Buried Page 4

  An overlong sleeve swung from the bottom.

  “I’m confident that there are no Native American tribes that use straitjackets in their religious ceremonies.…”

  Sayer stared, mouth slightly agape. A straitjacket? She was about to say something when a loud crack made the two women look up.

  The rope ladder crumpled to the cavern floor with a wet thump.

  “Hey!” Sayer shouted up. “Max? Piper?”

  A silhouette moved purposefully around the rim of the sinkhole.

  “Hey! Who’s up there?” Sayer called up again, trying to make out the figure shrouded in a puffy jacket.

  A faint glug glug sound became audible over the rain as a thin stream of amber liquid splashed down from above.

  The vaporous scent of gasoline sent a shock down Sayer’s spine.

  She shouted up again, “There’re people down here!”

  An empty gas can fell to the ground near them and another stream of liquid poured into the cave.

  Sayer looked over at Dana. “Fire?”

  Dana nodded, fear etched on her face.

  Sayer thrust her finger toward the first-aid kit propped among the equipment. “Emergency blanket in there?” Without waiting for an answer, she pulled it open and began yanking everything out. Though thin, silver emergency blankets were designed to reflect heat.

  The stream of liquid stopped and a second empty can clattered to the ground. A miasma of gas permeated the air. Sayer took short breaths, trying not to inhale the toxic fumes.

  “Hurry! Over to the chute!” Sayer shouted as she triumphantly pulled out an emergency blanket and shook it open.

  Sayer and Dana pressed together, pulling the edges of the blanket across their bodies.

  Time seemed to stop.

  * * *

  Nothing … nothing … Sayer risked one last look up.

  A flaming knot of cloth drifted down through the opening.

  She pulled the edge of the blanket tight against the rock behind her. In the perfect stillness of pure panic, Sayer tucked her face down into her arm.

  A sharp whoosh thudded as the gasoline ignited.

  The air became fire. Then two deep booms as the gas cans exploded.

  An inferno roared around them like an oncoming train, muted by the ringing in Sayer’s ears.

  Seconds ticked by like hours as the fireball raged.

  Sayer tried to hold her breath, but her brain screamed in panic at the intense heat pressing against her. She involuntarily sucked in. Blistering pain flooded her nose and mouth, choking her.

  She fought the irrational urge to throw aside the blanket and flee.

  As suddenly as the fire began, the midair conflagration disappeared with a gentle puff.

  Sayer looked up, gulping for air.

  She blinked at the sight of her gloves on fire as she still clutched the edges of the emergency blanket.

  Dana huddled next to her, shouting something.

  “What?” She tried to speak, but her mouth felt full of cotton.

  “Gloves off!” she finally heard. Something about Dana’s commanding voice broke through the haze.

  Time crashed back into place.

  Sayer frantically pulled off her flaming gloves and threw them to the ground.

  “Poncho!” Dana shouted, and Sayer immediately pulled the poncho over her head.

  She tossed it aside and realized that the entire thing was smoking.

  “Synthetics burn,” Dana croaked.

  Sayer watched the gloves and poncho melt into a smoldering puddle.

  A few flames still danced along the opposite wall of the cavern, pushed back by the breeze being sucked down the chute by the oxygen-hungry fire.

  As the firestorm dissipated, it left behind innumerable small fires along the floor of the cave.

  Sayer took a wheezing breath. “Fire won’t have any fuel once the last puddles of gas burn off.”

  Dana nodded, then winced, gently reaching up to touch her lobster-red cheeks. “Did I already mention that I thought I’d come back from a war zone for some nice food, a clean bed…”

  They slowly stood and lowered the blanket. The last fires flickered out, leaving ashen heaps along the ground.

  “Damn, there goes any chance of finding trace on the cloth remains.” Sayer gestured to the charred straitjacket.

  “Yeah,” Dana agreed. “You know, I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I think someone might have just tried to kill us.”

  Sayer let out a shaky laugh. She tried to swallow but didn’t have enough spit.

