Stay Buried: Orchard Falls, #1

1

"C hicken!" Twelve-year-old John Ryder made sounds to resemble a big fat clucking hen as the cars whizzed by his brother and him. They were waiting patiently for the traffic to thin as they straddled their bikes on the south side of

Route

20

.

Adam, who was scrawny and only eight, shot daggers at John as he clutched the handlebars of his brand new twenty-inch. I’m not a chicken! His voice was squeaky as he shouted his response over the roars of engines zooming past. He reached up and gave his shiny red helmet a tug as if he was worried it might

fall

off

.

John clucked again then laughed at him. "

Are

too

."

Am not. Adam stuck out his tongue. Besides, Dad said we’re not allowed to cross this road. It’s too dangerous.

Well, he’s not going to find out unless you run home and tattle to Karen. Tattletale.

I’m not a tattletale. Adam stuck out his chin defiantly.

"

Are

too

."

"

Am

not

."

You told on me just last week when you saw me kissing Jamie Gillette after school.

"Because it was gross. Why were you kissing her

anyway

,

John

?"

"You wouldn’t understand. You’re just a kid. The same way you didn’t understand why Dad married Karen

last

year

."

I know why. Because they wanted to have babies. Karen told me they got married so the stork could bring them the twins.

Adam was referring to their baby brothers. They were a month old today and everyone was fussing over them like it was a big darn deal. Even Adam. John almost laughed. The kid probably still thought babies were delivered by the stork. But John knew different. He knew the truth. It was because his dad wanted to have sex. That was what his best friend Mike Dawson had said. Mike had an older brother who knew everything, so it must

be

true

.

But John knew their dad was lonely. That’s why he wanted to marry Karen. It wasn’t because she was pretty or anything, because she was just okay. And all right, maybe his dad wanted to have sex with

her

too

.

There were lots of things Adam didn’t know. Like that their dad cried sometimes when he looked at old pictures of their mom. She’d died right after Adam was born. A bad heart or something like that. Their dad would never talk much

about

it

.

For a while John had thought it might be nice having a mom around. He didn’t really remember his real mom. But the minute Karen moved into their house she started talking about how much fun it would be to have a baby. Why? The twins sure didn’t seem like much fun. They seemed like a lot of work, and Karen was always tired. Too tired to do anything fun. She never wanted to go to the lake house anymore, or stop to get an ice cream cone. Heck she couldn’t even drive them to soccer practice. He and Adam had to get a ride with a neighbor if they wanted to continue playing. And yet her eyes lit up around those babies. That was all she and his dad talked about anymore. The twins. He was a little sick of hearing about them. He didn’t hate his baby brothers, but it’s not like he was ever going to have anything in common with them. How could he? They were babies. And by the time John graduated from high school they would only be six. Younger than Adam

was

now

.

In fact, Adam was just a baby himself. Which was why he was afraid to cross the highway on his bike. It wasn’t a big deal. John had done it twice now. Piece

of

cake

.

When the traffic cleared he glanced over at his brother. Okay, I’m going to cut across now. If you want to hang out with me, you’d better quit being so chicken. Come on. Then he pedaled like crazy to get across the four-lane highway. He’d made it all the way to the other side when he realized Adam wasn’t behind him. John braked and turned his bike to face the opposite side of the road. His brother wasn’t coming. Chicken, he mumbled under his breath and took off. Adam would probably run home and tattle for sure, and John really didn’t care right now. But he hadn’t gotten far when he thought he heard someone calling

his

name

.

"John! Wait

up

,

John

!"

John glanced over his shoulder and froze. There was Adam chasing after him. John looked up one way and down the other then waved for his brother to go back. A semi was barreling down the highway and it didn’t look like Adam had even

seen

it

.

Go back! John waved his arms and shouted at him again. Go back, you idiot!

Adam grinned, obviously proud of himself for having the courage to follow his older brother. But it was

too

late

.

