Buried Secrets_A dark Romantic Suspense

by Vella Day

  “I want something to cover my hands,” her uncle snarled, his voice softened by the closed door. “Make me look like a black man.”

  “I’ve never made hands before.”

  Bianca shook at his father’s weakness. He should tell her uncle he wouldn’t do any more work for him and to get the hell out of his house. She’d heard the threats her uncle had made against her and her mom if Dad didn’t do what he’d asked. The evil man would never get near her. Oh, he tried to act nice when he was around her, but she knew his sweet-talking was an act.

  “You can make masks. You can make hands. Do it.”

  “But—”

  The sound of the flesh meeting flesh twisted her gut. Her hands grabbed the door handle, ready to charge out.

  “I need to be able to walk around the lab without anyone taking notice. Every time that Jenna chick passes me in the hall, she looks at me, like she’s trying to remember where she’s seen me.”

  “She the cop who used to work for Deidra?”

  “Yeah.”

  A surge of hope made Bianca lower her weapon. Jenna might be someone who could help.

  The sounds of feet scuffling made her crack open the door. Her bedroom had a direct line of sight to the kitchen where her dad and uncle were talking, or rather arguing.

  “Why do you need so many masks?” her father asked. “Are you hurting people again?”

  By hurting, her father meant her uncle was killing people. She needed to stop this insanity before he came after her and her mom.

  “You don’t need to know what I’m doing with the masks, you understand?” He grabbed her father by the throat.

  She clutched the gun hard. Her fingers itched to pull the trigger and end his miserable life, but what would Mama do if Bianca landed in jail?

  “Okay, okay.”

  Her uncle’s face came within an inch of her dad’s. “If you ever breathe a word about who you gave these masks to, I’ll kill you. I don’t care that you married my sister. Got it?”

  Her father dropped back against the kitchen counter and nodded. Her uncle lowered his hand and stalked out.

  Bianca wanted to rush to her father, but she understood he’d be embarrassed that she’d witnessed the exchange. She slipped into her desk chair and booted up her computer. This Jenna woman shouldn’t be too hard to find. Bianca Googled the Hillsborough County Sheriff’s Department. Dang it. No Jenna appeared on the roster. Then she searched Tampa Police Department. Bingo. That was too easy. Well, almost too easy. The problem was that there were two Jenna’s. One was Jenna Holliday, the other Jenna Salvadore. One looked young, the other old. She did a Zabasearch for both addresses, and then printed out the directions to both houses before shutting down her computer.

  Bianca stuffed her gun into her backpack, pushed her hair from her eyes and stepped out of her room.

  “Hi, Pops.” She smiled, pretending she hadn’t heard her uncle come and go.

  “Where are you going? You haven’t eaten dinner. Mama will be home shortly.”

  “Didn’t I tell you? I have a big economics project due tomorrow. My group and I are getting together at Tessa’s house. I’ll pick up something on the way.”

  “Does your mother know?”

  No. “I think I told her.”

  “Don’t be late. And call if you’re going to be out past ten, okay?”

  He must have sensed the blood on his lip for he ripped off a piece of paper towel and dabbed it. She said nothing about his slightly swollen eye or bruised cheek. She leaned over and kissed his face. “I won’t be too late. I have to get up for school tomorrow. Bye.”

  She rushed out the door before he found an excuse to keep her home and jumped in her beat-to-shit Volvo. She couldn’t complain. Half her friends didn’t even have a car to call their own.

  Bianca tried to decide what she wanted to say to the cop, unsure if she should say that her uncle killed people or just that he hurt them. Too bad she didn’t have any proof nor had she ever seen him kill anyone, but she knew he was evil. She’d seen the blood on his pants one time when her uncle had stopped by. She had to tell the lady cop that he’d threatened to kill Jenna. That should make her interested in helping.

  Bianca motored down the two-lane country road, avoiding the main thoroughfares since the evening rush hour would slow her down too much. Lights blinked behind her. She looked up, but couldn’t see who was behind her. She glanced back at the speedometer. Since she wasn’t going over the limit, it wouldn’t be a cop.