  “Hey! What’s going on?” a voice called down from above.

  “Max? Piper?” Sayer called up, and immediately regretted it as her throat rasped painfully.

  “Yeah!” Max and Piper looked down from above. “What the hell happened?”

  “Someone just tried to set us on fire. Watch out. He could still be up there!”

  Sayer was about to step forward when something heavy bumped against the backs of her legs.

  She looked down to see a perfect set of cotton-candy-pink toenails sticking out from the bottom of the rocky chute.

  SHENANDOAH NATIONAL PARK, VA

  Max listened to Sayer’s chest with his stethoscope. “You and Dana are lucky you were already soaking wet and covered in mud. I think that saved your asses.”

  Sayer nodded, still focusing on the very fresh-looking body they had just pulled from the sinkhole. The corpse lay on her side in a fetal position, wrapped in thick layers of clear plastic. The dead woman’s wide eyes were barely visible over her knees pulled tight to her chest. Her arms were crossed over naked legs. Only her bare feet poked out from the bottom of the plastic, bright pink nails a cheerful contrast to her bluish toes.

  Dana bustled around the body, wrapping the feet in evidence bags. Sayer could see that Dana’s hands were still shaking.

  Max followed Sayer’s eyes. “How long you think she was in there?”

  Sayer tore her eyes away and refocused on Max. “Don’t know. Dana thinks it can’t be more than a few days.”

  “A few days,” Max repeated, shaking his head. “No wonder Kona was so frantic this morning. So we’ve got some old bones and now a new body.…”

  “And someone who clearly doesn’t want us to find them.” Sayer looked down at the blisters along the backs of her knuckles and realized that her own hands were shaking as well. The last bits of adrenaline were draining from her body, leaving her weak and nauseous.

  “No joke. I’m just glad Piper and I were nearby. You might’ve been stuck down there all night.”

  Sayer ran a hand along her curls and realized that the ends were singed. “Or he might have come back to finish the job,” she said, feeling a wave of vertigo.

  Max finished examining Sayer and stood up. “Well, you and Dana are both probably having some post-adrenaline symptoms, dry mouth, dizziness. You should eat something soon or your blood sugar will crash. You both also have some smoke inhalation and a few minor burns but nothing that needs a doctor. Just keep the blisters clean and dry.”

  “Lucky we have our very own doctor with us.” Sayer gestured at Max’s medical bag. “You were a medic with the Air Force?”

  He stood up straight and saluted. “Proud former Air Force Pararescue at your service. No better field medics anywhere in the world. ‘These things we do, that others may live,’” Max quoted the Pararescue motto.

  Sayer was impressed. All she really knew about Pararescue was that they were the Special Operations teams, sent in to rescue injured soldiers stranded behind enemy lines.

  “Hey, Agent Altair,” Piper called from the entrance to the rock chute. “We’ve cleared away your rock dam and are about to see if there’re any more bodies in the chute. You want to come watch?”

  Sayer decided getting back to work was the best way to get over her wooziness. She thanked Max and hurried over to where Piper and another park ranger stood at the entrance to the chute, holding climbing gear.

&n
bsp; Piper looked down at Sayer’s blistered hands. “Really glad you’re okay.”

  “Thanks.” Sayer jumped down next to the rangers.

  “Sayer, meet Tim. He’s the best spelunker I know.” Piper bowed at the ranger next to her.

  “Thanks for doing this,” Sayer said to the young man.

  “Sure, happy to,” he replied with a slight lisp.

  Piper helped him step into a climbing harness and he moved with quick efficiency setting up a belay line.

  “Let me know if you need more rope. I’ll follow your lead. Call out if you find anything.” Piper fed him some slack.

  The young ranger clicked on his headlamp and, with a genuine smile, eased himself sideways into the crevice. Despite being fairly tall, he folded his body like it was made of taffy.

  Sayer watched them work in perfect tandem, Piper clearly knowing when to pull and when to feed more rope. Sayer could see Tim’s light for a few moments before it disappeared into the long narrow chute.