John heard the screech of tires and brakes just before seeing his brother’s shiny red helmet bounce down the highway.

John Ryder sprung upright and sucked in a lungful of air. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled. His body was slick with sweat. A damn nightmare again .

It was always one of two dreams. Either he was running while trying to dodge stray bullets in Syria last year or his brother was getting hit by that semi eighteen years ago. He glanced down at his side, ran his thumb along the scars under his rib cage where the bullets had sprayed, traced the scar over his heart. Once his breathing subsided he slid out of bed, showered, dressed and threw some last minute things into his bag that sat near the

bedroom

door

.

He smelled coffee as he made his way down the hall of the three-bedroom ranch home. He set his bags by the front door and walked over to the coffee table. Tammy Goodwin was snoring away on the sofa, her blonde hair a tangled mess. An empty gin bottle lay on the floor in front of her. He sighed and strode into the kitchen.

Tammy’s daughter Dana sat at the kitchen table, poring over what looked like a textbook. A mug of coffee sat on the table in front of her. She looked up when she saw him, pushed a strand of blonde hair from her face. She looked a lot like her mother must have when she was a teenager. But the years had been cruel to Tammy. Her eyes were dull, and she rarely smiled.

You’re up early. He grabbed a mug from the cupboard and filled it with hot

steamy

brew

.

"I wanted to study a little more for my finals, and I wanted to say

good

-

bye

."

We said our good-byes last night. He rested his hip against the counter and sipped at his coffee.

I know, but I . . . She waved a hand. "It sucks,

you

know

?"

All had been said the night before. It was time for him to go. "

I

know

."

"Ryder, I understand why you’re going home. If my dad was dying of cancer I would want to be there too. But I don’t understand why you’re not coming

back

here

."

He didn’t answer, took another drink from his mug. That wasn’t the only reason he was going home but he didn’t tell her that. Dana was right. He could always visit his sick father and then return to Scottsdale. Once his father passed he didn’t know where he would end up, but it was definitely not going to be Arizona.

"It’s because of my mom, isn’t it? Because she’s an alcoholic. That’s why you’re not

coming

back

."

Dana. There was an edge of warning in his voice.

"I’m not a kid anymore. I know she has a drinking problem, even though she always

denies

it

."

Your mother’s been through a lot. Having a baby at fifteen couldn’t have been easy for her. And then losing your dad . . . He shrugged.

Why did you even get involved with her? I mean, she’s older than you. Right?

A few years.

"Did you ever

love

her

?"

Again, he didn’t answer. He wasn’t about to explain to a seventeen-year-old things he didn’t even understand himself. But he had to tell her something. We needed each other at the time. He’d known when Tammy and her daughter had moved in with him last year that he wasn’t in love. It was right after he’d gotten shot, saw his life pass before his eyes. Maybe he should have ended things before they went that far. But Tammy had been the one to say it was only sex between them. That she would only ever have one love, and that man had been shot and killed while doing a tour in Afghanistan several years ago. Ryder could relate. And still he’d let her move in with him, share his bed. It seemed safe. Not only for her, but for

him

too

.

Dana looked down, her hair falling forward. Then she sucked in a breath and faced him again. She forced a smile to her face. I’m not going to cry when you leave.

"

Good

girl

."

I’m serious, Ryder.

He smiled and nodded. I was going to leave this for you. He dug an envelope out of his pocket and carried it across the kitchen. He set it on the table.

"What

is

it

?"

It’s the deed to the house. It’s in your name now. It’s all paid for. And there’s a little cash to help with your school expenses.

"Seriously? But why? Is this because you feel guilty for leaving Mom

and

me

?"

No. It’s because I like you. I see potential. Just promise to get good grades, like I know you will. He’d been able to save quite a bit of money over the last ten years. It was amazing what the government was willing to pay the guys who worked on secret ops missions. Probably because there was a good chance a lot of them weren’t going to make it out alive. You only had so many lives. Sooner or later your number was up. He supposed it was a good thing he’d been shot and his services were no longer needed. Just like that. Slam, bam, thank you ma’am. Unless, of course, he’d wanted a desk job, which he didn’t.

