Buried Truth by Jannine Gallant (21)

“That’s quite an interesting story.”

Ryan sat across from Detective Stannard with the two photos displayed on the battered desk between them. The man was as beat up by time and the stress of his job as his desk. Deep grooves etched stubbled cheeks and bracketed his lips, but the pale blue eyes beneath thinning silver hair were sharp with intelligence. When he shifted in his swivel chair to reach for one of the pictures, his back cracked.

“I’m sorry to spring these photos and my suspicions on you so late in the day. I’m sure you’d like to go home.”

Stannard didn’t even glance up. “No one except a cat to go home to since my wife walked out ten years ago. And I honestly don’t think Bruiser cares if I show up or not as long as his food dish doesn’t run empty.”

“Most cats have the art of subtle revenge mastered when they’re unhappy.”

The detective leaned back in his chair and eyed Ryan steadily. “Sneaky bastards, but even Bruiser beats coming home to an empty house.”

“I’d have to agree.” He tapped the pale hair just visible in the photo remaining on the desk. “What do you think? Could this woman be Merry Bright?”

“Based on what you’ve told me, it’s a definite possibility. The fact that we never solved that case has bothered me for years.”

“No other unsolved missing persons cases involving young women since then?”

“Well, of course there’ve been a few. That’s a twenty-year time span.” Stannard closed his eyes for a moment. “I recall one case from ten or so years back. A local girl, early twenties, had a fight with her boyfriend and demanded he let her out of his car south of town near the beach . . . or so the jilted lover said. The woman disappeared that night. He was our prime suspect, but we never could pin it on him. No substantial proof, so the DA refused to file charges.” The detective’s frown deepened. “This victim and Merry Bright were each last seen a good forty miles apart, but it might be worth checking with other law enforcement agencies in the region to see if there’s any pattern to similar unsolved crimes.”

“God, I hope not.”

“I’d much rather believe these pictures were taken over near the university at some perverted frat party that had nothing to do with Merry Bright. You said the time capsule was buried in early November, so the likelihood is high this was a Halloween bash turned orgy.”

“True, but no one with access to the time capsule was a college student at the time.” Ryan planted his elbows on the desk. “They were all men . . . and women . . . mostly in their late thirties and early forties with young children. Except Sloan Manning, who was probably still in his twenties. If those pictures were from some kind of sex party, it was thrown by middle-aged adults, not college kids.”

Stannard straightened in his chair. “Do you mind if I keep these photos?”

“Of course not. I have a few others that are similar. My main concern is for the safety of Leah Grayson. If the break-ins and assault she suffered are related to a twenty-year-old crime, and the person responsible believes she has evidence—”

“I’ll look into the individuals who had access to that box you buried.” He slid the photos along with the list of names he’d written down into a folder.

Ryan didn’t like the fact that his own mother’s name was on the list. But Stannard had insisted he include everyone, even the kids in his class. He’d tried to remember them all . . .

“One of the students could have swiped his older brother’s film and dropped it into the time capsule.”

Apparently the detective was also a mind reader.

“If I forgot any of my former classmates, you can probably contact the school for old enrollment records.”

“I’m sure I can.” He held out a hand. “Thanks for bringing this to my attention.”

Ryan shook the extended palm. “You’ll tread carefully with the police in Siren Cove? If Officer Long’s father was involved—”

“I’ll be cautious sharing information outside this office.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Still, both you and Ms. Grayson could be potential targets.” Stannard’s gaze held steady on Ryan. “Please be conscious of your surroundings at all times.”

A chill crept down his back. “I’ve already warned Leah about spending time alone. We’ll be wary.”

“Great.” The detective stood and glanced toward the doorway when a heavyset cop knocked on the partially opened door. “What’s up, Fenton?”

“You have a call. I told him you were occupied, but—”

“We’re just finishing up here, so I’ll take it. If you could walk Mr. Alexander out . . .”

The man nodded as Ryan rose to his feet. “Happy to. Right this way.”

A few minutes later, Ryan drove away from the police station. The marine layer hung clear to the ground, so thick his headlights barely penetrated the fog. Shivering in the clammy interior of the Jeep, he hoped his heater would warm the frigid air soon.

