Free Buried Secrets (New Adult Dark Suspense Romance) by Emme Rollins Page A

and shut the door, turning to hand it to her. “Here. Take it, beautiful.”
    “Are you sure?” Dusty took the rose, blinking back tears as his fingers brushed hers. She met his gaze and saw the sadness there.
    “It was his favorite color.” His eyes were bright behind the round frames of his glasses. Too bright. They were supposed to be roommates at college, Ryan and her brother.
    “Thanks, Ryan.” She swallowed, looking down at the flower instead of up at him.
    “You should come out to the path with us some time, Dusty. Hang out with the gang.”
    She glanced up at him, frowning. “Oh, I don’t know…”
    “You look so much like him.” He stood, his big hands so out of place arranging flowers it made her want to smile. “It hurts.”
    “I know.” She turned to leave, understanding suddenly a whole new meaning to the phrase “killing someone with kindness.”
    Every kind gesture felt like a stab through her heart.
     
     

 
    ✝ Chapter Si x ✝
    Dusty drove through the tall, wrought iron gates—they were open and a sign on them read Cemetery Open Dawn Til Dusk and left the Jeep parked by the front office of the cemetery. She could have driven all the way to the grave, but she felt like walking. She saw the caretaker, John Evans, unlocking the office and waved. His was the only car besides hers. He tipped her a wave back before going into the building.
    Warm for September.
    She lifted her face to the gentle breeze. It had been a warm summer for upper Michigan, one of the driest they’d ever had. Now the trees were just turning color and a few leaves decorated the lawn .
    Always so perfect. How do they manage? She took one of the winding paths, admiring the grass. Her father had once said the Clinton Grove Cemetery should have been a golf course.
    It was silent with the exception of the leaves rustling above her head. Isolated . She stared up the incline. It was at least two miles from town and on the outskirts, just before the county line. The entire ride along Frontier had been views of farms and fields.
    She stopped at the top of the sloping hill and looked across acres of land.
    She peered across the rows of graves. A giant garden of stone . She looked at the tall monument on her left, erected in honor of those who had fought in the Civil War, and the newest one for those who had fought in Iraq. Six or seven family mausoleums stood interspersed among trees, all containing once-prominent Larkspur residents. Nick liked to remark that a small town like Larkspur had a lot of big people—and a lot of small minds.
    The hill sloped back down, offering a panoramic view of the cemetery. To her left was Nick's grave, a rueful destination. The grave was fresh, covered in sod, and the stone was up already. She could see that from where she was standing. Somehow the headstone made things permanent in a way she hadn’t experienced before. Nick was dead. He was really dead, gone, buried, never coming back.
    She knew it, of course, but until she saw it set, literally, in stone, it hadn’t been fully real.
    Kneeling in front of the flat headstone, the ground under her still soft, she placed the yellow rose on Nick’s grave. She traced her brother’s name, the dates. Dominick William Chandler. Below that: Behold, he shall fly like an eagle and he shall spread his wings. There was even a picture of an eagle etched into the marble.
    Dusty looked at the bible quote in surprise, wondering if it had been Julia's choice or her father’s. Having a bible verse on her brother’s headstone bothered her, but that one in particular was more meaningful than Julia could have known. Back in middle school, Nick had gotten into the idea of totem animals. It came mostly from Shane, who said his was the wolf. Hers had turned out to be something stupid she couldn’t remember—skunk or giraffe maybe.
    But Nick’s had been an eagle.
    Dusty wondered if Julia had found out somehow. Did Nick tell her? It was a lovely phrase, although