Once Buried Read online

  Table of Contents

  O N C E B U R I E D

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

  O N C E B U R I E D

  (A RILEY PAIGE MYSTERY—BOOK 11)

  B L A K E P I E R C E

  Blake Pierce

  Blake Pierce is author of the bestselling RILEY PAGE mystery series, which includes eleven books (and counting). Blake Pierce is also the author of the MACKENZIE WHITE mystery series, comprising seven books (and counting); of the AVERY BLACK mystery series, comprising six books; and of the new KERI LOCKE mystery series, comprising four books (and counting).

  ONCE GONE (a Riley Paige Mystery--Book #1), BEFORE HE KILLS (A Mackenzie White Mystery—Book 1), CAUSE TO KILL (An Avery Black Mystery—Book 1), and A TRACE OF DEATH (A Keri Locke Mystery—Book 1) are each available as a free download on Amazon!

  An avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Blake loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.blakepierceauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.

  Copyright © 2017 by Blake Pierce. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright anuruk perai, used under license from Shutterstock.com.

  BOOKS BY BLAKE PIERCE

  RILEY PAIGE MYSTERY SERIES

  ONCE GONE (Book #1)

  ONCE TAKEN (Book #2)

  ONCE CRAVED (Book #3)

  ONCE LURED (Book #4)

  ONCE HUNTED (Book #5)

  ONCE PINED (Book #6)

  ONCE FORSAKEN (Book #7)

  ONCE COLD (Book #8)

  ONCE STALKED (Book #9)

  ONCE LOST (Book #10)

  ONCE BURIED (Book #11)

  ONCE BOUND (Book #12)

  MACKENZIE WHITE MYSTERY SERIES

  BEFORE HE KILLS (Book #1)

  BEFORE HE SEES (Book #2)

  BEFORE HE COVETS (Book #3)

  BEFORE HE TAKES (Book #4)

  BEFORE HE NEEDS (Book #5)

  BEFORE HE FEELS (Book #6)

  BEFORE HE SINS (Book #7)

  BEFORE HE HUNTS (Book #8)

  AVERY BLACK MYSTERY SERIES

  CAUSE TO KILL (Book #1)

  CAUSE TO RUN (Book #2)

  CAUSE TO HIDE (Book #3)

  CAUSE TO FEAR (Book #4)

  CAUSE TO SAVE (Book #5)

  CAUSE TO DREAD (Book #6)

  KERI LOCKE MYSTERY SERIES

  A TRACE OF DEATH (Book #1)

  A TRACE OF MUDER (Book #2)

  A TRACE OF VICE (Book #3)

  A TRACE OF CRIME (Book #4)

  A TRACE OF HOPE (Book #5)

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

  PROLOGUE

  Courtney Wallace felt a familiar burning in her lungs and her thighs. She slowed her jog down to a walk, then stopped, bent over with her hands on her knees, and gasped as she regained her breath.

  It was a good, bracing feeling—a much better way to wake up than a cup of hot coffee, although in just a little while she’d have coffee with her breakfast. She still had plenty of time to shower and eat before she had to go to work.

  Courtney loved the glow of early morning sunlight low among the trees and the lingering dampness of morning dew still in the air. Soon it would be a hot May day, but now the temperature was perfect, especially here in the gorgeous Belle Terre Nature Preserve.

  She liked the solitude as well. She had seldom encountered another jogger along this trail—and never at this time of morning.

  In spite of her satisfaction with her surroundings, a feeling of disappointment began to creep over her while she got her breathing back under control.

  Her live-in boyfriend, Duncan, had promised yet again to come jogging with her—and yet again he had refused to wake up. He probably wouldn’t get up until long after she’d gone to work at her own office job, maybe not until afternoon.

  Is he ever going to snap out of this? she wondered.

  And when was he going to get another job?

  She broke into a gentle trot, hoping to shake off her negative thoughts. Soon she broke into a full run, and that invigorating burning in her lungs and legs seemed to sweep her worry and disappointment away.

  Then the ground gave out from under her.

  She was falling—a weird, suspended moment that somehow felt agonizingly slow.

  She crashed and crumpled with a brutal thump.

  The sunlight was gone, and her eyes had to adjust.

  Where am I? she wondered.