The trip home promised to be a slow one. Pulling out his cell, he placed it on speaker and called Leah.

“Ryan?” She sounded breathless. “How’d it go with the detective?”

“He listened and didn’t act like I’d lost my mind. I don’t know if that’s good or bad. I almost wish he’d told me I was crazy to believe the woman in the pictures could be Merry Bright.”

“I know what you mean. I’d like to think we’re delusional, too.”

“However, he did theorize it might just have been some sort of Halloween bash.” Ryan squinted, staying well to the left of the white line at the edge of the road so he wouldn’t land in a ditch. “I’m on my way home now. Are you still with one of your friends?”

“I went out to dinner with Paige and Nina. In fact, we just left the restaurant. I was hurrying to get to my car when you called. The fog is horrendous.”

“Down this way, too. Don’t go home alone. In these conditions, I probably won’t get back for at least another couple of hours.”

“They both left the parking lot while I was talking to you. Anyway, I’m tired and just want to crash on my couch.”

“Follow one of them—”

“I have Barney for protection. Besides, no one knows we developed those pictures, and it’s been a week since that freak hit me and searched my purse, with no further incidents.”

Ryan’s grip on the wheel tightened. “I don’t know . . .”

“I’ll be fine. Please drive carefully. In fact, maybe you should get a room—”

“No, I’m coming back. Stay alert. Please.”

“I will.” Her voice softened. “I love you, Ryan.”

Heat that had nothing to do with the tepid air blowing through the vents suffused him. “I love you, too.”

* * *

He stepped out of the shower just as the cell sitting next to the sink rang. Grabbing the towel off the rack, he wrapped it around himself before answering. “Yeah, hello.”

“We have a problem.”

“What, now?”

“Ryan Alexander took a trip down to Coos Bay tonight and did a lot of talking.”

“Shit.”

“He brought a couple of photos with him.” The voice on the other end of the connection grew louder. “So your theory that the damn film wound up in the trash is just that . . . garbage.”

“Only two pictures?”

“Exactly. Where do you suppose the rest of them are?”

He closed his eyes and leaned both elbows on the counter. “The interfering bitch has them.”

“That would be my guess.”

“What’s the current status on the photos he turned over?”

“They’ve mysteriously disappeared.” The hint of humor in his tone faded. “However, we need to recover the rest of those prints.”

“I’ll take a trip over to Leah’s place. If she’s home . . .”

“Do whatever it takes to get those damn pictures back.”

When the dial tone buzzed in his ear, he set the cell back on the counter. Goose bumps pebbled his chilled skin, and a hard, hot knot formed in his stomach. Offering up a sacrifice once every decade was part of the deal their forefathers had made, but this—

Spinning, he opened the toilet lid and puked up his dinner. After a moment, he wiped the back of a shaking hand across his mouth. No time to indulge a weak stomach. He’d get the job done.

One way or the other.

* * *

Leah brushed her teeth and spit, then slowly raised her head. A thump had sounded from somewhere downstairs. Or possibly outside. Had Barney jumped off the couch? Maybe the wind had picked up and was finally blowing out the fog. She’d meant to screw down that loose shutter . . .

She rinsed her mouth and left the bathroom. When a shiver worked through her, she tightened the belt on her robe and stopped in her bedroom doorway. Not Barney. Her dog was stretched out on the bed. He rolled over and opened one eye to stare at her. Obviously, he didn’t have a care in the world.

From the TV in the corner of the room, a reporter droned on about Yvonne Ames, a young woman who had gone missing nearly forty-eight hours earlier after leaving the motel in Eugene where she worked as a desk clerk. A picture of a pretty brunette flashed on the screen. Lifting the remote from the top of the dresser, Leah turned off the TV and debated going down to see what had caused the thump.

She wouldn’t be able to sleep until she made doubly sure the house was secure. Squaring her shoulders, she turned to head downstairs. With a moan, the dog jumped down and followed her. The stairs creaked as she descended.

Thoroughly annoyed with her case of nerves, she crossed the dark entry to the front door and flipped on the porch light to peer through the small window. Outside, fog shrouded the rattan furniture and hung like a curtain, obscuring the yard.

