Buried Evidence

by Kellie VanHorn

  The bomb. What about the bomb? The question formed in her mind, but she couldn’t force it onto her numb tongue as he heaved her chair back upright. The messenger bag still lay on the floor ten feet away, just past Sarah McIntosh’s body, now lying motionless in a pool of blood from a knife wound to the chest.

  None of that mattered as Brown raised the knife to Laney’s cheek.

  * * *

  Ryan paused outside the cabin, listening intently. He and Henderson had been close when they’d heard the gunshot, close enough the sound led them the rest of the way. He desperately hoped it wasn’t Laney.

  Please, God, let us get to her on time. Surely Brown wouldn’t shoot her, not after going to all this trouble.

  He tapped his mic rapidly in their prearranged code. Three quick taps. Pause. Two taps. Pause. One.

  The tech’s voice issued softly through his earpiece. “Copy that, Sergeant Mitchell. Backup teams are en route to your location. ETA five minutes. Also, I have a message from Officer McIntosh. Kathleen Kincaide is your bomber. Her dog alerted at Kincaide’s home, but Kathleen wasn’t there. She put an APB out to find the suspect.”

  Ryan tapped his mic again to let her know he’d received the message. So, Ted Kincaide had been telling the truth—his ex-wife had framed him. But where was she now? Waiting inside that cabin to dispose of Laney’s body?

  Wherever she was, five minutes was too long to wait. He gritted his teeth and leaned in toward Henderson, speaking in a barely audible whisper. “Backup ETA five minutes. I’m going in the front. You cover me.”

  The other man nodded and signaled toward a clump of trees opposite the clearing from the cabin’s door. Ryan gave him a thumbs-up and scrambled down into the drainage ditch as Henderson worked his way around the clearing.

  Ryan paused again at the last bit of cover before the trees gave way to open grass. He’d have to cross maybe thirty feet of space before reaching the cabin wall. The only window facing his direction had a pane partially broken out.

  The thumping he’d heard had stopped, replaced now by the low rumble of a man’s voice.

  He watched for a moment, but no face appeared behind the cracked glass. If he worked his way through the brush a bit farther toward the back of the cabin, he’d be less likely to be seen when he crossed the clearing. But the noise might alert the man inside to his presence, and the last thing Ryan wanted was to lose Laney now, when help was so close.

  Easing his gun from its holster, he released the safety and ducked low as he raced across the open grass. The interior of the cabin had gone silent by the time he reached the decaying logs beneath the damaged panes.

  He crept around the front corner of the cabin, keeping low beneath the front window until he reached the door. The tech’s voice came through his earpiece. “Three teams moving in on your location. No sign of the other victim yet.”

  Slipping past the cabin’s door, he stood on the far side, pressing his back against the wall. The door’s lock appeared to be a simple latch, one that would break with a single gunshot. Across the clearing, Henderson saluted. The other officers would be in position any minute.

  Aiming his gun at the lock, Ryan fired. He grabbed the rough edge of the heavy door, pulling it open far enough to kick it the rest of the way. Gun extended, he stood partially in the doorway, using the cabin wall as a shield.

  His chest seized as his eyes adjusted enough to see inside the gloomy cabin.

  Lawrence Brown turned to look at him, a blood-coated knife in his hand, red slathered across his shirt. And in the chair behind him—

  Laney.

  She blinked at him, dark hair all messy and cheeks pale but—praise God—still alive and with no sign of blood. Then whose...?

  Wait—another body lay on the floor close by, unrecognizable from this angle except for the police uniform. A dull ache spread across his chest. Who’d gotten here first? And why hadn’t they called for backup?

  “I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you,” Brown said lazily. He flashed the knife and with his other hand held up a black handgun. “Otherwise I’ll have to shoot her.”

  “This isn’t going to end the way you think,” Ryan said. “We’ve got the cabin surrounded. Give yourself up, and nobody needs to get hurt.”

