Buried

NOWHERE TO HIDE

Fleeing to Alaska is the only option for Leah Marks after witnessing a murder. Afraid for her life, the legal investigator hopes a remote cabin will be a safe shelter. But the killer has tracked her to Mountain Cove. As he chases her into snow-packed Dead Falls Canyon, an avalanche buries them both. Saved by daring search and rescue specialist Cade Warren, Leah longs to tell him the truth. But how can she, without bringing even more danger into Cade’s life? Especially when they discover the killer is very much alive and waiting to take them both down.

Mountain Cove: In the Alaskan wilderness, love and danger collide

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Cade finally asked.

Leah turned away. “Why would you ask that?”

“I don’t know. Something about the way you’ve acted since…well, since I pulled you from the snow. Like you’re scared. Why are you in such a hurry to leave? I thought you were staying in the cabin tonight?”

She glanced at him. “I never said I was staying. I asked you to give me a ride back, that’s all.”

“I just want to help.”

Leah sighed. “I know.

“I could take a look at it for you.” Now why would he offer that up—an attempt to snag her?

“No.” Her reply was too emphatic.

He glanced her way, trying to watch her and the road. To his surprise a timid smile broke through.

“Not tonight, that is,” she added. She was trying to be friendly, warm up to him, but still, it seemed forced.

He risked another glance over and caught her eyes—there he saw the truth. She was terrified and hiding something.

Who are you, Leah Marks?

ELIZABETH GODDARD

is an award-winning author of more than twenty romance and romantic suspense novels, including the romantic mystery The Camera Never Lies—winner of the prestigious Carol Award in 2011. After acquiring her computer science degree, she worked at a software firm before eventually retiring to raise her four children and become a professional writer. A member of several writing organizations, she judges numerous contests and mentors new writers. In addition to writing, she homeschools her children and serves with her husband in ministry.

Buried

Elizabeth Goddard

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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This is how we know what love is:

Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters.

—1 John 3:16

This story is dedicated to all the true heroes in the world—men and women who risk their lives for others.

It takes many people to write a novel and I thank my wonderful and amazing family first and foremost—my husband and children who let me spend hours far away from them in another world. Thanks to Shannon McNear—you are always there for me! I couldn’t do it without you, friend. Writer friends Kathleen Y’Barbo Miller and Kellie Gilbert assisted me in figuring out my legal matters. I especially appreciate the technical expertise from my new friends in Juneau. I couldn’t have come close to getting things right without the time and detail they offered. Bill Glude of the Alaska Avalanche Center, Doug Wessen, president of the Mountain Rescue Association, and my friend who works for the US Forest Service in Juneau.

If I got anything wrong, that’s all on me, but remember, I write fiction, and I created a whole new town.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Acknowledgments

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

EPILOGUE

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Extract

Copyright

ONE

Mountain Cove, Alaska, North of Juneau

Gasping for breath, Leah Marks ran for her life, working her way through the deep snow from last night’s winter storm, the semiautomatic in her pocket pressing into her side. What she wouldn’t give for a pair of snowshoes.

How had Detective Snyder found her here?

At least she’d seen him from a distance, giving her a few more precious seconds to make a run for it. She had to escape. She wouldn’t use her weapon against him unless she had no other choice. Shooting a police detective, even if he was a dirty cop and a killer, wouldn’t win her any points no matter which way you looked at it.

Approaching Dead Falls Canyon, she left the tree line and took the biggest steps she could, her hips aching with the effort. She couldn’t outrun him this way, but she reassured herself with the fact that he struggled with the same obstacles.

The deep snow would hide the hazards, and Leah counted on that. As she made her way, a snowcapped Mount McCann loomed in her peripheral vision. She’d spent enough time on the ski patrol in the Cascades during her college days to recognize the avalanche risk was high.

As she entered the danger zone, a glance over her shoulder told her Snyder was gaining on her. As strong as she was, she couldn’t keep up this pace, and as if to confirm the thought, she stumbled headlong into the powder. Leah grappled and fought her way out, gulping panic with each breath.

With her fall, she’d have to turn and face him much sooner than she’d hoped. Leaving town and hiding in an off-grid cabin in Alaska hadn’t bought her enough time. Hadn’t bought her safety.

“Leah!” he called, his voice much too close.

Heart hammering, she turned to stand her ground. Stared into his stone-cold eyes. Breathing hard, he flashed a knife as he approached; smirking because he’d finally cornered her.

Dressed to kill, he was in black from head to toe—a dead giveaway against the white-carpeted mountains.

So that’s what death looked like.

Funny that she’d worn white camouflage hoping to remain hidden, for all the good that had done.