Not the wind, then. Maybe she’d imagined the thump, or the noise had come from the TV. Probably her own damn heart beating overtime as she pictured bogeymen in every closet. If someone was sneaking around the house, wouldn’t Barney be barking—or at least running to greet them—not sitting on his butt, scratching furiously behind one ear?

Even so, it wouldn’t hurt to check the lock on the kitchen door. Surely she’d flipped the dead bolt once her dog came inside after his nightly stroll. Latching the doggy door didn’t mean she was a coward, did it? Just smart.

She bit down on her lip as she turned toward the kitchen, where she’d at least had the sense to leave on a light. When a soft rattle sounded, she nearly peed herself. Pressing a hand to her chest, she stopped beside the table and stared across the room at the doorknob. Had it jiggled slightly?

Barney brushed past her and ran toward the door, barking to wake the dead. When the knob turned, Leah let out a whimper and debated flight or fight for the two seconds it took to grab the cast-iron skillet she’d left on the stove. Raising it over her head, she took aim as the door opened—and just missed braining Ryan when Barney jumped against him. The pan hit his arm instead and knocked him off balance.

“Oh, my God.” The skillet slid from her fingers to hit the tile with a thud.

“Down, boy.” Ryan pushed the dog away then reached for her. “Are you okay?”

Leah nodded and pressed her face against his shoulder. She didn’t even try to stop the tears. “You scared me to death. Did I hurt you?”

He flexed his arm. “I expect I’ll have a bruise. You swung that thing like you were aiming for the fence.”

“Sorry.” She sniffed hard. “Really, really sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s my fault. When the only light I saw was in the kitchen, I thought maybe you’d gone up to bed. I hunted for the spare key you leave under the mat so I wouldn’t wake you.” He stroked her hair. “By the way, didn’t I suggest you find a better hiding spot?”

“I meant to . . .” She let out a shaking breath. “I’m just happy you don’t have brain damage.”

Keeping one arm around her, he pushed the door shut and locked it, then reached down to rub Barney’s ears. “I can thank your dog for saving me from head trauma.” Turning, he cupped her chin and wiped the tears off her cheeks. “Hey, don’t cry. The bruise I’ll have tomorrow is nothing compared to some of the ones I’ve gotten rock climbing.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better. Honestly, I don’t know how much longer I can stand this. Afraid in my own home. Jumping at shadows.”

“Better to be wary than a victim. If the person coming through that door had been a threat, you would have clobbered him.” Ryan hugged her tight. “You’re a strong, resourceful woman. I admire the hell out of you.”

“Great, but being Wonder Woman is exhausting.”

He smiled. “Then we’ll go to bed.”

“I want to hear what that detective had to say first. Since I have to work tomorrow, we won’t have time to discuss it in the morning.”

“Stannard intends to check out the people who had access to the time capsule. He’ll also research missing persons cases in the surrounding area that occurred over the past couple of decades to see if there’s a pattern.” Wrapping an arm around her, Ryan guided her across the room. “That was the gist of our conversation. He promised to let me know what he uncovers.”

Leah turned off the kitchen light and leaned against him as they headed toward the stairs with Barney following. “Two decades . . . I can’t even think about the possibility without feeling sick to my stomach.”

“I know. I hope he doesn’t find anything to connect other missing women to Merry Bright. I hope whatever ugliness happened on that night twenty years ago was an isolated incident.”

When they reached her room, Leah climbed into bed while Ryan used the bathroom. He joined her a few minutes later and clicked off the lamp. Darkness settled around them as she cuddled close and rested her cheek on his chest.

“Ryan?”

“Hmm.”

“I don’t want to lose what we have together.”

He tightened his arms around her. “I don’t, either.”

“But you live in Sisters, which is a good three-hour drive. That’s quite a commute.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

She pressed her eyelids tightly closed and fought tears. “I don’t know, either. I’m not sure why I brought up the subject now.” Her throat ached. “I’m scared . . . of the psycho who wants the pictures, of what those awful images represent.” The truth tumbled out. “I’m afraid our relationship will fizzle when you go home.”