Her bottom lip quivered. "I’m never going to see you again.

Am

I

?"

Ryder finished his coffee in two large gulps, took his mug to the sink. "Being that I’m going to be living in Pennsylvania and you’re here in Arizona, I kind of

doubt

it

."

She stood then, went to him and threw her arms around his middle. He hugged her to his chest and kissed the top of her head. It was the first time they’d ever hugged and it would also be

the

last

.

Maybe he’d been a fool for not flying across the country, Ryder decided, rubbing at his stiff neck and arching his back as he drove. But he hated the idea of someone else being in control of his life, even if it was for only a few hours on a plane. Besides, it would have been a nightmare trying to take his guns along. He didn’t need that kind of hassle .

He’d stopped at some ratty ass motel in Bumfuck, Kentucky early this morning and caught a few hours of sleep before driving on. He should be in Orchard Falls before dark. He’d stay at the lake house for a while, at least until he decided where he wanted to set up camp. With the new business he planned to start he could operate from anywhere. Hell, maybe he’d even offer to buy the lake house from his dad. He’d always loved that place. It was peaceful. Except for that night twelve

years

ago

.

He hadn’t been home in years. And on the few occasions he’d gone back he’d been miserable. He and his father barely spoke since Adam had died. Austin Ryder had never forgiven his oldest son for what had happened.

Ryder supposed he couldn’t blame the man. He was the older brother. He should have been looking out for Adam, not daring him to do something dangerous like crossing a busy highway on his bike. Stupid.

He wondered what he was supposed to say to his father now that his days were limited. Should he try to apologize one last time? Or should he just let it go? Would his father go to his grave still hating him? Probably. Was he okay with that? He really didn’t have a choice,

did

he

?

He’d thought way back when that being sent away to military school was punishment enough for letting his brother die, but he’d learned very quickly how wrong he had been. His father hadn’t sent him there to straighten him out. He’d sent him away because he couldn’t stand the sight of him. That had been the real punishment. Not being loved by his father. But Ryder didn’t regret the education or the training he had received. It was the reason he had been recruited by the government to join special forces.

He had always thought they’d picked guys without family or loved ones to go on secret ops missions. Probably because they were more expendable, and because they wouldn’t have people questioning them about where they were going, what the next mission was. So he was surprised when he’d been approached as a candidate. Then he’d realized he didn’t have a reason to go back home. His family was basically estranged. He had a father who hated his guts, a stepmom he barely knew and twin brothers who were twelve years younger than him. Why not pick someone

like

him

?

His brain was clouded with the past as he drove along the interstate, which is why he almost missed the dark blue pickup swerving in front of him. Ryder stepped on the brake pedal and fought to keep his SUV on the road as the pickup bounced over the median strip and suddenly came to

a

halt

.

What the fuck? Ryder pulled over to the shoulder and jumped out of his SUV. Was the driver drunk or what? He sucked in a lungful of polluted air, his heart catching in his throat, and then shot across the highway. He went to the driver’s side of the stranger’s pickup. He’d seen two heads in the truck. A man and a woman. But before he had a chance to inquire if they were okay, he heard whining. In front of the truck sat a dog, licking his injured back paw. He was mostly white, with a few black patches on his back and one around his

right

eye

.

Hey, boy. Ryder approached the dog carefully, not wanting to spook him. He didn’t want him to run out into traffic and get hit a second time. He was grateful he hadn’t seen the dog get hit. It probably would have freaked him out. After what had happened to Adam, he couldn’t stand seeing car accidents, even on a

television

show

.

Hopefully, the truck had only nicked the dog’s paw. He held out his hand so the dog could sniff it just as the door to the pickup

swung

open

.

Out hopped a man in his forties with a scruffy beard. Did you see what that mutt did? He ran right out in front of me. Damn dog. He could have killed me and my wife. I ought to shoot him and put him out of his misery.