Cold dread twisted up her spine. She thrust her hand into her pocket to reach for her weapon.

It was gone.

No! She must have lost it when she’d fallen. Snyder now stood between her and the snow she’d crushed with her tumble. Between her and her gun.

“Give me what I want, Leah.” His dark eyes flashed from the opening in his ski mask.

“Why? So you can kill me like you killed Tim?” She had no idea what Snyder wanted from her, what he thought she had, but she’d witnessed him commit murder. No way would he let her live.

A thunderous snap resounded above them.

A crack appeared in the white stuff beneath Leah Marks’s boots.

The ground shifted.

Before she could react, before she could think, the avalanche swept her away—swept Snyder away, too—along with everything she’d been taught about how to survive. Carried away by a daunting, crushing force, heavy and swift to kill, she was helpless to stop the power that gripped her with icy fingers.

Roared in her ears.

Terror seized her as the megaton of white powder ushered her along to a frozen grave, an untimely death, as though she was nothing more than a twig. One brutal way to die had been exchanged for another.

And then...

Her body slowed before easing to a stop. The snow settled and held her inside.

Frozen silence encased her, shrouded her in muted gray light.

Think. What did she do now? Something. There was something she must do and she must be quick. To act before the snow compressed around her.

Fear temporarily gave way to determination as survival tactics filled her thoughts. She took in a breath to expand her chest, give her breathing room. With her left hand near her face, she scooped snow away from her mouth and nose before it hardened completely. These things she did while thrusting her arm toward the surface in what she thought was the right direction. If only she could breach the packed snow and force her hand through. Before she could complete that one last task, increasing her chance of survival, it was all over. There was no more give to the snow—it had locked into place.

Buried alive. She couldn’t move.

Icy grayness weighed on her.

She wouldn’t dig her way out of this one. She hadn’t planned for things to turn out this way. Panic the likes of which she’d never known choked her, compelling her to gasp for air.

That would kill her faster. She had to conserve her oxygen.

Inhale...exhale...

Minutes. She had minutes, if that, thanks to the small air pocket she’d created. She’d been given another chance to live, one small chance in a million. Or maybe she would die, but at least Snyder wouldn’t be the one to kill her.

Calming her breaths, she prayed someone would find her in time.

But if that prayer was answered by the wrong someone...

She was dead anyway.

* * *

From the helicopter, Cade Warren stared at the northeast face of Mount McCann, struggling to remember the innocence and joy of a carefree childhood spent in the mountain’s shadow. But the images from two days ago still haunted him.

Snowboarders out seeking a thrill. Kids who believed they were invincible. By the time they’d called him to assess the avalanche danger for a search and rescue team, the victims were already dead.

Beside Cade, his friend and coworker Isaiah Callahan flew the helicopter deep into the hidden mountain crags.

Cade scraped a hand over his rough jaw. They did more searching than rescuing.

He pushed the thought away, reminding himself that that wasn’t what they were there for this time. Today they were supposed to forecast the mountain, assess the avalanche threat in their roles as avalanche specialists.

“I don’t get it,” Cade said. “Why don’t people read the forecasts?”

“They read them.” Isaiah directed the helicopter to the right, angling a little too sharply for comfort. “They think it won’t happen to them.”

People didn’t want to pay attention, which was why Cade’s father had always struggled to get enough funding for the Mountain Cove Avalanche Center he’d founded. With his death, his father’s frustration had now become Cade’s.

The death tolls this week had been brutal, making Cade even more determined to do his job. He turned his attention back to the mountain. In the distance he could see the glaciers spilling from the Juneau Icefield.

Strange that in spite of all his expertise, his father had died in an avalanche, trying to rescue someone. Cade was still trying to make sense of it all.

The one thing he knew was that his father had a reputation with the town of Mountain Cove as a real hero—a reputation that Cade strived to earn for himself. But he doubted he’d ever come close to being the hero his father had been.

“So far we have what—two hundred potential snow slides?” Isaiah asked.

Before he could answer, Cade’s pager went off. He pulled it from its clip and looked at the screen.

This is a callout for SAR on an avalanche in Dead Falls Canyon...two victims. Meet at Crank Point. Respond on Code One frequency... Case No. 5547.

Cade stiffened. Not another one. He glanced at Isaiah. “Dead Falls Canyon. We can get there in time.”

His pulse ratcheted up.

Maybe today he could make a difference.

Isaiah grinned his agreement and steered the helicopter east. First responders rarely made it in time to dig someone out of an avalanche. Cade and Isaiah were already in the air, near the avalanche.

They could serve as the immediate action team.

