It hurt all over. Did she have fractures? She wasn’t sure. One hand was numb. Fighting through the pain, gathering her strength, she pushed hard with the upper half of her body. She struggled, straining to raise her head, an arm, a hand, anything.

It hurt, but Sam pushed hard.

The soft knock of rocks signaled success.

It’s working!

But a new fear pierced her.

Her movement could trigger another avalanche, bringing more rocks crashing down on her.

Either way, I’ll die here.

She rested a moment, psychologically fortifying her will and mustering her strength to try again. Tightening her muscles, she pushed through the pain, gritting her teeth. Oh God, please, please! Pressing, driving her body upward against the rocks, she was rewarded with knocking, then the tumble and bump of rocks shifting.

They rolled from her head, her back and arms, diminishing the weight, reducing the pressure.

Working in agony, she raised her hand to shove more rocks away and in the sweet ecstasy of the liberating lightness, she took in a deep breath.

Oh, thank you!

Now, in her darkness, Sam saw shafts of light shooting down from the surface.

I’m going to crawl out! I swear to God I’ll get out!

Suddenly the rocks under, and all around her, shifted, creating a new stream of stones that thudded and pummeled her. They covered her head, shoulders, arms, back, and legs.

Once again, Sam was buried.

CHAPTER 49

Derby, Vermont

After wrapping up at the barracks, McDade stole a moment from the investigation to drive to Hazel’s Hungry Heart Diner in the center of town.

Fletcher Seaver was not a suspect, but he had problems. In her call to his father to pick him up, McDade had suggested he get his son help.

Storefronts flowed by, and her focus returned to Gibby and Cass. We need to take a harder look at them, she thought. After parking, she used her phone to check the status of locating them for questioning.

Nothing so far.

Looming over the entire case was the new DNA evidence confirming that the Hydra was involved in Moore’s disappearance.

She unbuckled her belt when a new message, concerning her request that Ewing Gibson Spiker’s DNA be double-checked against the Hydra sample, blossomed on her phone. Given that Spiker had been convicted of a felony, his DNA should be in Vermont’s statewide DNA data bank and the national data bank, as well.

“I don’t believe this,” McDade said under her breath while reading the message.

It turned out Spiker’s DNA had been misplaced in the system, arising from an application he’d made some time ago to have it expunged under state statutes. His effort was denied by the court as being baseless, but he appealed. It created confusion, but the law was clear—his DNA should’ve remained in the system because of his conviction. A search was under way to recover it.