by Rita Herron
Another body? Maybe Thoreau?
He inched toward the sound, eyes peeled for trouble. A rancid stench hit him, and he covered his mouth to keep from gagging. He yanked his handkerchief from his pocket, covered his mouth and breathed out. Then he forged on, shoving weeds and bramble aside as he plowed through the wooded area.
The smell grew more acrid as he neared the spot where the vulture circled. The trees were so thick it looked dark so he shined his light through the weeds, searching for Thoreau in the scrub brush.
His foot hit something and he stumbled, then looked down, half expecting to see another grave. A dead coyote lay at his feet, his insides mangled and spilling out.
Twigs cracked, the wind whistled shrilly off the mountains and the swish of brush parting echoed behind him. His fingers tightened around his gun, and he started to jerk around, but before he could, something hard slammed into the back of his skull.
A sharp pain wracked him and the world tilted, then spun. He fought the dizziness, tried to grab hold of a tree limb to keep upright, but another blow landed and his knees buckled.
He collapsed into the dirt, struggling to remain conscious. He had to protect Rose, warn her...
But the darkness swallowed him.
* * *
ROSE HEARD A NOISE, the sound of something thrashing behind her.
She’d left Maddox standing by the grave, but she couldn’t see him now. Suddenly nervous, she turned and scanned the area. He was probably continuing his search.
Just the thought of the remains he’d discovered made her shudder with fear and revulsion. Another noise jerked her attention to the left, and she saw a deer running through the woods.
A deep sigh of relief escaped her, and she told herself she was being paranoid. Still, she couldn’t see Maddox, so she walked toward the grave, calling Maddox’s name again.
Leaves rustled, and she stumbled over a tree stump as she hurried her pace. She had to find Maddox. He wouldn’t leave her out here alone.
But the air behind her suddenly changed, and she felt someone behind her. Praying it was Maddox, she started to whirl around, but a hard whack on her head sent her to the ground. She caught herself with her hands, her knees slamming into a rock, the world turning to gray as two hands grabbed her and a fist slammed against the side of her head.
She tried to scream, but the sound died as she fell face-first into the dirt.
She struggled to keep from passing out, but she was too weak and disoriented to move. Her attacker grabbed her under the arms, and dragged her through the bramble. Weeds and dry grass clawed at her body, rocks gouging her, a trickle of blood seeping down her forehead.
She tried to fight, but she couldn’t make her limbs work, and she couldn’t see anything but the distant fog of trees passing and the wings of a vulture swooping down as if it was diving for her.
They crossed the driveway, the gravel and rocks beating at her as he continued to drag her, then a creaking sound echoed above the howl of the wind. He released her for just a second, and she struggled to roll to her knees so she could get up, but he kicked her in the back, sending pain rocketing through her lower extremities.
While she was still trying to recover from the blow, he shoved her forward.
Dear God. The creaking sound had been the door to the storm cellar opening. She let out a scream, but he shoved her through the opening and tossed her down into the darkness.
She screamed again and tasted dirt as she fell on her hands and knees, then collapsed, her face hitting the ground. Terror streaked through her as she looked up and saw the skeleton in the corner.
Whoever had attacked her was going to leave her here to die in the dark, to rot like the dead man they’d just found.
A second later, a faint light spilled through the opening above. Then she screamed again, as Maddox’s body fell into the hole and landed with a loud crunch beside her.
* * *
DAMN ROSE FOR escaping the first time. She seemed to have a knack for that. She’d fought off Thoreau and then gone to the local sheriff.
The bitch had to die.
She had lived too long already.
With every day that passed, he feared her memory would return. That she’d recall where she’d first seen him.
Then she would destroy his family.
But he wouldn’t let that happen.
Rose should have died twenty years ago. She’d been a problem ever since. But now that he’d found her, he would extinguish the problem for good.
And his secrets would go with her to the grave.
