Page 51 of Obsession

He laughed with her. “I’ll go with the second.”

Emma grabbed the brush and a dental pick. Once back in the pit, she scraped layer after layer of dirt, looking for more small bones. Forty minutes into her promised hour, none had materialized.

If the person had been buried with their shoes on, could the shoes still be intact? If they were leather, possibly. Had the thiefdropped the phalange when he moved the body? If so, the bone would have been on top of the ground, not buried. She looked at the bone again. Was it possible their thief pressed it into the dirt when he was trying to cover up the other indentations? So many questions and so few answers.

A shadow crossed where she worked, and Emma sat back on her heels and looked up. Nate had joined them.

“How’s it coming?”

“Okay. I’m thinking about moving my search toward the other end of the pit, where the skull should be.”

“Makes sense,” Nate said.

Sam picked up a trowel. “I keep trying to convince her to let me help.”

“You’ll get your clothes dirty.”

“I can change.”

Nate scratched his chin. “Looks to me like there’s room for both of you if you’re working at different ends. It would cut our time in half, so let’s try it.”

She’d been able to block Sam from her mind with him standing on the ground above her. If he was in the pit, it would be impossible to be unaware of his presence, but it didn’t look like she had much choice.

Emma quickly moved her tools to the other end of the grave while Sam went to change. When he returned, he dropped down into the hole. His musky aftershave brought the memory of how electricity had arced between them last night. She hadn’t admitted it to herself then, but she was disappointed he hadn’t kissed her.

She shook the thoughts off and concentrated on the dirt she scraped away. Emma had thought she’d removed all the loose dirt earlier, but she’d been wrong. The dirt she was scraping now wasn’t compact and dense, at least not like the other end. She went a little deeper with her trowel, then repeated the action. Maybe she should move over a little and go to work closer tothe top of the wall. Her heart stilled when she hit solid ground, and she quickly exchanged the trowel for a brush.

Even though the person had gone to a lot of 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.

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