Buried Alive (Buried #1)

The hospital room door creaked open and Gina tiptoed in. “How is she?” Her mouth was pulled into a thin line.

“The same. The doctors are running a tox screen on her. They figured she must have been drugged or she wouldn’t have been able to stay alive so long.”

“The killer gave her a drug to slow her heart down? Why would he do that?”

“The only person who knows that answer is, I believe, dead. I’m guessing he wanted her to die a slow death.” He couldn’t think of the horror any more. “How’s Phil?” Like he’d seen Kerry do many times, he crossed his fingers. It worked for her, why not him?

She shook her head and pulled up the other chair in the room next to him. The cramped room grew smaller. The red eyes and red nose told him it was bad. “Is he...?” Hunter couldn’t say the word.

“Dead? No. He’s alive. Barely. He came through surgery, but the bullet hit his spinal cord.”

Hunter’s heart cracked. “Shit. What’s the damage?”

“The doctors told me he’ll be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.” A giant sob erupted. He hadn’t realized she’d cared so much.

Hunter dropped his hands in his head. “This will kill Phil, you know.” He looked up but couldn’t talk about the tragedy. The news would take time to absorb. “How are you holding up?”

She shrugged. “I always knew police work was dangerous, but now I’m not so sure I want to be an officer anymore. Phil needs me.”

Her statement surprised him. “You going to be his nurse or something?”

“Maybe.” Her eyes shimmered with tears. Man had he misjudged her.

Gina’s uncle, and Hunter’s boss, stormed in. “How’s Dr. Herlihy?” His breath was ragged. He clasped Gina’s shoulder but kept his gaze on the beautiful woman in the bed.

“Still sedated.” Or at least he hoped that’s what was happening.

Jack Andries’ jaw clenched. “Steven Dalton didn’t make it.”

“I know. I wanted him to pay for what he did to Phil, to Kerry, and to whoever else he hurt.”

“You’ll have to settle for the uncle.”

Disgust filled him. “All we have on him is attempted murder. I want to nail the bastard for at least the first four murders. I know the SOB is guilty.”

“We’re searching his place as we speak.” He squeezed Gina’s shoulder. “Phil’s asking for you.”

Her face lit up. “How’s he—”

“Awake, but don’t expect much.”

“I know, but I was hoping with time, he’d have some feeling in his legs.” Gina lowered her chin, pushed up on the chair arms and said goodbye.

Jack’s eyes narrowed for a moment before he shifted his focus to the floor. “Your sister’s informant died last night.”

If possible, the weight on Hunter’s shoulders grew heavier. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be. You did the right thing. Kerry’s alive. That’s what matters.”

Hunter nodded, thankful Jack Andries left off the other half of the thought. Denise wouldn’t have come back to life even if he’d gone to the vagrant’s deathbed. “I wonder why he only wanted to talk to me?”

“He wouldn’t say.”

Jack stood. “Let me know when Kerry wakes.”

“Sure.” If she wakes. A giant claw scratched at his heart. Hunter wanted to break down, but he dug deep to keep strong.



Sun streamed in through the hospital blinds, waking him. Hunter sat up with a start, and his back protested from sleeping in a chair all night. Someone must have built a sand trap inside his mouth.

Hunter grabbed Kerry’s hand and when he rubbed his thumb over her palm, a wave of emotion slammed into him. Kerry meant more to him than he ever could have imagined.

“I love you,” he whispered.

He waited for his words to sink in, waited for her to respond to his declamation, but her chest rose and fell in an even manner, and her face remained devoid of color.

His stomach grumbled. It wouldn’t do her any good if he couldn’t concentrate. He needed food and coffee. Or rather coffee then food.

He stood and stretched out the kinks before checking in with the nurses’ station. He asked them to keep an eye on Kerry while he went to the cafeteria.

The place wouldn’t win any culinary awards, but the hot java, hamburger and fries did wake him up—even at eight in the morning.

On his way back to the room, he popped his head in Phil’s room. The thought his good friend would never be able to do his job again sickened him. He tried to plaster on a cheery face.

Phil’s eyes opened. “Hey.” His voice came out weak.

“Hey yourself.”

Gina and Jack stood. “We’re going to grab something to eat,” Jack said. “Visit with Phil a while.”

Hunter appreciated the time alone with his partner. But what could he say to someone whose life had been shattered?

“Rehab’s going to be a bitch, but you’ll be back on the force in no time.” That sounded lame, and he knew it the moment the words slipped from his lips.

Phil shook his head. “No, I’m finished.” The dejection in his voice nearly felled Hunter.

“We’ll find something to keep you busy.”

He shook his head. “Gina said you found Kerry. Is she going to be okay?”

Hunter understood the change of subject for what it was. Denial. “Yeah.” No way would he let on that she was still in a coma. Phil had taken a bullet for her.

“At least my injury wasn’t for nothing.”

“Hey, man, you saved her life. If Dalton hadn’t shot you, I wouldn’t have gotten the drop on him, and Kerry would be dead.”

“I heard the bastard kicked the bucket.” Phil attempted a smile, but Hunter saw his partner was fighting for his life.

“Yeah, you got him good.”

They talked about nothing until Gina and Jack returned. Hunter was chomping at the bit to return to Kerry. “I’m down the hall, buddy. Yell if you need me.”

They clasped hands, and Hunter raced out of the room before he broke down. Vibrant Phil would be no more.

As he entered Kerry’s room, a female doctor with hips wider than the bed, bent over Kerry, her body blocking his view. Hunter bulled his way in. “Any change?”

“See for yourself.”

The tanker-sized woman moved, and Hunter nearly dove toward the bed. She was awake.

Kerry looked up at him. “Hi.”

His broad smile made his cheeks hurt. “Hey.” Hunter pulled up a chair and clasped her cool hand. “How do you feel?”

“Feel? My head’s pounding, I’m starving, and I’m cold, but other than that, I’m great.”

The look on her face made him burst out laughing. She smiled. No doubt about it, he’d found the woman for him.



Kerry finally convinced Grandpa and Susan she felt well enough to go into work after doing nothing but rest for eight days. Her job at the M.E.’s office was over, but she wanted to come clean to John Ahern about bringing home #3’s skull. She knocked on John’s autopsy door, and then pushed it open. The cold blasted her. The man must have Eskimo blood.

A Negroid male lay on the gurney. John had made a barn door cut in the corpse’s chest and was pulling the heart out when she cleared her throat.

John looked up and smiled. “Give me a sec.” He dropped the organ on the scale, made a note on his hand recorder, and then pulled down his mask and removed his gloves. “So, you’re getting ready to leave us?”

“Yes. Other than one woman’s identity, the case is solved.”

“We’ll miss you.”

“Same here.” Hunter had told her about John’s heart attack. “Why aren’t you home resting?”

“Like you?”

“I didn’t have a heart attack.”

“Is being buried alive better for the body than what happened to me?”

Clearly, she wouldn’t win any argument with him. She twisted her fingers together. “I have a confession to make. One that might cause me to lose my license.” Not to mention prison time.

He shook his head. “Kerry, there’s nothing you could have done that’s that bad. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I was so pressed for time that I brought home #3 skull to do a clay reconstruction and... someone stole it.”

John walked over to her and took her hands. “Don’t worry. Hunter told me all about the theft.”

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