Chapter Eight
Panic seized Rose. Blood matted the hair on the back of Maddox’s head. And he was so still...
The scent of decay and dank earth overwhelmed her, and she swallowed back nausea at the sight of the empty eye sockets of the skeleton. It seemed to be staring at her, accusing, as if she was somehow responsible for letting him rot away down here alone.
Had he been dead when he’d been thrown down here? Or had he been alive? He could have starved to death, grown dehydrated, tried to claw his way out until finally he realized no one was coming to save him.
She dragged in a shaky breath, her resolve kicking in. She wouldn’t just lie here and die.
She had to find a way to get her and Maddox out of this hole.
She listened for sounds that her attacker was still up there, but she didn’t hear anything for a second. Wiping dirt from her face, she pushed herself to a sitting position, steadied her breathing, and crawled over to Maddox. He was laying facedown, one arm flung above his head, the other by his side.
Her heart pounding, she pulled up the back of his shirt to make sure he hadn’t been shot. His back felt cool to her touch, alarming her, and his breathing was shallow.
“Maddox, please talk to me,” she whispered. “I need you to be okay.”
But he remained still, his body limp.
She ran her fingers along the wound on his head, gauging its length and depth. About three inches long, maybe a quarter-inch deep. He could use stitches, but it wasn’t deep enough to be life-threatening.
She ripped off the bottom of her T-shirt, tore a section from it and folded it to press over his wound to stem the blood flow. Then she tied the strip around his head, making sure to pad the injury and tighten it enough to hold the makeshift blood stopper in place. He moaned and stirred slightly, and she brushed his cheek with her fingers. “We’re going to get out of here,” Rose said in a hoarse voice. “I promise, Maddox. I’ll find a way.”
She gently shook him, hoping to rouse him. “Maddox, can you hear me?”
A low grunt and he moved one finger, but lapsed back into unconsciousness. Frustrated, she felt his jacket, searching for his phone, but she didn’t find it.
Panic set in. She’d left her phone in the car.
A surge of anger swamped Rose, and she stood on wobbly legs and ran her hands along the wall to the rickety stairs that led upward. She grabbed the rungs, splinters jabbing into her palms from the rotting wood as she pulled herself up onto the first one.
Slowly she climbed to the next one, blowing out dust that rained down through the crack above. Her foot slid and she almost fell to the bottom, but she managed to dig her hands in and hang on.
Another rung cracked, the wood giving way, but she latched onto the one above it and dragged herself to the next one. Two more, and her head hit the wood board covering the opening. She held on with one hand and pushed at the door, but it was firmly in place.
She shoved and pushed again, using all her force, but it wouldn’t budge. Then she heard a noise above her, and felt the door bow slightly.
Horror filled her as she realized the man who’d shoved her down here had just moved something big and heavy on top of the door to prevent their escape.
* * *
MADDOX GROANED AT the throbbing pain in his head. A hammer was pounding at his temple.
He tried to open his eyelids, but they felt weighted and so d
id his arms and legs. He heaved for a breath and inhaled dirt, coughing as dust clogged his throat. Where the hell was he?
He blinked to clear his vision, but it was too damn dark to see. The creak of wood splintering erupted, then a woman’s shriek punctuated the air. He slowly pushed up enough to turn his head in the direction of the sound and a sliver of light peeked through just enough for him to see.
Rose.
Reality crashed back as his memory returned. He’d found the remains of two people on the property, but someone had assaulted him from behind. “Rose?”
She pushed up from the ground and crawled toward him. “Maddox, you’re all right?”
He felt like hell, but he murmured that he was. “What happened?”
“Someone attacked me. He threw me down in this cellar, and then he dumped you here, too.”
The cellar? The skeleton...
Dammit. He lifted a hand and felt the back of his head. A rag was tied around his head. His fingers touched something sticky. Blood.
Rose stroked his hair from his forehead. “You’re hurt, Maddox. I tried to stop the bleeding.”