  She eased over to the side of the road to let the impatient jerk get by, and the right side tires edged off the road onto the dirt. The car behind her sped up and came along side.

  She glanced over to see the age of the driver, but the person’s face was obscured by dark tinted windows. The sound of the gunshot registered first, then the pain in her head. Bianca’s hands slipped off the wheel as her legs went limp.

  22

  In the middle of a mind-blowing kiss with Sam, a knock sounded on Jenna’s door. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. They were making out in the living room, but she wasn’t close enough to see out the window. “I wonder who it is?”

  “It’s probably for me. It could be someone from the lab.” He nuzzled her neck, his musky scent driving her crazy.

  She giggled and ground her hips into his hard shaft. “You don’t really me need to get that, do you?” She slipped her hands down his pants.

  He gently extracted her fingers from his erection. “It could be important.” He brushed her lips and untangled himself from her.

  “Does the whole lab know you’re staying here?”

  “The important people do.”

  “Fine. Go answer it. I know you want to.” She stuck out her tongue.

  He turned back to her, his face turned serious. “Stay there.”

  Like she was going to run to the door and expose herself to whoever was out there? Fat chance.

  Sam peeked through the security hole in the door. “It’s the police.”

  Her heartbeat raced. Oh, shit. Would this person recognize her? Before she reached the hall to hide, Sam opened the door.

  “Is a Jenna here?”

  Crap. She spun around. Sam stood to the side and motioned the two sheriff department officers in. Thank God, it wasn’t anyone she knew. The man was tall and reed thin, and his partner was a petite Oriental woman. Neither looked older than their early twenties, which could account for why she didn’t know the two rookies. She hadn’t visited her dad at his department in years.

  Uniformed officers came to tell a family member a fellow officer was dead, and her stomach turned over. “I’m Jenna. Did something happen to my father?” She couldn’t think of any other reason they’d show up at her house.

  “Your father? No. We’re here about a Bianca Bello. Do you know her?”

  She took a calming breath. “I’m afraid I don’t know anyone by that name.”

  “She was shot and killed this evening. We found two names on the girl—yours and one belonging to Jenna Salvadore—along with maps to both of your houses on her front seat. We’ve spoken to Jenna Salvadore, but she didn’t recognize the name either.” The Ichabod Crane cop’s pen hovered over the pad.

  Jenna racked her brain to see if perhaps she’d covered a case involving Bianca Bello but came up blank. “I wish I could help. How old was she?”

  Jenna used to tutor at the local high school. Perhaps she knew Bianca from there.

  “Nineteen. She goes to Hillsborough Community College.”

  She shook her head. “Do you have an address for her? If I could speak to her parents maybe I can remember something.”

  Ichabod wrote down the address. Someone must have told him she worked for TPD, or he wouldn’t have given out the sensitive information. Thankfully, he kept his mouth shut. “Let us know what you find out,” he said.

  Jenna jotted down the officer’s name on the back of Bianca’s address. “Sure.”

  Once they left,
Sam placed a large diet Coke in front on her. She took a sip and stared off into space.

  He slipped into the chair next to her. “You remember something?”

  She glanced up at him and shook her head. “I have no idea why the girl would be visiting me. We didn’t even go to the same school.”

  “Tomorrow, if you want, we can visit the family.”

  Meeting with grieving parents sucked, but Jenna believed if Bianca had Jenna’s name, the young girl’s death might be related to the recent events. Jenna took another long sip of her drink, the cold liquid soothing her throat. “If the parents knew something, they would have told the cops.”

  Sam’s cell rang. He moved to the living room to answer it. “Bonita...Where?... Thanks.” He disconnected and slid down onto the sofa seat, his face drawn.

  Unable to get a sense of the conversation, Jenna waved to him. “Who was that?”

  “That was Phil. HOPEFAL did its weekly scan for bugs and found one in Carla’s office and one in my lab.”

