the bottle and plucked the wineglass she’d used earlier from the dish drainer. She poured half a glass, glanced at Sam hunched over his laptop and splashed in a few more gulps.

  As she filled up a glass of water for Sam, the doorbell rang, setting Chip into a frenzy.

  Sam hopped up from the table. “Settle down, Chip. We don’t wann
a scare away the pizza guy.”

  He got the door and paid the bill. As he carried the box to the kitchen, Chip went back to his own food.

  Sam dangled a plastic bag from his fingers. “Paper plates and napkins?”

  “I asked for those, too. We don’t need to worry about dishes on top of everything else.” She flipped open the box and loosened two slices from the whole. She plopped them onto a plate and put another two onto the other plate.

  “You can add a few more of those for me.” Sam rubbed his hands together. “Pizza from Mr. Pizza—one of the many things I missed about Paradiso.”

  “There’s no pizza in San Diego?” She loaded Sam’s plate with another two slices and carried the food to the table while Sam grabbed the drinks.

  He said, “There are some things in Paradiso that you just can’t get in San Diego.”

  She jerked her head around and raised her eyebrows. “You’re pretty slick, Sam Cross.”

  “Don’t get too full of yourself, Jolene Nighthawk.” He raised the glasses. “I meant the pizza and...Chip.”

  She placed his plate next to the computer and took a seat.

  “If you think I’m going to ruin my dinner by working, you don’t know how hungry I am.” He shoved the laptop to the center of the table and stationed himself in front of his food.

  He wolfed down one piece before coming up for air and taking a drink of water.

  Jolene swirled her wine. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone inhale a slice of pizza that fast in my life.”

  “Did I mention I was starving?” He plucked a circle of pepperoni from a slice on his plate and fed it to Chip, waiting patiently by Sam’s chair.

  “Hey! Chip doesn’t need pepperoni.”

  “Look how happy he is.” Sam patted Chip’s head, and then wiped his hands on a paper napkin. “Now that the edge is off, I can take a look at this database—over another piece of pizza.”

  Still seated, she scooted her chair around next to his. “Are these the deaths for the past few years?”