“Don’t worry about me, Rose. I’ve had worse.” He struggled to sit up. Rose grabbed his arm to help him, but his head spun, and he was so dizzy he had to lower his head in his hands for a few minutes until the feeling subsided.
Rose trembled beside him, and he forced his eyes open. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” Rose whispered. “Just a little bruised.”
“Did you see who attacked you?”
“No, he came up behind me,” she said in a strained voice. “I was standing by the creek, and I heard a noise and I turned to find you, but I couldn’t see you. Then I started to look for you, but...he came up behind me and hit me.”
Maddox hated the fear in her voice, but she had reason to be afraid.
“Did you see him?” Rose asked.
“No. He attacked me from behind, too.” He blinked her back into focus, his eyes finally adjusting to the darkness.
Her breath rattled in the tension-filled air. “I climbed the stairs, but I couldn’t push open the door. I think he put something heavy on it to make sure we couldn’t get out.”
Maddox heaved a frustrated breath, then reached for her hand and pulled her close to him. “We will get out of here, I promise.”
He raked his other hand across the ground. “My gun...do you see it?”
Rose crawled around to look for it, feeling the ground and then searching near the steps. “No. It’s not here.”
“Dammit, the bastard probably took it. How about my phone?”
“I already checked. Either he took it or you lost it up there. And mine is in the car.”
Anger fueled Maddox’s adrenaline. “I called the Cheyenne sheriff before I was hit, Rose. He should be here soon.”
“But what if he doesn’t find us?” Rose said in a panicked whisper.
Maddox squeezed her hand. “Listen to me. He knows I’m here because I told him I’d wait on him. He’ll see my car, and he’s bringing a team with him to search the premises as well as remove the skeletons. He’ll find us.”
* * *
ROSE FORCED HERSELF not to look at the bones in the corner. Maddox’s arms around her felt comforting, his calm voice soothing her fears. All they had to do was wait. Help was on its way.
Except as the minutes passed, she felt as if she couldn’t breathe. The dirt walls were closing in around her, the air was stale, hot, and reeked of a putrid odor. Death and decay.
“I’ve been thinking about that girl on the milk carton,” Maddox said. “And the reason Thoreau thought you were her.”
“It makes no sense,” Rose whispered.
Maddox exhaled. “Rose, is it possible you were adopted?”
Something tickled Rose’s leg. A spider. She hated spiders.
Frantic, she shook her foot, brushing it off with her hand. “No. I mean, I don’t think so.”
Maddox rubbed a finger along her arm to calm her. “What’s your earliest memory of your family?”
Rose closed her eyes, struggling to recall. “Christmas,” Rose said. “I remember decorating the tree with candy canes and watching my mom and dad string lights on our porch.”
“How old were you?”
“Four? Five?” Rose rubbed her forehead. “What are you getting at?”
Maddox ran a finger over the scar at her temple. “You touch that scar all the time. How did you get it?”
“I don’t remember,” she said. “My parents said we were in an accident, a car crash when I was little.”
Maddox seemed quiet for a moment. “You don’t recall it?”
“No. I had a concussion.”
Maddox cleared his throat. “You mentioned that you and your parents moved around a lot?”
“We did,” Rose said. “My father kept changing jobs.”
“Did you ever take on a new name?”
Rose shook her head, but the hair on the back of her neck prickled. “No. Why would you ask that?”
Maddox shrugged. “Just thinking about that milk carton photo and trying to figure out why Thoreau thought it was you.”
Rose’s stomach tightened. “You think I was adopted, that something happened to my birth parents?”
“It might explain things.”
“But the Worthingtons have pictures of me as a baby. Pictures of when I took my first step, ate my first solid foods.”
Maddox murmured a low sound. “Could you have had a sister that you don’t know about? Maybe a twin?”
Rose worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “I don’t know. Maybe.” Questions pummeled her. “But if I did, why wouldn’t my folks have told me about her? And why would someone want to kill me or that girl?”