  She saw that she was at the bottom of a narrow pit.
<
br />   But how had she gotten here?

  She felt a terrible pain shooting up her right leg.

  She looked down and saw that her ankle was bent at an unnatural angle.

  She tried to move her leg. The pain sharpened and she cried out. She tried to stand up, but her leg collapsed beneath her. She could actually feel the broken bones rasping against one another. Nausea rose in her throat and she nearly blacked out.

  She knew she needed help and reached into her pocket for her cell phone.

  It wasn’t there!

  It must have fallen out.

  It had to be here somewhere. She groped about to find it.

  But she was partially entangled in a sort of rough, heavy, loosely woven blanket along with soil and leaves. She couldn’t find the phone.

  It began to dawn on her that she had fallen into a trap—a hole with the debris-strewn cloth stretched over to hide it.

  Was it somebody’s idea of a practical joke?

  If so, it wasn’t the least bit funny.

  And how was she going to get out of here?

  The walls of the hole were straight, with no footholds or handholds. Unable to even stand up, she would never be able to get out of here on her own.

  And no one else was likely to come along this trail soon, maybe not for hours.

  Then she heard a voice directly above her.

  “Hey! Did you have a bit of an accident?”

  She breathed a little easier at the sound.

  She looked up and saw that a man was standing above her. His figure was silhouetted against pale light, so she couldn’t make out his face.

  Still, she could barely believe her luck. After so many mornings of seeing no one on this trail, this morning someone just happened to come by when she desperately needed help.

  “I think my ankle is broken,” she called up to the man. “And I’ve lost my phone.”

  “That sounds bad,” the man said. “How did it happen?”

  What kind of question is that? she wondered.

  Although there seemed to be a smile in his voice, Courtney wished she could see his face.

  She said, “I was jogging, and … there was this hole, and …”

  “And what?”

  Courtney was feeling more than a little impatient now.

  She said, “Well, obviously, I fell in.”

  The man fell quiet for a moment. Then he said, “It’s a big hole. Didn’t you see it?”

  Courtney let out a groan of exasperation.

  “Look, I just need help getting out of here, OK?”

  The man shook his head.

  “You shouldn’t come jogging in strange places where you don’t know the path.”

  “I do know this path!” Courtney shouted.

  “Then how did you fall in this hole?”

  Courtney was dumbfounded. Either the man was an idiot or he was toying with her.

  “Are you the dick that dug this hole?” she snapped. “If so, it’s not funny, damn it. Get me out of here!”

  She was shocked to realize that she was weeping.

  “How?” the man asked.

  Courtney reached up, stretching her arm as far as it would go.

  “Here,” she said. “Reach down and take my hand and pull me up.”

  “I’m not sure I can reach that far.”

  “Sure you can.”

  The man laughed. It was a pleasant, friendly laugh. Even so, Courtney still wished she could see his face.

  “I’ll take care of everything,” he said.

  He stepped away and out of sight.

  Then she heard a rattling of metal and squeaking, grinding sounds coming around from behind her.

  The next thing she knew, she felt a huge weight crashing down on her.

  She gasped and sputtered until she grasped that the man had just dumped a load of dirt on her.

  She felt her hands and legs getting cold—signs of panic, she realized.

  Don’t panic, she told herself.

  Whatever was going on, she had to stay calm.

  She saw that the man was standing with a wheelbarrow tilted over her. A few remaining clods of dirt tumbled out of the wheelbarrow onto her head.

  “What are you doing?” she yelled.

  “Relax,” the man said. “Like I said, I’ll take care of everything.”

  He rolled the wheelbarrow away. Then she heard a dull, drum-like pounding against metal again and again.

  It was the sound of the man shoveling more dirt into the wheelbarrow.

  She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, opened her mouth, and let out a long, piercing shriek.

  “Help!”

  Then she felt a heavy clump of dirt hitting her directly in her face. Some of it got into her mouth, and she choked and gagged and spit it out.

  His voice still sounding friendly, the man said …

  “I’m afraid you’re going to have to yell a lot louder than that.”

  Then with a chuckle he added …

  “I can barely hear you myself.”

  She let out another shriek, shocked at the loudness of her own voice.

  Then the man dumped the new wheelbarrow full of dirt onto her.