Ryder straightened to his full height and glared at the man. I don’t think that’s necessary.

I have a shotgun in my pickup.

I said that isn’t necessary. Ryder had put more force in his words this time. He’d be damned if he’d let this guy shoot a helpless animal.

The man met Ryder’s gaze. Well we can’t just leave him here. He might cause another accident.

Glancing at the dog’s paw, Ryder noticed the bleeding wasn’t bad. He bent down, rubbed at his head. You okay, boy? He wasn’t wearing a collar. And he didn’t look like anyone’s pet. He was dirty and smelly, and was that a flea he had seen burrowing in the short fur near his ear? Ryder blew out a long breath, then lifted the dog into

his

arms

.

What are you doing? the man asked.

"I’m getting him out

of

here

."

The man shook his head and grumbled something as he stomped back to his truck. Ryder willed his heart to stop racing then cut across the highway with the dog. Still to this day, he got nervous whenever he had to cross a street or watch others do the same. He could live in a desert for weeks—months even, chase terrorists across a foreign country and dodge bullets. And yet crossing a street was more terrifying than any of those things.

He set the dog down on the ground on the passenger side of his SUV and examined the paw more closely. The bleeding seemed to have stopped. Stay! He pointed a finger at the mutt as he made the command and surprisingly enough the dog listened. Opening the back of his vehicle he dug in one of his bags and pulled out an old t-shirt. He ripped it down the middle, pulled a strip from it and snagged a bottle of water before closing the

back

end

.

Ryder rinsed the dog’s paw with a little water then wrapped it with the strip of fabric and tied a knot. Thirsty? He tipped the bottle and let the water drizzle out a little at a time. The dog did his best to catch it with his tongue. He didn’t have a cup or bowl or anything so this would have to do for now. Once the dog stopped drinking he opened the passenger door. "Want to go for

a

ride

?"

The dog eagerly jumped inside and settled himself on the seat. Ryder hurried around to the other side and climbed behind the wheel. Boy, do you ever smell. And you had better not piss in here. The dog put his head down with a whimper.

He wondered where the nearest vet would be. He could use his phone to do a search. But Orchard Falls was only another ninety miles away. The dog certainly wasn’t going to die by then. They could

make

it

.

It was after eight—Mondays and Wednesdays were her late nights—and Caroline Appleby was about to lock up and go home when the glass door to the clinic opened. In walked a man, carrying a dog whose paw had been covered with a scrap of fabric. But it wasn’t the injured paw that had caught her attention. It was the dog’s owner .

He was tall, lean and muscular with eyes the color of two shiny black marbles. His hair was long and dark and shaggy, and with the stubble on his jawline it was obvious he hadn’t shaved in a few days. Unless his razor was set at the I’m-hot setting. As if he knew women would toss their panties at him just for the chance to be noticed. Not that she planned on doing that. No matter how hot

he

was

.

He had a tiny scar on his left cheek, which made him look all the more dangerous and interesting. He was the type of man who made women go weak at the knees. She knew this because he’d made her do just that once when she’d been young and foolish. What the hell was John Ryder doing back in Orchard Falls?

She’d heard he was in the military. The Marines, if she remembered correctly. Off fighting terrorists in some third world country somewhere. She didn’t expect to ever see him again.

Are you still open? His voice was deep, rich and gravelly as he strolled toward the counter.

His t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and was tucked into snug fitting jeans that sat low on his hips. The muscles that rippled beneath that shirt gave him power. A chunk of hair slid down over his brow. His face was tanned with a few tiny wrinkles around his mouth and eyes but he was way better looking now than he had been at eighteen. God he was hot, and boy how he

knew

it

.

Did he not recognize her? No hello, how are you? Obviously, he was still angry with her after all these years. She frowned and pushed her glasses higher on her nose. "Not really, but if it’s serious I’d be happy to take

a

look

."