  The ramification hit her hard. “So that’s how the killer knew so much. When we left for the hospital to see Carla he knew when and where we were going.”

  “He must have heard her order the pizza too.”

  “Which was how he knew to meet the delivery man.” It all made sense now. What didn’t make sense was the fact that the killer had targeted her and possibly Bianca. The connection had to be through Deidra. This case seemed to revolve around the diabolical woman.

  “Come on. It’s time for bed.” Sam stood and held out his hand. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

  “No kidding.”

  Jenna followed Sam into the bedroom. She yawned and stretched. “Did Phil ever say if the cops figured out who killed Creighton Jackson or Rodrico Evans?”

  “Not yet.”

  “We better come up with something soon before I’m next.”

  He wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  She bet Chance said the same thing to Carla and look what happened to both of them.

  Sam and Jenna drove to Bianca Bello’s parents’ house, but when they arrived only the father was at home.

  The Hispanic gentleman answered, his hands caked with some kind of rubbery material. “Mr. Bello?”

  “I’ve already spoken with the cops.” His tone came out flat as though someone had ripped out his heart. Sam could hardly blame the man for his depression.

  “We aren’t with the police. May we come in?” Sam flashed his HOPEFAL badge.

  Mr. Bello didn’t look at the offering as he waved them over to the kitchen table. “I don’t know how I can help you. My daughter is dead.”

  “I’m Jenna. Did the police tell you they found a slip of paper with my name and address next to your daughter when she was killed?”

  “There were two addresses they said.”

  “One belonged to Jenna here.” Sam nodded to the man’s hands. “Sir, I see you’re some kind of artist. What do you do for a living?”

  “I make latex masks for a costume company.”

  Jenna straightened in her seat. “Mr. Bello, do you know someone by the name of Joe?”

  He scratched his chin. “I know a few, but none who would harm my daughter.”

  The man’s eyes held steady, but Sam couldn’t quite decide how much to tell the man. “I have something in the car I’d like you take a look at.”

  Mr. Bello nodded and swallowed hard.

  Sam raced outside and grabbed the Manila envelope that contained the pictures taken off the surveillance tape. When he returned, two glasses of water sat on the table, one for him and one for Jenna.

  “Thanks.” Sam placed the picture of a man hurrying down the hospital corridor in front of Mr. Bello. Even the cops believed he was the one who’d set the explosion that killed Chance. “Do you recognize this man?”

  Mr. Bello’s face paled as he dropped his hands to his lap. “No.”

  “Look again, please. The man is wearing a latex mask.”

  “Many people buy my masks from the costume store. Ask them.” His lips pressed together so hard they turned white.

  “We will.” The fact he admitted the killer wore one of his masks spoke volumes.

  “You never said if you knew why your daughter was coming to visit Ms. Richman.”

  “I have no idea. Bianca was supposed to meet with her friend, Tessa, to work on an economics project for school. She said nothing about a Ms. Richman to me.”

  “What’s this Tessa girl’s last name?”

  “I don’t know. You can call the college. They might know.”

  Sam made a note to follow up. Perhaps Bianca had confided in her friend. He tossed down his business card. “If anything occurs to you, please give me a call.”

  The moment Sam left Jenna alone in the lab in order to check on some DNA results, she called Marlon Giombetti.

  “Hey, it’s Jenna. I only have a moment to talk, but I wanted to see where you are with the Creighton Jackson’s case.”

  “Funny you should ask. A neighbor, who was out of town for a few days, remembers a woman with dark hair going onto Creighton’s boat around the time of the murder.”

  Her heart sped up. “Deidra has dark hair.”

  “That doesn’t mean she killed him.”

  “True. Anything else?”

  “CSU was able to lift a partial foot print. The killer must have stepped in the blood. There was plenty of it.”

  “Did they dust for prints on the boat?” she asked.

  “Yes, but only those we’d expect to find were onboard.”

  “So, basically you have squat.” She inwardly groaned.