  “Ryan—” the trembling in Laney’s voice nearly broke his heart “—there’s a bomb. In that bag.” She tipped her head toward a dark shape on the floor on the far side of the body. “I don’t know how much time we have.”

  Brown smirked at Ryan before turning back to her. “Then you and I can be together in death, Laney.” His knife clattered to the floor as he switched the gun to his other hand.

  “Drop the gun, Brown!” Ryan commanded, fear edging its way into his voice. He couldn’t take the shot from here, not with Laney right behind. At this distance, the bullet might pass through and hit her.

  He took a step through the doorway, planning to edge his way into the room, but Brown raised the arm with the gun. Ryan’s insides twisted as the firearm lifted closer to Laney’s forehead.

  A sharp crack sent his heart up into his throat until Brown crumpled to the ground. Henderson. Praise God. The other officer withdrew his gun from the broken window at the end of the cabin and saluted Ryan.

  Ryan rushed into the cabin, issuing orders into his mic. “Ten-ninety-nine. Officer down. Ten-eighty-seven. Bomb in the cabin. Keep back.” He swiped a knife from his utility belt and cut Laney free. The warmth in her eyes threatened to steal his breath, but they didn’t have the luxury to talk yet.

  “Madison Smith is trapped in there.” She pointed to one of the doors behind her with her left hand, clutching the other to her chest as he escorted her toward the entrance.

  “I’ll get her.” Ryan passed her off to Henderson before dashing back inside. The interior door was unlocked. He found the student inside, slumped against the wall and shivering. In shock, no doubt. Speaking in soothing tones, he helped her up off the ground and hurried her out through the entrance.

  He stopped after handing her off to another officer, allowing himself one last glance at Laney. She sat on a fallen tree at the far edge of the clearing, still clutching that hand to her chest. Her dark eyes followed his every movement.

  No time now to think about all the things he still wanted to say. Instead, he raised his hand, tore away his gaze and turned back into the cabin.

  The bomb had to be in that bag on the ground. He dashed first to the fallen officer, spending a precious second to check for signs of life despite the pool of blood. It was Officer Sarah McIntosh. She was gone. Stab wound to the chest. But why was she here? Because of this bomb?

  Confusion and grief twisted beneath his ribs, but there was no time for questions now. Praying this moment wouldn’t be his last, he gingerly lifted the bag’s flap.

  A bright red timer flashed the countdown. Three minutes.

  Praise the Lord, there was time. But not much. With Sarah gone, they needed their other bomb tech.

  “Ten-seventy-five. Johnson. I need Johnson ASAP. Three minutes and counting down.”

  * * *

  Laney held her breath as she listened to Ryan’s voice crackling over the nearest officer’s radio. More had arrived on the scene now, including Cam, the one who’d recognized her at the bog. Her hand throbbed so badly she could barely concentrate on the blur of motion and noise around her.

  An officer rushed into the cabin to help Ryan. Please, God, please...

  The next moments were almost as painful as her aching body. Waiting, unable to help, wondering if the cabin would blow and take the evidence and the one true love of her life with it.

  Then all Laney could see was Ryan jogging out the front door and crouching down in front of her, his beautiful dark eyes gleaming with hope and concern, his lips slightly open as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t quite find the words.

 
All the fear she’d kept back during the last hours crumbled, dissolving into a well of emotion that could find an outlet only through tears. Thankfulness to be alive. Gratitude for God’s justice and mercy.

  And a joy and longing so intense she couldn’t put it in words. She and Ryan still had a chance to figure out what God wanted them to be. Smiling, she struggled to blink away the tears.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice heartbreakingly gentle. He brushed his fingertips lightly against her cheek. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” The word resounded deep through her insides. Because the truth was, she hadn’t felt okay for a long time. Not for at least ten years. But now God had brought her back here, to face everything she’d run away from, to find justice for Jenna and to see Ryan. “I am.”

  He stared at her a moment longer, dark eyebrows pulling together as if he recognized the weight of years behind her words. Then his eyes caught on the injured hand she still cradled against her chest. “Hey, let me take a look at that.”