“It won’t. I can stay with you as often as we want. I get plenty of work done while you’re teaching.”

“Probably because there isn’t any rock climbing in the area. Tell me you don’t miss it.”

“I won’t because I do miss climbing.” He touched her cheek with his thumb and wiped away the dampness. “I’d miss you more.”

The tears came faster. “One problem—”

“Not tonight.” His voice was firm. “You’re tired and stressed and frightened. So am I. We’ll finish this discussion later and talk about our options when we’re both thinking more rationally.”

She nodded, and her hair caught on the rough stubble covering his chin. “Can I say one more thing?”

He pressed a kiss to her hair. “I’m not trying to muzzle you.”

“Good, since I’d probably bite you if you did.” She smiled and let herself relax. “I love you.”

He held her tight. “I love you, too.”

Maybe nothing had been resolved between them. Maybe a dangerous psychopath was still out there somewhere in the night. But for the moment, Leah pushed her troubles away. She would lie in Ryan’s arms and simply be thankful . . .

* * *

Light streamed through the window when Leah woke the next morning. Squinting against the brightness, she stretched and smiled when her foot brushed against a hairy leg. Nestling closer, she pressed her nose against one hard pec and breathed in the intoxicating scent of male in the morning.

Ryan ran a big hand down her back to cup her butt beneath the oversized T-shirt. “Time to get up?” His lips grazed her ear.

She smiled and wiggled against him. “Feels like you already are.”

“Oh, yeah.” Rolling her over, he slid between her legs and kissed her.

Lost in a haze of need, Leah blinked then focused on the numbers displayed on the digital clock. Her eyes widened, and she shoved hard. “Oh, my God!”

“What?” He drew in a breath as she scrambled out from under him. “What’s wrong?”

“The time! Holy hell. I’m going to be late for work.” She yanked off the shirt she’d slept in and ran toward the closet. “I forgot to turn on the alarm last night.”

“Oh.” He propped up the pillows and leaned back against them.

When she turned, holding a long paisley skirt, his eyes glazed as he stared at her bare breasts.

“Leah?”

“What?” She snatched a lacy bra from the open dresser drawer and slid her arms through the straps.

“Naked and frantic is a good look on you. I can’t begin to tell you how hot you are right now.”

His sultry blue eyes gave her pause . . . but only for a moment. “We can’t. The kids will be lining up at the classroom door in exactly fifteen minutes.” She shimmied into purple panties before yanking a black shirt over her head.

“Fine, but I’m going to walk around all day with a hard-on, just thinking about how you look when you roll out of bed in the morning.”

Leah fastened the waistband of her skirt and shoved her feet into ankle boots without bothering with socks. “I sympathize.” Her gaze dropped to the sheet tented over his lap. “But I’m still leaving.” She hustled into the bathroom, swirled mouthwash and spit, then attacked her hair with a brush. “Okay, I’m out of here.”

He strolled out into the hall wearing nothing but his jeans. He hadn’t bothered to button them, and the fact that he didn’t have anything on underneath was evident. She gripped the doorframe and swallowed hard.

His eyes sparkled. “No time for coffee?”

“Afraid not.” She dragged her gaze upward and ran down the stairs. Sprinting into the living room, she picked up the folder full of vocabulary tests and stuck them in the top of the bag she’d left on the end of the couch.

Ryan grabbed her as she dashed past on the way to the front door and dropped a kiss on her lips. “Have a good day. I’ll see you this afternoon.” He held up her car keys.

“Thanks. You, too.”

Flinging open the front door, she took two steps and stopped. The big planter that held petunias during the summer was tipped on its side. Dirt was scattered across the porch.

“That was the thump I heard last night.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Did you trip over the planter before going around to the back door?”

Ryan stopped beside her and frowned. “No, I went straight through the carport to the kitchen entrance.”

“If you didn’t knock it over . . .” She gripped his arm. “I wasn’t imagining a bogeyman last night. Someone was out here in the fog, sneaking around my house.”

He slammed a hand down on the porch railing. “That means whoever wants those pictures hasn’t given up.”