Page 149 of The Grave Artist

“Where is he, Lauren?”

She pointed her chin toward the desert.

The gesture covered about a hundred square miles.

“Is he dead?”

“Maybe.”

Which could mean any number of things.

“Tell me, Lauren.”

“No.”

“You’ll go to jail for the rest of your life. With these aggravated circumstances, there’ll be no possibility of parole. You’ll never see the light of day again.”

Lauren’s eyes became wild. “Why should I care? He took my brother away from me. The only person who lifted a hand to help me. I’m an addict and no one else gives a shit.”

Carmen sensed waves of pent-up emotion rolling off her. This was clearly the tip of a very large and jagged iceberg hidden beneath the surface.

“So what you told me before, in the interview room. It was pretty much the story.”

A nod.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Terrible.” And in truth her heart went out to the young woman. “But it’s premeditated murder.”

If Garr was in fact dead.

Maybe . . .

“Sometimes you have to make sacrifices, Agent Sanchez. Whatever the consequences. Haven’t you ever felt that way? I’ll bet you have.”

Carmen’s mind instantly made the leap to her father’s murder and the fact that her sister had very nearly been killed today. How would she have reacted if that had happened and she were confronting the killer?

She wanted to tell Lauren that she would have been completely professional under similar circumstances, but the words stuck in her throat.

Lauren studied her closely. Then her eyes flashed with understanding. “Exactly.”

Chapter 73

Damon tried to control the panic.

The claustrophobia was like a poison in his soul.

And how cruel Maddie . . . no, Lauren had been . . .

She might have buried him alive completely. It would have been a horrific death, but a short one. How long can the body survive without oxygen? A few minutes tops.

But the monster hadn’t been so kind. She’d buried him up to his head, then stuffed a stinking oily tube in his mouth, something from an old car. And then continued the burial process, covering the rest of his face.

He gagged and nearly puked. That would be the end. He controlled it.

He tried to lift his knees. No. He was under several feet of earth.

It might as well have been concrete.

Breathe out, breathe in.