Stopping in the doorway, she saw that her friend’s bed and the entire floor were covered in petals.
Twenty-Eight
Somewhere on the AT
Shondra lay curled on the floor in the metal cage, shivering from the cold and pain. Her shoulder was twisted and aching, her ribs bruised, maybe even broken, and her fingers bloody from trying to claw open the metal cage.
Her arm throbbed and she felt weak from losing so much blood. Blood he’d taken from her in vials. He’d been collecting it ever since he locked her down here, though she had no idea what he was going to do with it. Maybe he was just going to drain her blood until she had none left, leaving her to slowly die.
Ellie had probably gotten the message by now. She’d come looking for her, and the thought comforted Shondra.
Memories of lying in the dark as a child, listening to the sound of her father beating up her mother, taunted her. His drunken rages, breaking dishes, punching walls. Why did some men use their fists to make a point?
Hysterical laughter bubbled in her throat as she recalled the rage flaring in her abductor’s soulless eyes when he realized she wasn’t going to obey or beg or kiss his ass.
Closing her eyes, she forced her breathing to steady. He’d gone out again. He would be drinking. Would come home with another woman tonight. One a day for seven days, he’d told her.
Which day would she die?
The sound of an old furnace rumbling—or was it thunder?—resounded through the damp basement. There were more rooms down here, other cages.
She’d heard the other women he’d brought here, crying and screaming, begging for their lives. He’d killed them anyway. There was no doubt about that.
She had been here the longest, she thought, although she couldn’t be sure. What was he waiting for?
Closing her eyes in case she needed energy later to fight him––and you can bet she would fight if she got the chance––her father’s sneering voice echoed in her head.
“You’re trash, girl. You ain’t going nowhere.”
Anger strengthened her resolve. She’d proved him wrong. She had made it as a cop. She had arrested countless cowards like him.
And she’d found love. It was a surprise, even to herself, but a few months ago, she’d met Melissa. Melissa with soft hair the color of raw honey. Melissa with sky-blue eyes and the voice of an angel.
Melissa, who she’d told all her secrets to.
Shondra had expected her to run as far away as she could, or to look at her with disgust or pity.
Instead she had pulled Shondra into her arms, declaring her love. That was only two months ago, but now they were planning to move in together. They’d even talked about a wedding.
Fear pressed against her chest. She was so close to having the family she’d always wanted, she couldn’t die now.
The last night she’d seen Melissa haunted her, regret consuming her. Melissa had been hesitant to tell her family about the two of them. “They just won’t understand,” she had said through tears. “They’re old fashioned and my dad is set in his ways. They’ll probably disown me.”
“If they do, then you’ve got me,” Shondra argued. “We’ll make our own family.”
At that, Melissa had burst into tears and run from the room. The next morning when Shondra got up, she was gone.
Shondra squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could take back the things she’d said. She hoped that Melissa could forgive her––that she’d get to see her again. That she’d live long enough.
Just then the screech of the door made her tense, pulling her back to her dark surroundings. He has returned.
Footsteps. Shuffling. Another woman’s scream piercing the air.
“Let me go. Why are you doing this?” The woman’s cries tore through the silence. “Please don’t hurt me…”
Tears blurred Shondra’s eyes as she heard the grating sound of another metal cage being slammed shut in the dark.
Twenty-Nine
Marvin’s Mobile Home Park
Ellie grabbed the wall to steady herself.
Find me proof, Bryce had said.
This was proof. The fucking phone call was proof. The bastard had been inside Shondra’s house––the daffodils were his calling card.
Fingers shaking, she snatched her phone. She should call the sheriff, but he’d already told her he was tied-up. Probably tying one on, was more like it.
So she called her boss. Shondra needed her to do her job, not fall apart.
Captain Hale sounded winded when he answered. “Ellie?”
“The killer has Deputy Eastwood, Captain.”
“What?”
Ellie heard the sound of Captain Hale cracking his knuckles. Struggling to steady her breathing,