trouble to pack the dirt here, it didn’t have the solid feel from years of not being disturbed, and after she’d swept it a few times, a sunken impression appeared. “I think I have something,” she said and sat back on her heels again. A strand of hair fell across her eyes, and she blew it back.
Sam peered over her shoulder. “I think you’ve found where the skull was.”
Emma’s stomach bottomed out, and she almost lost the sandwich she’d eaten. Finding where the skull had lain hit her ten times harder than finding the toe bone. Blinking away tears that burned her eyes, she went to work again, looking for anything that would help identify their victim.
24
The church was tastefully decorated. Candles flickered on either side of the altar where he counted the seconds for “Ave Maria” to segue into Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March.” He couldn’t wait to get his first glimpse of Emma in the beautiful princess-style dress he’d picked out. Mother sat on the second row, and he glanced over, giving her a wink. For once he’d made the gentle soul proud.
His mother was thinking how lucky he was that Emma said yes. Emmy, as he’d taken to calling her, would make the perfect daughter-in-law. Slowly his mother’s head turned toward the back of the church. Emmy must be at the door.
Why was his mother frowning? And why was the prelude going on too long? He exchanged worried glances with his mother as she faded from his sight. No! Don’t leave.
Frantically he searched past rows and rows of guests to the back of the church. The wedding march should have started by now. Where was Emma? She should be walking down the aisle. A deathly silence filled the church, and he closed his eyes.
She wasn’t coming.
And it was all Sam Ryker’s fault.
When he opened his eyes again, there were no guests, no church, and he sat in his car.
Ryker was just like Dad. Always ruining everything he touched. Look at Emma’s hand. If it weren’t for Ryker, she wouldn’t have hurt it.
He had to protect Emma from Sam. He pretended to be all nice and concerned on the outside, but when they were alone, Sam Ryker was just nasty. A womanizer. Emotionally abusive. Just like his dad. He’d heard Ryker make fun of Emma, put her down. Oh sure, he’d pretended he was joking.
Ryker wanted Emma. He could see it in his eyes. But the ranger would break her heart.
And he wasn’t going to let that happen. She belonged to him.
Or she wouldn’t belong to anyone.
25
Finding the impression the skull made in the ground had knocked Emma’s feet out from under her. She stared down at where she’d been cleaning. Seeing it drove home in a way the toe bone hadn’t that a person had been murdered and buried here.
“You okay?” Sam asked.
He’d climbed out of the pit, and she looked up. “Yeah,” she said. Emma turned back to the bucket of dirt she’d accumulated and lifted it up to him. “It’s just that . . .” She closed her eyes and shuddered. “All of a sudden, what we’re doing here is too real.”
He knelt and held out his hand. “Why don’t you take a break?” he asked gently.
No, she needed to get this job done so that whoever was buried here could have justice.
Almost as if he’d read her mind, he said, “A short break won’t stop the progress. And it’ll give you the energy to finish.” When she still hesitated, Sam said, “I know how you feel—pretty sure it’s the same thing I feel whenever I investigate the murder of a John Doe. You want to discover the victim’s identity so you can give the family closure.”
Maybe a break would be a good idea. Then she could go back to work refreshed. “Have you investigated many John Doe cases?” she asked once he’d lifted her out of the pit.
“Enough.”
She dusted her knees off and looked back at the hole that was the length and width of a grave. “How do you keep doing it? I never want to do this again.”
“I won’t say you get used to it, because you never do,” he said. “But you learn to distance yourself, kind of like a medical examiner.”
Medical examiner. Emma couldn’t do that job either. “Where did Nate go?”
“To his SUV. He lost reception and wanted to touch base with the office on his radio.”
She looked over the two mounds of dirt. The smaller pile they’d taken out today