lower extremities, and Laney had carefully executed the Y incision. Pans holding the woman’s organs sat to the side, and her breasts were exposed, where Laney had removed the remains of the implants. Her skin was blue and marred with black and purple bruising, both on her neck and torso. The young woman couldn’t be more than thirty years old and had her entire life ahead of her.
Just like Shondra did.
Derrick remained rigid, his expression giving nothing away, while Ellie used a handkerchief to cover her mouth and nose. She didn’t know if she’d ever get used to the heinous smells in the morgue, or the sight of a human body dissected.
“What can you tell me from the body?” Ellie asked, gesturing toward the corpse.
“I sent her bloodwork, prints and DNA to the lab.” With gloved hands, Laney lifted one of the implants. “These helped identify her. Her name is Carrie Winters.”
Adjusting her glasses, Laney carefully opened the woman’s mouth with gloved hands. Using a pair of tweezers, she removed a small folded piece of paper, then dropped it into a metal bin.
Derrick made a low sound in his throat as Laney used the tweezers to unfold it.
Tuesday’s child is full of grace.
“You know the nursery rhyme?” Ellie asked Derrick.
Arms crossed in front of him, he nodded. “It goes through all seven days of the week.”
“Exactly,” Ellie said. “It appears our killer is using the nursery rhyme as a blueprint for murder.”
Thirty-Two
Sunlight glimmered off the asphalt as Ellie drove toward Crooked Creek Police Station. Derrick was on her tail, and she’d stalled answering his questions until the briefing. There was no need to repeat herself a dozen times, and it wasn’t like she’d invited him.
No, her captain had done that.
He told you to take some time off.
Didn’t he think she could handle the investigation?
Forced to drive past the sheriff’s office in Stony Gap on the way, Ellie noticed the street in front of the courthouse had been blocked off. Protestors had gathered, waving signs and shouting as they marched back and forth. Her stomach lurched at the sight of the signs urging the prosecutor to come down hard on her father.
Randall Reeves is a child killer!
Reeves deserves to rot in jail.
Give him the death penalty.
She spotted her father exiting the courthouse with his attorney, and recognized parents of some of the Ghost’s victims. She saw Darnell Purcell, the brother of little Millie Purcell. The man looked stoop-shouldered and frail now, his wiry brown hair standing out in tufts. She’d heard he’d had drug issues after his sister disappeared but was supposedly in rehab now. Philip Paulson, Ansley Paulson’s father, looked angry as he stomped back and forth. Ginger Williams’ mother, Lynn, held a poster with her daughter’s face on it, a reminder of her devastating loss.
In spite of the shouts against him, her father held his head high. But he looked tired, worn down, and… guilt stricken.
Sympathy tugged at Ellie. Despite everything, occasionally sweet memories of her childhood broke through her anger. The day she’d learned to ride her bike, she’d been terrified of going downhill. But he’d run along beside her and steadied her, holding onto the seat until she was finally ready for him to let go. In middle school, she’d been dared to jump from a rocky ledge into the swimming hole where all the kids gathered, and she’d broken her foot. He’d held her hand in the hospital while they’d rushed her into surgery to set it. In high school, when her independent streak had surfaced and she’d rebelled against Vera’s smothering, he’d been her rock.
Pulling her gaze from him, Ellie drove on and turned down a side street before she was seen by the mob then sped onto the winding road between the two small towns.
Once upon a time, everyone in Bluff County loved and respected her father. He’d been a town hero. He’d taught Ellie how to shoot a gun and how to read maps when they ventured onto the trail and its treacherous terrain. She’d wanted to be just like him when she grew up.
But now… she could barely even look at him.
Ellie told herself to focus. You have to find Shondra and stop the madman who took her from killing again.
Or worse… From killing her friend.
Turning into the parking lot for the Crooked Police Station, she took a steadying breath before climbing out the Jeep. Chin in the air, she avoided looking at Derrick as he parked and followed her into the