Fighting to keep it together, they made their way toward the voice.
In a smaller room off the large one they found them.
Beau had a shovel in his hand and was throwing dirt into a hole at his feet.
Rylla was nowhere to be seen.
Just because he couldn’t see her didn't mean he didn't know where she was.
She was in the hole.
Being buried alive.
That was horrific enough, but for Rylla, a claustrophobic, it would be even more terrifying.
He prayed with every fiber of his being that she was still alive. That he hadn’t lost her by mere seconds. If Rylla died because Matthew wouldn’t let him come running straight back here, he would never forgive him. Or himself.
Beau obviously hadn’t heard them and was still muttering to himself, something about how he needed to go younger, that a younger woman was the answer, while he continued to shovel dirt onto Rylla.
“Beau, it’s the police, put the shovel down,” Matthew announced their presence.
He turned, surprised and confused, then angry. “Go away.”
“We’re not going anywhere, Beau,” Matthew said. “Put the shovel down and put your hands behind your back.”
“She’s already dead,” Beau sneered. “The hole is all filled in.”
Nate was close enough to see that the hole was indeed mostly filled. If Rylla wasn't dead already they had minutes at the most to get her out of there before she suffocated.
“It’s over, Beau.” Matthew somehow managed to maintain an outward calm that was currently eluding him. “We know what you’ve done. You’re going to prison. Don’t make this any harder on your children than it already is.”
“What I've done?” Beau echoed. “All I've done is try to find the same happily ever after as everyone else. I didn't do anything wrong.”
“You killed four women,” Matthew reminded him.
“You have no proof,” he growled.
They were wasting time. Beau Drake clearly believed that abducting, holding captive, and then killing four women was perfectly reasonable because he wanted to find a wife that behaved in the way he thought she should. He was never going to see things any differently. Rylla’s time was quickly running out. They had to make a move.
“You drugged a man and left him inside the trunk of a car. He identified you. You shot and handcuffed a woman in labor. She identified you too. You shot your sister-in-law and brought her here. We saw her. She’s in there. Don’t let her die too.”
Beau paused, seeming to weigh up his options. Apparently, deciding he wasn't walking out of here unless it was in handcuffs, he gripped the shovel and stood over the hole, the edge of the shovel positioned where Nate assumed Rylla’s head was.
Beau lifted the shovel high then began to swing it down.
Nate fired.
Beau dropped.
The shovel clattered down beside him.
He ran to the hole, shoving aside Beau’s dead body, and began to dig.
He started where Beau had been aiming the shovel, clawing at the dirt, moving it as quickly as he could.
Matthew bent and slapped handcuffs on Beau even though they both knew he was already dead, then came and helped him dig.
The grave was shallow, and it didn't take them long to uncover Rylla’s face. As soon as he could reach it, Nate dug his fingers into her mouth and scooped out the dirt that was there. Then he put his fingers to her neck.