realized she was shaking. Bryce and his men took charge, with the sheriff personally guarding the driver’s side as her father started the engine and slowly pulled away.
“Jesus, Ellie, things are getting out of hand,” Captain Hale muttered.
Suddenly Ellie was finding it difficult to breathe. She walked into the hallway, Hale following. She pinched the bridge of her nose to stem her panic.
Bryce was taking care of her parents, she told herself. For now, she had to focus on finding Shondra and the killer.
“I have to get back to work, Captain,” she finally said.
“Are you sure you’re up to it?”
“Is that the reason you called Fox? You don’t think I can handle this case?”
He ran a hand over his balding head. “You’ve been through a lot lately, Detective. I thought you and Agent Fox made a good team.”
“He hates my family, or have you forgotten that?”
“I’m not saying there isn’t tension, but you both handled it and got the job done.” He reached into his pocket for a mint. “Now is not the time to let personal feelings interfere.”
Pulling herself together, Ellie walked back into the conference room to Derrick, and cleared her throat. “I talked to Cord. He’s looking for places that might fit our rhyme. Meanwhile, I’m going to Carrie Winters’ place.”
“Let’s go.”
Laney’s comment about the killer contacting her personally played through her head. Did he have some personal vendetta against her? At that thought, the hate mail she’d received taunted her.
“Let me get something I need you to look at while I drive.”
A puzzled expression flashed on Derrick’s face but he simply followed her to her office.
Opening a drawer, Ellie took out a folder. “I’ve been thinking about the killer, why he’d contact me. It could have something to do with the hate mail I received.”
Derrick went stone still, eyes narrowing. “What hate mail?”
She hadn’t wanted to share this with him––with anyone. It was humiliating. But if it helped find the Weekday Killer, she had to suck up her pride. “The last couple of weeks, I’ve received several letters blaming me for those little girls’ deaths. Some accuse me of knowing and covering up.” Just like Derrick had at one point.
A muscle twitched in his jaw, as if he remembered his accusations. Maybe he still believed them.
“What if one of the people who wrote to me is killing these women to punish me? Or to make me look incompetent?”
A tense heartbeat passed between them. “That seems extreme.”
“Maybe. But you saw how the people in the county are reacting to my family.”
He exhaled. “Let me take a look at the letters.”
Heat climbed Ellie’s neck as she handed over the folder. He gripped it and followed her back through the bullpen and outside to her car.
Derrick slid into the passenger side, and she got in, started the engine and headed toward Carrie Winters’ address. Pulling on latex gloves, he shook out the individual envelopes, his jaw stiff as he saw the pile. “Did you send these to the lab to be analyzed?”
Ellie bit her lip. “No.”
His gaze jerked to hers. “Why the hell not?”
“I figured people were just blowing off steam.” Besides, maybe she deserved their wrath.
Derrick’s eyes darkened as he studied her for a moment. Then he released a breath and returned to the mail. The letters held no return addresses and, barring a couple of people, no one had signed their names.
There was no way to trace the sender just as there was no way to trace the burner phone the Weekday Killer used to taunt her.
One by one, he unfolded the letters, his expression growing more intense as he skimmed the contents. She didn’t have to read them twice. The hate-filled words were seared into her brain.
Your family killed those girls. Go to hell.
You should have died instead of my daughter.
I hope your family rots in prison for what they did.
Evil runs in your blood.
Leave town and never come back.
Tell the truth for once and beg God for forgiveness.
You’ll be sorry.
You have to pay.
A good cop would have stopped the Ghost long ago.
How could you cover for a killer?
You should be buried on the trail like the children.
Sometimes even Ellie had trouble not believing that last one.
Forty
Clifton Heights
“That mail is going to the lab,” Derrick said.
“It could be unrelated, but at this point, I guess we have to examine every angle,” Ellie agreed.
“What do you know about Ms. Winters?” Derrick asked as he checked the front door and found it locked.