She deleted them, then discovered a text from an unsaved number. The hate mail she’d received about the Ghost case sprung to mind, messages that left her sleepless, searching her house every time she entered and leaving the lights on all night long.
Taking a deep breath, she opened the message, expecting more hate. But it was even more chilling.
Monday’s child is fair of face. Did you find her, Detective Reeves?
Thirteen
Somewhere on the AT
The screams of the other woman reverberated over and over in her head as he tied her arms and legs spread-eagle inside the cage.
The beating last night had been bad. But whatever he had in store for her now was going to be worse.
“It’s your fault she had to die, Cathy,” he spat. “Your fault I have to do this.”
Terror washed over her as he tied the restraints tighter. The screech of the door swinging back and forth at the top of the stairs bounced off the cold dank walls, the crack of the whip against the floor echoing around the basement.
Tears pooled in her eyes as she braced herself for the sharp sting of leather cutting into bare skin, but instead he knelt beside her. All she could see were dark eyes boring through the holes of his mask, but his voice sounded familiar, and he smelled of wood, sweat and dirt, as if he’d been outdoors.
Grunting, he bent beside her, and she saw something rubbery between his teeth. Some kind of tubing… a tourniquet.
He peeled it from his mouth and with gloved hands wrapped the tube around her upper arm, tying it so tightly that she sucked in a sharp breath. A second later, silver glinted in the dark and she saw the needle.
Terrified of what he was going to inject her with, she gritted her teeth as he jabbed the needle into her arm. But instead of the slow burn of drugs seeping into her, she realized he was drawing blood.
Helpless to do anything but lie at his mercy, she searched her memory for where she’d heard his voice before.
But as he drew vial after vial of blood, she grew weaker and weaker…
Fourteen
Tuesday
Crooked Creek
Ellie rubbed her bleary eyes. She’d spent half the night searching every database she had access to for crimes even remotely similar to the MO of the murdered woman she’d found at Reflection Pond.
Although there were a few scattered cases in other states involving necrophilia, nothing fit with the way the killer had posed his victim.
She was aching from exhaustion, yet wired from wondering why the killer had contacted her personally, as she met Heath and her captain at the station first thing.
The sheriff stormed in within minutes of her arrival. “Detective Reeves,” Bryce said, his voice loud, irritated, “why didn’t you call me yesterday about that body?”
Ellie tensed and poured herself a cup of coffee, determined to stay calm. Bryce liked goading her and she refused to rise to it. “Because I could handle it alone. I figured you were busy anyway.” Probably busy drinking on the job. “Besides, I knew the captain would get in touch with you.”
Bryce glared at her, then followed her into her office, where Captain Hale and Deputy Landrum were waiting. She explained about the message from the killer. “We’ll try to trace the call,” Ellie said. “But this guy is smart. Most likely he used a burner phone.” She paused. “I need to meet Dr. Whitefeather soon.”
Deputy Landrum looked up from his laptop. “I think I have an ID on the victim. I ran her face through facial recognition software and got a hit.”
That was fast. She’d thought they’d have to wait on DNA or prints. “Who is she?”
Heath angled his laptop for her to see. “Her name is Courtney Wooten. She’s twenty-nine, developed her own makeup line and is trending on YouTube and Twitter. She’s also apparently working on a line of party dresses.”
No wonder her face had popped up so quickly.
“Is she local?”
“Home address is Atlanta, but she has one sister, Renee, who lives a few miles outside Crooked Creek. Parents were killed in a car crash when she was ten, so she and her sister went to live with the grandmother. Grandma died last year.”
“We need to talk to Renee.”
“I’ll send you her contact information,” Heath said. “I’m studying the vic’s social media for love interests, but so far, she’s all over the map in her dating.”
Bryce looked down at the photos of Courtney and whistled. “A