“I don’t know, Rose. I could speculate, but I’d rather get more information first. Maybe Thoreau mistook you for another girl. If we find out who the girl on the milk carton was and why she was missing, it might lead us to the truth.”
“I guess I need to have a conversation with my parents.”
Rose twisted her hands together. But voices sounded above, and Maddox jumped up and staggered toward the steps.
He banged on the ceiling door. “We’re down here!”
Rose followed his lead and began to shout so the team above could hear them. But Maddox’s questions about her family taunted her.
Surely her parents would have told her if she was adopted or had a sister.
Wouldn’t they?
* * *
MADDOX POUNDED ON the board above them. “Down here!’
Dust fluttered through the cracks of the board as he beat on it, then a voice called out. “Hang on, we’ll get you out.”
Movement sounded above, and he coaxed Rose aside while the team pried the door open.
Seconds later, the board was lifted and blessed sunshine seeped inside. He took Rose’s hand. “Go on, Rose, you first.”
Rose allowed him to help her up the ladder, and he followed, drinking in fresh air as they climbed from the cellar.
“Sheriff Jarvis,” the big guy said as he tipped his Stetson. He gestured toward a young woman wearing dark glasses with her hair pulled back in a tight bun. “This is the medical examiner and state forensic specialist, Dr. Lail.” A younger man in a deputy’s uniform appeared, his thin face set in a scowl. A group of crime scene investigators piled out of a van. “And this is my deputy, Warner Rogers.” He gestured toward Maddox’s head. “Either of you need a medic?”
“No, I’m fine,” Maddox said, then gently touched Rose’s arm. “Rose?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m okay.”
But she wasn’t okay and they both knew it. She was terrified and they still had no answers.
Sheriff Jarvis crossed his arms. “Mind telling me how you came across these remains?”
Maddox sighed and explained about Thoreau.
“I was looking for him when we checked this cellar and I found the first skeleton.�
�
The sheriff motioned to his deputy. “Start searching the area. Let’s make certain there aren’t any other skeletons out here.”
Chapter Nine
Rose remained by the creek while Maddox, the sheriff and the crime scene workers began to process the area. They combed the property and woods, and searched in a four-mile radius up and down the creek bank.
Thankfully they found no other remains. Dr. Lail emerged from the pit, and yanked off her latex gloves.
“What can you tell us from your preliminary exam?” Maddox asked.
Dr. Lail adjusted her glasses. “The skeleton in the storm cellar belongs to a male, Caucasian. At one time, he sustained a bad break to his femur and has pins in his leg. I’ll let you know more after I examine the bones more closely.”
Maddox turned to one of the CSIs. “Did you find any forensics? A bullet casing?”
“Found a bullet casing indicating he might have been shot, some hair fibers, and a loose button,” the female CSI said. “We’ll keep you posted once we process them.”
Dr. Lail went to look at the remains they’d uncovered in the ground. Rose followed, her stomach turning.
“This body belongs to a female,” Dr. Lail says. “I say she’s been dead about the same amount of time as the man in that cellar.”
“Why bury one and leave the other body trapped down there?” Maddox asked.
Dr. Lail shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe the killer planned to bury both of them and ran out of time.”
Maddox contemplated different scenarios. “Or the man showed up when the killer was burying the woman, so he shot him and threw him in the hole while he finished burying her.”
“How long will it take to examine the bones?” Jarvis asked.
Dr. Lail tugged the sheet up over the body and gestured for the CSI team to load it in the van. “I’ll get on it right away.”
“Thanks,” Maddox interjected when Sheriff Jarvis started to speak. “It’s possible these deaths are connected to the person who tried to kill Ms. Worthington.”
“Then it goes to the top of my list,” Dr. Lail said.
Maddox thanked her, and Rose watched as the team closed the back of the van and drove away.