  Unwilling to break Piper’s concentration, Sayer watched in silence until a small voice echoed up, “One more here.”

  “One more body?” Sayer called down.

  “Yes.” Tim’s voice sounded far away. “Almost to the bottom. It got snagged on rocks. There’s something else. Some kind of…”

  Sayer waited.

  “I think it’s a machete or a sword or something.”

  “Can you take a bunch of photos and then dislodge the body and the machete gently?”

  “Okay.”

  Sayer squinted down into the dark chute as a series of flashes briefly illuminated the claustrophobic space.

  “The body is … mushy,” Tim called up. Then another long pause. A few moments later, the heavy sound of rocks and plastic sliding echoed upward. “The machete is really jammed in here.… Okay, I think I got it. They’re both down in the cavern. I’ll follow them down.”

  Sayer hurried to the rim to let Dana know they had one more body to pull up.

  SOUTHERN RANGER STATION, SHENANDOAH NATIONAL PARK, VA

  Sayer sat in the empty medical area of the ranger station, staring at her phone in the late afternoon light. She’d just hung up with the local police departments to let them know that they had an active killer on the loose.

  Pinching her nose to ward off a headache, Sayer looked over at the small sword wrapped in an evidence bag, then over at the two full body bags lying on two stainless steel tables, then back at her phone. She didn’t want to call Holt, but she knew she’d better report in soon.

  She tried to ignore the vague stench of death permeating the air.

  With a dread-filled sigh, she finally dialed.

  “Holt,” the assistant director barked on the phone. A muted cacophony of voices filled the background. “Make it fast, Sayer, I’m about to walk in to testify.”

  “We just found two fresh bodies in the bone cave.” Sayer spit it out as quickly as possible. With Holt it was never a good idea to beat around the bush.

  “Define fresh.”

  “One only a few days old. The other probably a few weeks or maybe a few months at most. We’ll know more after Dana does the autopsies.”

  “Jesus, Sayer. What the hell did you find, some kind of murder convention? Are the bones and the new bodies related?”

  “No clue.” Sayer sipped cool water, hoping something would soothe her burning throat. Her blistered fingers protested where she curled them around the cup. “The proximity of the victims could point to a connection, but the new bodies were wrapped in plastic. There’s no evidence of similar treatment for the skeletal remains. Those are pretty different methods of disposal.”

  “And I suppose you want to run both investigations.”

  “You know I do.” Sayer let her comment hang. It had been a rough few years. After her fiancé’s death, Sayer had spiraled into a dark place where she’d withdrawn from her friends and family. But breaking her last case and getting shot were like a wake-up call. Or more like a two-by-four to the back of her head. She felt more driven than ever to do what she did best, stopping killers.

  Holt was silent for so long Sayer was about to press her case, but Holt finally said, “All right.”

  Sayer decided to push her luck even further. “Any chance this turns into a task force? Two women dead. Presumably another six or seven people murdered sometime in the past. This could be a local serial killer.” She needed a team of data techs, a profiler, maybe another investigator or two.

  “Not a chance. We’re spread thin as ice in a Kentucky winter. The congressional committee’s got half our agents testifying and the other half helping evaluate old cases. The FBI’s the Wild West of law enforcement right now. I’ve arranged for Dana and her team to stay for the duration. Otherwise you’re on your own.”

  “I at least need Ezra.” Though he was still recovering from the blast that took both of his lower legs, Sayer knew she was going to need Ezra Coen, the best data-cruncher and computer wiz at the FBI.

  “Done. I know he’ll be thrilled,” Holt said.

  Sayer wasn’t so sure, considering the fact that he had lost both his legs as a result of the last case they had worked together.

  “Hang on.” Someone spoke to Holt and she said, her voice muffled, “I’ll be right in.” Her voice returned to the phone. “All right, Sayer, meet me up at Quantico tonight at eight to fill me in. But it’s your investigation. Ezra’s yours for the duration. Use the locals if you need more help. Do it right.” Holt hung up.