While Isaiah flew them over the harsh winter terrain of the backcountry, Cade communicated their plans, even as he wondered how and why someone would be in the remote area, especially after last night’s storm.

The call had come in three minutes ago. Cade set his stopwatch to track the critical first fifteen minutes. They only had twelve left, if the witness had made the call immediately. Cade went over a list in his head, glad they always carried equipment in the helicopter for such an occasion. Probe. Shovel. And they each wore a transceiver at all times, in case the unthinkable happened and the helicopter crashed. There was also bivouac gear in the event they were stranded on the mountain.

Maybe today would be the day he could save a life instead of recover a body.

Eight minutes.

Cade tensed, praying that the area would be stable, that he would know where to search. Even if they arrived in time, there were safety issues to consider. They’d need to examine the crown and path for debris, look for ski poles, gloves, goggles—anything that might tell them where to look.

Right around the ridge, Dead Falls Canyon came into view—a deep chasm, rugged and lethal, in the heart of avalanche country. Cade tensed at the ominous sight. Breath forced from his chest as though he were the victim crushed in the slide.

Isaiah sucked in air. “A big one.”

“No kidding.” Cade looked at the crown where the avalanche began, then down over the resulting debris field. “Six, seven hundred feet wide. Eight hundred long.”

“Could be ten, twelve feet deep in some places, Cade. What do you want to do?”

“Get me down there.”

“You sure it’s safe?”

Is it ever? But whoever was buried, if they were still alive, would die if he didn’t do something now. He hadn’t been there to save his father that day and he’d never forgiven himself.

“I’ll take my chances.” Five minutes left on the stopwatch.

He swallowed. It could take him longer than that to find the victim much less dig them out.

“Someone’s waving at us down there,” Isaiah said.

“The witness,” Cade mumbled under his breath when he spotted someone layered in winter wear. He wasn’t digging, but maybe he could give a few more details about where the victims were last seen on the slope.

“There’s no place to land here,” Isaiah pointed out, hovering the helicopter over the snow. “I’ll need to toe in, touch one ski down while you grab your gear. I’ll find somewhere to land, if possible, and hike over to help you.”

Cade stared at his friend—a man he’d grown close to over the past three years. “Don’t set her down. Don’t even think about joining me until you assess the avalanche danger.”

Isaiah didn’t have a degree in glaciology like Cade. Didn’t have the years of training under a mentor like Cade’s father that Cade had.

Of the two of them, Cade was far better prepared—and it still might not be enough. At thirty-three, he didn’t have near the experience or training he needed. He’d lost his father much too soon.

“Understood?” Cade stared him down.

“Aye, aye, captain.” Isaiah saluted him.

Three minutes.

Isaiah touched the helicopter down long enough for Cade to grab the trauma kit, gear up with his equipment and step out. The landing zone was tight, and Cade kneeled next to the helicopter, the whop-whop-whop of the rotor blades drowning out all other sounds. He gave Isaiah the thumbs-up and watched the helicopter lift off and away.

The witness headed in Cade’s direction and, in turn, he hurried toward the man, hoping to get the needed information. In the meantime he turned his beacon from transmit to receive and prayed for a signal.

Cade wanted to know what the witness was doing out here in the first place when the avalanche danger was considerable, but there was no time. Two lives were in the balance.

His ski mask hiding everything but his eyes, the man pointed to a place between the trees a few yards away. Not good. “Over there. I think I saw them—a man and a woman—go down, but it’s hard to tell where they ended up.”

Knowing the range of his beacon, Cade nodded and hurried to where the man pointed, moving down the center of the debris field, listening, looking for that life-saving signal. And then he locked on to that precious sound.

There was a chance...

He marked the spot.

Please, God, let me save this one.

He’d trained for this moment so many times—learned how to locate a beacon and dig quickly. He knew how to assemble his probe without wasting precious seconds. But rarely had he had the chance to use this particular set of skills with the real possibility of finding a survivor.

Two minutes...

Cade hoped to be a hero today, even though he’d never live up to his father’s reputation. Pulse pounding, he reined in his chaotic thoughts, shut out the fear and panic. Stayed focused on the tried-and-true rescue strategies that worked.

Heart bursting, he assembled his probe—an eight-foot collapsible rod. He drove it into the packed snow, hoping to feel something—someone—beneath the surface. He kept searching and probing until finally the probe hit what felt like pay dirt only a few feet down.

A few feet and not ten or twelve or twenty.

God, please...

He tossed his probe to the man who’d witnessed the avalanche. “Start probing for the other victim.”

Cade’s breath hitched as he thrust the shovel into the snow, hoping he’d made the right decision to send the other man away. Then Isaiah appeared by Cade’s side and helped with the digging.