  She couldn’t scream again now. Her throat was clogged with dirt.

  She was overcome by an eerie sense of déjà vu. She’d experienced this before—this inability to run from danger or even to scream.

  But those experiences had only been nightmares. And she’d always woken up from them.

  Surely this was just another nightmare.

  Wake up, she told herself again and again. Wake up, wake up, wake up …

  But she couldn’t wake up.

  This was not a dream.

  This was real.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Special Agent Riley Paige was working at her desk at the BAU building in Quantico when an unwelcome memory swept over her …

  A dark-skinned man was staring at her with glassy eyes.

  He had a bullet wound in his shoulder, and a much more dangerous wound in the abdomen.

  In a weak, bitter voice, he told Riley …

  “I order you to kill me.”

  Riley’s hand was on her weapon.

  She ought to kill him.

  She had every good reason to kill him.

  Even so, she didn’t know what to do …

  A woman’s voice snapped Riley out of her reverie.

  “You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

  Riley looked up from her desk and saw a young African-American woman with short straight hair standing in her office doorway.

  It was Jenn Roston, who had been Riley’s new partner on her most recent case.

  Riley shook herself a little.

  “It’s nothing,” she said.

  Jenn’s dark brown eyes were filled with concern.

  She said, “Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s not nothing.”

  When Riley didn’t reply, Jenn said, “You’re thinking about Shane Hatcher, aren’t you?”

  Riley nodded silently. The memories were coming pretty often these days—memories of her terrible confrontation with the wounded man up at her dead father’s cabin.

  Riley’s relationship with the escaped convict had been rooted in a weird, twisted bond of loyalty. He had been at large for five months, and she hadn’t even tried to curtail his freedom—not until he began to murder innocent people.

  Now it was hard for Riley to believe that she had let him go free for so long.

  Theirs had been an unsettling, illegal, and very, very dark relationship.

  Of all the people Riley knew, Jenn knew best just how dark it had been.

  Finally Riley said, “I just keep thinking—I should have killed him right then and there.”

  Jenn said, “He was wounded, Riley. He posed no threat to you.”

  “I know,” Riley said. “But I keep thinking I let my loyalty get in the way of my judgment.”

  Jenn shook her head.

  “Ri
ley, we’ve talked about this. You already know what I think about it. You did the right thing. And you don’t have to take my word for it. Everybody else here feels the same way.”

  Riley knew that it was true. Her colleagues and superiors had heartily congratulated her for bringing Hatcher in alive. Their goodwill was a welcome change. As long as Riley had been in Hatcher’s thrall, everybody here had been justifiably suspicious of her. Now that the cloud of suspicion had lifted, her colleagues’ faces were friendly again, and she was greeted with renewed respect.

  Riley truly felt at home here again.

  Then Jenn grinned and added, “Hell, you even did things by the book for once in your life.”

  Riley chuckled. Certainly she had followed correct procedure in how she had apprehended Hatcher—which was more than she could say for many of her actions during the case she and Jenn had just solved together.

  Riley said, “Yeah, I guess you got a real crash course in my … unconventional methods.”

  “I sure did.”

  Riley chuckled uneasily. She’d ignored even more rules than usual. Jenn had covered for her loyally—even when she’d broken into a suspect’s house without a warrant. Jenn could have reported her actions if she’d chosen to. She could have gotten Riley fired.

  “Jenn, I really appreciate—”

  “Don’t even mention it,” Jenn said. “It’s all in the past. Whatever comes next is all that matters.”

  Jenn’s smile broadened as she added, “And I don’t expect you to act like a Girl Scout. You’d better not expect me to either.”

  Riley laughed again, more comfortably this time.

  She found it hard to believe that she had recently distrusted Jenn, had even considered her a true nemesis.

  After all, Jenn had done much, much more for Riley than be discreet about her actions.

  “Have I thanked you for saving my life?” Riley asked.

  Jenn smiled.

  “I’ve kind of lost count of how many times,” she said.

  “Well, thank you again.”

  Jenn said nothing. Her smile faded. A far-off look came over her.

  “Did you want something, Jenn?” Riley asked. “I mean, why did you stop by?”

  Jenn just kept staring down the hallway for a moment.

  Finally she said, “Riley, I don’t know whether I should tell you …” Her voice trailed off.