  She held it out, the fingers curled in like a dead spider’s legs. The back of her hand had turned into a dark, swollen mass. “I think I broke a couple of metacarpals when I tipped the chair over.”

  “Metacarpals?” When he quirked an eyebrow, she launched into a recount of what had happened, his expression falling when she got to the part about Sarah McIntosh.

  “That’s why she’s inside.” He dragged a hand over his face. “Laney, I’m so sorry. But now it makes sense. Sarah wanted to keep Brown’s identity as the killer hidden, so she threatened you at the airport and convinced Brown to plant the bomb in your suitcase. But as soon as Brown realized who you were, he picked you as his next victim.”

  Laney nodded. “Sarah tried to incriminate Ted Kincaide once Lawrence gave up the location of the truck, and she planted the bomb at your house in another attempt to scare me off.”

  “When all of it failed,” he added, “she faked a visit to Kathleen’s and came here instead. Though we’ll still arrest Kathleen for framing Wilson.” He held out his hand, and she marveled at how perfectly hers fit against his palm. “Here, let me help you up.”

  Her legs wobbled for a moment as she regained her balance, and Ryan’s expression clouded. “I’m okay,” she insisted. “Ryan, we did it. The Sandy Bluff serial killer is gone, Jenna will have justice and you’ll have all the evidence you need. Was Madison Smith all right?”

  “She’s okay, thanks to you. What you did was incredibly brave, Laney.”

  Heat made her cheeks flush at his praise. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “Let’s get you some medical attention.” He wrapped an arm around her back.

  But her feet wouldn’t cooperate, not when words sat heavy inside her heart. She’d kept them tucked away long enough. “Ryan, wait.”

  When he stopped and faced her, his brown eyes melting like chocolate, she found it suddenly hard to breathe.

  “What is it?”

  “I...” Her mouth went dry, the words sticking despite their eagerness to escape. “I wanted to tell you earlier. I should have told you.” She paused to swallow, and a trace of a frown crinkled his brow.

  “What?”

  “I love you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, and ten years apart did nothing to change the way I feel.” The weight lifted off her chest, and her lips tilted up on one side almost on their own. “Other than to make me love you more.”

  “Laney...” His voice was thick, his expression a mixture of happiness and hope and disbelief. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d lost you.”

  He pulled her against his chest, being careful of her injured hand, but she could sense the fierce intensity kept at bay by his gentleness.

  “Thank God He had different plans for us,” she said, her words muffled by his starchy uniform shirt and the hard flak jacket underneath.

  Relaxing his grip, Ryan held her out enough to study her face. “Laney, I could never ask you to come back here. I know how much you’ve suffered in this place.”

  Her heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. “I would consider it, though, if it meant being with you.”

  His lips pressed warm and firm against her forehead. When he pulled away to look at her again, his gaze burned. “I know you would, but it wouldn’t be right. It’s okay if you want to take things slowly and see what happens. But—” his eyebrows quirked, adorably cute in their hopefulness “—if you’ll have me, I’ll leave Sandy Bluff and move to DC with you. I would’ve asked you to marry me ten years ago if I’d known I might never get another chance.”

  “Are you asking now?” Her voice was breathless, her heart giddy with joy. How did emotions flip-flop like this, from fear of imminent death to life-changing happiness within the span of half an hour?

  “Yes.” He glanced at the pine-needle strewn ground. “I’d get down on one knee if I thought you wouldn’t collapse.”

  Her lips split into a wide grin. “Not necessary. I just hope Jenna can see us from heaven. She’d be so happy.”

  He nodded, his expression one of bittersweet joy. “Is that a yes, then?”

  “Of course it’s a yes! Ryan Mitchell, you’ve always been my other half. It just took a long detour before I realized it.”

  The warmth in his eyes melted away the adrenaline coursing through her system, replacing it with heady anticipation. He leaned in to kiss her—their first real kiss in a decade, and yet the years felt like they’d vanished.