Within a couple of feet they reached a hand.

Thirty seconds left on the clock and counting...

Sweat poured from Cade in spite of the cold, in spite of the fact that he was in top physical condition for his job. Together, he and Isaiah created a tunnel into the snow, searching for the face that connected to the hand. No time to stop to check for a pulse when seconds counted.

There!

“Establish an airway, stat!”

They dug the snow out and away from the pinched features of a young woman so that she could breathe. Vivid blue-green eyes blinked up in surprise and relief, sending his heart into his throat. She was still alive—though he wasn’t done saving her yet. If they didn’t free her completely and soon, she could still die in her icy grave from hypothermia or internal bleeding. Also, Cade couldn’t forget she hadn’t been alone.

“You search for the other victim. I’ve got this,” Cade told Isaiah. “I could only get one beacon signal, though.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I can dig her out.” But he couldn’t tolerate letting someone die when they could save both victims. Even though they’d passed the first fifteen minutes, victims had been known to survive up to two hours on rare occasions. For the first time in a long time, Cade was on the scene in time and every choice he made could save.

Or kill.

Isaiah left his side. From his peripheral vision, Cade saw him set his beacon and assemble his probe to search for the other victim. But where had their witness gone?

Great.

Failing to keep track of the witness would be a mark against him within the search and rescue team ranks.

No time to worry about him. Cade stared down into the air tunnel and concentrated on digging out this survivor—fortunate beyond reason—careful to avoid collapsing the tunnel, the only thing keeping her alive.

TWO

Leah sucked in a breath, trying to push down the rising panic. Except for her right arm, she couldn’t move her body. But at least she could breathe. She blinked up at her rescuer—warmth and respite spilling from his determined eyes, the fierce green of a country spring in the mountains. Streaks of snow clung to his coffee-colored, wavy hair, and though he looked a little rough around the edges, he wasn’t Snyder—the man who needed her dead.

Relief filled her and overflowed in an exhale accompanied by a few whimpers. She hated the sound, hated the weakness it conveyed. If she were standing right now, her legs would quiver, unable to hold her weight.

“It’s okay. You’re going to be fine. I’m digging you out now.” Though his eyes held an urgent and untempered concern, his smile reassured her. “My name’s Cade, by the way.”

That’s right, keep talking in those soothing tones.

Cade, wearing the usual thick snow-country gloves, breathed hard as he expertly thrust the snow shovel in and around her, moving the iced powder almost as efficiently as a mechanical snowplow. He’d uncovered her torso and had started digging out her legs.

“What’s your name?”

She wasn’t sure what name she could trust him with. She didn’t want anyone to know she was here, much less know her name. Telling this man could put him in danger, too. She’d been hiding in the remote wilderness cabin, in fact, when Detective Snyder had sniffed her out and come to kill her. Panic set in and she glanced around at her limited view. Where was he? Had he been buried, too?

Oh, God, please... But she hated herself for wishing him dead.

“It’s okay if you’re unable to give me your name,” he said.

He probably thought she was in shock. And she was.

“Is there someone I should call? Friends or family?”

“No.” Her cold answer iced over her heart. It wasn’t a lie.

“Can you tell me if you have any pain—how bad it is on a scale of one to ten?”

She felt numb and cold at the same time; stiff, as though rigor mortis had already set in. Oh, no...was she paralyzed? Had the impact broken her back?

With the shifting snow she tried to move her body. Her legs responded. Thank You, God. And there wasn’t any pain.

“No, I don’t think I’m injured. I don’t know.” How could she be sure if something hurt until she was completely free? She felt so numb, she couldn’t really tell.

His chuckle lightened the seriousness of her near death. By the look in his eyes, that had been his intention. She liked his laugh, but it was hard to trust, even in someone who had rescued her.

“Almost there.” He threw the shovel aside and began scooping snow away from her back and legs.

Leah shifted and moved, and the sheer freedom of that act left her with the daunting awareness that she’d almost died on this mountain today—twice. The thought pressed in on her, suffocating her. This man digging her out only knew the half of it.

As she started to climb to freedom, Cade grabbed her and gently lifted her out as though she weighed nothing at all. He then set her to the side, away from the hole that had almost been her tomb.

“You sure nothing’s broken?” He assessed her limbs with practiced skill.

Again she moved her arms and legs. “No, nothing’s broken. Nothing’s crushed inside or I’d be in pain, wouldn’t I?”

He pulled something from a pack—a thermal blanket—and wrapped it around her. Crouched next to her, he wouldn’t stop staring at her, until finally Leah had to look away.