  “I wouldn’t go that far. This yacht neighbor said he heard shouting, but he didn’t think much of it at the time. He also heard Creighton doing some construction work but he couldn’t recall if it was before or after the dark headed woman left.”

  Construction? “Maybe what he heard was the sound of the saw cutting him up.”

  “Hmm. Even if that were true, that’s not what killed him.”

  Her hand squeezed the phone. “You know the cause of death?”

  “Gun shot, most likely to the head. No one saw the bullet at first, but when the cleaning crew came in, they found it lodged in a panel behind a multi-colored curtain.”

  The shot must have been to the head. “You need to send it over to HOPEFAL right away.”

  “Already sent it. You thinking the lab can compare it to another bullet?”

  Jenna dropped down onto the computer chair. “I can hope can’t I?” The same person who killed Bianca Bello could have killed Creighton Jackson, though that was a stretch. “Call me if you find out anything.”

  The moment she disconnected, the four tones sounded on the door. Knowing the killer wandered their halls, she ran toward the cooler, but she didn’t make it before Carla came in.

  Jenna’s hand shot to her chest. “I thought you were—”

  “The killer,” Carla finished. She waved a hand. “You’re a cop. Bring a gun to work. That’s what I plan to do, just as soon as I take some lessons.”

  “Shh. You haven’t mentioned my undercover assignment to anyone, have you?”

  Her brows pinched. “No. I take it you still haven’t told Sam.”

  “I’m waiting for the right moment.”

  “Do it soon.”

  Carla shoved a few rampant tendrils of hair behind her ear. “I did some searching on Creighton Jackson.” Carla’s brow shot upward.

  “What did you find?”

  23

  Carla pulled up a rolling chair next to the computers in Sam’s lab. “Sorry. I get tired real easy.”

  Jenna scooted her chair next to her friend. “I hear ya. I’m not even back to normal after the incident with the fire, and it’s been a while.” She leaned forward. “What did you find?”

  Before Carla had the chance to tell her anything, Phil rolled in with Sam right behind him
. “I called in a favor and had Bianca Bello’s body sent here since the State lab is too backed up to process her quickly. We needed to move on this case.”

  “Did you find anything useful?” Jenna asked.

  “Apparently, TPD found a bullet in the wall of Creighton Jackson’s boat. The bullet is a match to the one in Bianca’s head.”

  “That means whoever killed Creighton Jackson killed Bianca.” Was this case finally coming to an end?

  “That would be my first guess.” He turned to Sam.

  Jenna had been formulating a plan, but she was hesitant to bring it up. Sam would veto her idea immediately, but Phil might be an ally. “What do you all think of me trying to lure this guy out in the open? After all, he seems to be targeting me.” Okay, that was a stretch when one considered she’d never met Creighton Jackson or Bianca Bello, but her gut told her that these murders were related to her somehow.

  Sam slammed his hand down on the counter. No surprise there. “There is no way I’m letting you put yourself in danger.”

  She held up a hand. “Now wait. How about if I wear a wire, a bullet proof vest, and maybe carry a weapon.” She paused for effect. “I’m even willing to have a million cops follow me.”

  Phil edged toward the group. “I understand you’re concern, Sam, but Jenna may be our only hope here. I don’t know for sure who he’s killed, but someone blew up Jenna’s car and someone knifed Carla. Creighton Jackson didn’t cut his own head off. Given we suspect he might be an employee here, Jenna’s plan might work.”

  “A bullet proof vest won’t stop a bullet to her head,” Sam said.

  “I agree, but we have to stop him.” Phil turned to Carla. “I know you’ve been working with HR to come up with a match on this guy. Any luck?”

  “I’ve narrowed it down to three men who work here that might fit the bill. Jesus Soler, in pathology, is a lab tech. He could be our man. He knows how to use a saw to cut up someone. There’s one guy in maintenance, named Victor Nunez, and another in the footprint lab, by the name of Felix Cardoso. That’s assuming we’re profiling Hispanics.”