  Dana came through the double swinging doors as Sayer put down her phone.

  “I see you spoke with Holt.” She smiled at Sayer’s tight expression. Little arcs of white ointment smeared Dana’s cheeks, covering a smattering of blisters. “We getting a task force?”

  “Holt compared the FBI to the Wild West right now, so doesn’t sound like it.”

  “Yeehaw,” Dana said with a wry smile, whirling her hand over her head like she held a lasso. “Did you tell her about the fire?”

  “I neglected to mention it.…” Sayer refused to give Holt any reason to pull her off these cases.

  “Sayer! You know it’ll be in my report.”

  Sayer ignored her, looking around the sterile room. “Quite the fancy setup, for a ranger station.”

  Dana gave her a hard stare but let it go. “Yeah, they used to run a medical facility. Closed down due to budget cuts.” Dana began unpacking autopsy equipment. “It is perfect. There’s the medical suite here, a main conference room next door, and a bunch of smaller offices down the hall, plus a utility room we can set up for the bones.”

  “What did Max say about security?” After the attack, Sayer wanted to make sure the ranger station could be secured.

  “Piper already arranged for a Rockfish Gap uniform to guard the crime scene. There’re only two ways into the building here. We’ll keep the back door locked up and Piper is going to set up a rotation to make sure there’s a park ranger sitting inside the front door twenty-four seven. With those precautions in place, Max seems confident we’re safe.” Dana pulled on gloves, face serious. “Now, let’s figure out what happened to these victims and nail a bad guy, shall we?”

  “Or bad girl…,” Sayer added, unwilling to assume anything. She watched Dana bustling around the bodies. “Man, I’m glad you’re back.”

  Dana looked up, face pinched. “I wish Jake was here so we could all go out and celebrate after we close this case.”

  Sayer’s throat closed with sudden emotion. Though her fiancé had died on the job almost four years ago, she had only recently discovered that his death wasn’t what it seemed. All she knew was that someone at the FBI was lying about the undercover operation he had been running when he died. She really wanted to talk to Dana about what she’d discovered, but now wasn’t the time.

  “Me too,” she managed to say. “Let’s get these autopsies going. I’ve got to talk to Kyle Nelson about his missing sister at five and I’d like to see what we’ve got here first.�
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  Dana called for an assistant to come help and began to unzip the first body bag. Sayer went to her side, feeling like the hunt was truly about to begin.

  CONGRESSIONAL HEARING CHAMBERS, CAPITOL HILL, WASHINGTON, D.C.

  FBI Assistant Director Janice Holt straightened her emerald-green pantsuit, smoothed her helmet of gray hair, and strode into the congressional hearing chambers with her battle face on. She’d hunted serial killers and stood up to international crime bosses, but this was different. Until recently, she had assumed that the men and women sitting in this room were on her side. Now she knew better.

  Holt made her way to the table at the center of the chamber, where a single chair and microphone awaited. She sat down and looked up at the somber faces staring down at her like a row of clones forged of wealth and wrinkles.

  “Thank you for coming again, Assistant Director Holt,” the man at the center of the dais spoke.

  Senator John DeWitt. Holt had gone to his goddamned wedding. She had been to his home for dinner. And now he stared with cold eyes.

  “I hearby call into session day three of the Quantico Hearings.”

  He shifted in his seat. Good, at least he seemed uncomfortable with this farce. She fully supported an independent investigation into Quantico, but this hearing was nothing more than a politicized sham.

  “Now, Janice”—he spoke her name with a familiarity that made her clench her teeth—“we would like to pick up where we left off talking about SSA Sayer Altair.”

  “All right, John.” She said his name with only a little bit of venom.

  “Very good. So, Janice, you promoted Agent Altair to senior special agent approximately six months ago, just as she began her investigation into the Cage Killings?”

  “Correct.” Holt tried to keep the bark from her voice and failed miserably.

  “And were you aware at that time that she did not meet the official criteria for promotion?”