  From the corner of her eye, she noticed an officer stop a few feet away. “Everything okay over here...?” Cam’s voice died away until he coughed. “Apparently so.”

  Laney and Ryan laughed, and he turned to Cam. “She just, uh, needs to get checked out.”

  “Looks like you got the ‘checked-out’ part covered, Sergeant.” Cam snickered.

  Laney’s gaze locked on Ryan’s, and twin grins formed. He cleared his throat. “I mean, from a medical professional.”

  Was that a blush working its way up into his cheeks? She winked at him, and he winked back. “Lead me away then, Sergeant Mitchell.”

  Morning sunlight streamed into the clearing, warm and comforting on Laney’s face as Ryan guided her out from under the trees. Other officers had started the painstaking task of documenting all the evidence.

  Laney lifted a hand in question. “I can get a ride with someone else if you need to stay and oversee the work?”

  Ryan’s lips quirked. “Right. As if I’m ever leaving your side again.”

  She roped her arm through his, smiling up at him, and together they took the first steps into the joyful new life that lay ahead.

  EPILOGUE

  Eighteen months later

  Ryan winced as Laney squeezed his hand so tightly his wedding ring dug into his fingers. She lay back against the hospital bed, panting, her face lined with exhaustion. Yet her eyes had never looked more alive as a tiny cry pierced the room.

  “Great job, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you,” he said, squeezing her hand back and glancing anxiously at the doctor. Despite years in the police force and now a year on the streets of Washington, DC, he’d never been in a more stressful situation than this moment, when the two loves of his life hung in the balance.

  “Congratulations.” The doctor smiled, softening her normally stern expression. She held out a wriggling little red bundle of moving limbs. “It’s a girl! And she’s perfect.”

  Laney laughed, pure delight written across her features, as the doctor handed their daughter to her.

  A girl.

  Ryan’s throat burned, and he turned his face to one side in a probably pointless effort to hide the water pooling in his eyes. Despite all his mistakes and all the tragedy he and Laney had endured, God had given them a second chance. Both to accept His love and to find this joy with each other. And now they were parents.

 
“It’s okay.” Laney’s warm fingers found his arm, and he looked back at her, blinking furiously. “You can cry. It’ll only make me love you more.”

  He leaned over, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Then another on the downy, impossibly soft black hair of his newborn daughter. “A girl. My mother isn’t going to leave us alone.”

  Laney turned the baby around so he could see her full face. Her little eyes opened, revealing lovely dark brown irises, and she blinked slowly at him. Ryan’s heart threatened to burst right out of his chest.

  “She’s more beautiful than I could possibly have imagined,” he said, the words catching on unshed tears.

  Laney kissed the little head. “Yes, she is.”

  “Do you have a name picked out?” One of the nurses asked, her eyes bright.

  He exchanged a glance with Laney, who nodded.

  “Yeah.” The burning in his throat made it hard to speak, and he had to blink again to clear his blurring vision. “Her name is Jenna Elaine Mitchell.”

  Laney smiled up at him, her gaze filled with love and wonder and the promise of all God’s good blessings still to come.

  * * *

  If you enjoyed Buried Evidence, pick up this other thrilling story from Kellie VanHorn:

  Fatal Flashback

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Lethal Cover-Up by Darlene L.Turner.

  Dear Reader,

  This story was difficult for me to write. Maybe because I worked on it during the lockdown, maybe because it was a second book, but most likely because it was inspired by an actual disappearance that happened in my college town years ago, on the same roads I had biked in my spare time.

  Grappling with loss is one of the hardest parts of life on this earth. I can’t tell you how comforting it is to know that God is always with us and that even when we face the worst, we won’t do it alone. Our souls rest secure in His strong hands, and someday He will make all things right.

  Thank you so much for taking this journey with me. I love hearing from readers, so please feel free to get in touch with me through my website, www.kellievanhorn.com.