"He got hit by a pickup truck. The wound might be superficial, but I’d feel better if you checked

him

out

."

Sure. Just follow me. She pointed toward an examination room that had already been cleaned for the night. Oh well. She’d just wipe it down before she left so the techs wouldn’t have to do it in the morning.

She pushed on the swinging door and went to the cabinet to get her stethoscope. John stood the dog on the table and stroked his head. She listened to the dog’s heartbeat, picked up her penlight, looked in his eyes, ears and inside his mouth. Tension bubbled within her. She didn’t like it when people had animals but didn’t bother to take good care of them. Which was obviously the case here. Caroline treated her pets like family. Would never dream of neglecting them in

any

way

.

Unwrapping the dog’s paw, and unable to control her emotions, she glared at John. Then she inspected the wounded paw before cleaning it with an antiseptic cloth and

bandaging

it

.

I’ll be right back. She left the room to go to the medicine supply cabinet. The dog needed antibiotics. She came back armed with several items and placed them in a plastic bag. Flea preventatives, flea shampoo, toothbrush and paste included. After giving the dog a shot in the scruff of his neck, she handed the bag to John. "There

you

go

."

What’s all that stuff? he asked.

"Things your pet needs. He needs a bath, a flea bath, she stressed. But I don’t suggest traumatizing the poor thing anymore tonight. His teeth need brushed at least once a week. I saw a couple loose ones, so you should probably make an appointment to get them professionally cleaned."

His teeth need brushed?

Seriously

? "

Yes

."

I thought dogs just chewed biscuits and that would do the trick.

Moron. His gums should be bright pink and they’re not, which means he’s probably a little dehydrated, so be sure to give him plenty of water. He’s to take three of those pills a day and that will kill any infection.

John just stared

at

her

.

"By the way, what’s your

dog’s

name

?"

"I don’t have

a

dog

."

What?

"He’s not my dog. He was hit by a truck on the interstate, over in Ohio, and I thought rather than try to find a vet there I’d just bring him back to town

with

me

."

Oh. Okay, so maybe she had misjudged him. She gave her white lab coat a tug and straightened her shoulders.

"Do you know anyone who might want

a

dog

?"

She frowned. She hated it when people gave away their pets. Not that it was his dog to begin with. She stared at the poor little mutt. He looks like a bandit.

"

Excuse

me

?"

Bandit. Because of the black patch around his eye. You should call him Bandit.

"I’m not calling him anything. I told you. He’s not my dog. And I’m not

keeping

him

."

Well you can’t expect me to take him. She already had three cats, two dogs and a bird. People in town were probably starting to talk about her. Poor Caroline with all those animals and no man to love. Not that she needed or wanted a man to love. Okay, maybe on occasion she thought it would be nice to have one. But that was only because she was going to turn thirty in a few months. And everyone knew what happened to women who turned thirty and didn’t have any prospects. There were plenty of single guys out there, but none that interested her. Besides, it wasn’t the man she wanted as much as she wanted a baby. She’d told herself it was just a phase but she knew down deep it wasn’t that at all. Ever since her brother Jared and his wife Lorraine had come home from the hospital with little Ethan last year it was all she could think about.

"Can’t you keep him here at the clinic until you find a home

for

him

?"

No. She stared at him across the counter, the dog standing

between

them

.

"

Why

not

?"

Because it’s not what I do. I’m a veterinarian. I treat animals. I don’t shelter them. Besides, he’d have to be caged and no one will be here tonight. He’d be all alone. He’s better off with you for the night. And tomorrow you can take him to the animal shelter. She hated the idea of the little guy going to the shelter. In the morning she would try to find someone sympathetic enough to take him in. She smoothed a hand over her hair, straightened her ponytail then adjusted her glasses on the bridge of

her

nose

.

I don’t know what to do with a damn dog. I don’t even have a permanent residence at the moment.

Shhh. She brought a finger to her lips. "He can hear you,

you

know

?"