him and he decided to kill her. The other murders could be a ruse to cover up his real target.”
Although that sounded far-fetched, she was trying to be open-minded and not miss anything.
“You don’t tell me what to do,” Bryce snapped. “Remember, I’m the sheriff.”
How could she forget?
A text dinged from Cord, and she muttered that she had to go.
Forty-One
Somewhere on the AT
His latest victim twisted at the bindings around her wrists and feet as she struggled to open her eyes. Darkness swallowed her, the sickening scent of his sweat and a musk-like odor filling her nostrils.
Slowly the truth registered. She was moving. Locked in the trunk of a car, the tires were grinding over ruts in the road, swerving and spinning in a dizzying winding pattern that indicated she was somewhere in the mountains.
Somewhere far away from home.
How long had she been unconscious?
Her brain felt foggy, her eyes swollen from crying, her voice hoarse from screaming at the man to release her before she’d eventually passed out. He’d laughed in her face. Chanted some rhyme to her that she’d heard when she was a little girl. He’d yanked her hair, jammed a knife at her throat, stuffed a rag into her mouth. The world swirled, stars exploded behind her eyes, and she hadn’t been able to breathe. Then everything faded to nothing.
She blinked again, struggling to recall the details of the night before.
But everything was a fog.
Tears trickled from her eyes, trailing down her cheeks.
Suddenly the car screeched to a stop, slamming her sideways. Pain ricocheted through her. Choking back a cry, she twisted and tugged at the ropes.
But there was no time. The trunk opened and a hulking gray shadow loomed over her. Tall trees shrouded what little sunlight seeped through the treetops. He wore a dark ski mask so she couldn’t see his face, even though she had seen it last night.
The realization hit her. That meant he didn’t intend to let her live.
Summoning her courage, she raised her legs and kicked at him as she reached for her. He grunted, stepping to the side to dodge the blow, then pulled her to a sitting position. She pushed at him with her bound hands, but he was strong and snatched her hair.
The knife blade glinted against the darkness. “Wednesday’s child is full of woe,” he murmured. “But you aren’t, are you?”
With a sinister laugh, he dragged her from the car. Her scream was drowned out by the sound of a waterfall nearby, and she inhaled the sickening sweet scent of wildflowers.
Forty-Two
Teardrop Falls
A man of few words, Cord’s text to Ellie was short and to the point:
Teardrop Falls. Locals who’ve lost loved ones go there to pray and mourn their loss. Meet at Springer Mountain and I’ll guide you there.
Ellie’s lungs squeezed for air as she parked at the base of the mountain a short while later. The falls were roughly five miles north of Springer Mountain. After leaving Carrie Winters’ house, she and Derrick had dropped her hate mail at the station to be forwarded to the lab at the Bureau and he’d sent Bryce a message to have any mail her father had received sent there as well.
Derrick had found Carrie’s laptop in her bedroom. It was password protected, so he’d also sent it to the lab.
“If Bryce comes up empty at the Men’s Den, maybe we’ll find a calendar of Carrie’s clients,” Derrick said.
Ellie nodded. “If one of them wanted more than Carrie offered, or stalked her and she rejected him, it could have triggered his rage. Although if that’s the case, why didn’t he start with Carrie?”
“It’s true that a killer’s first victim is often more personal,” Derrick said. “But not always the case. Sometimes the other victims are a replacement for the one he really wants to kill.”
Ellie inhaled a painful breath, an awkward silence falling between them. Hiram had killed all those little girls, including Derrick’s sister, as a replacement for her. She didn’t need a reminder. She’d never forget it.
The sound of Cord’s truck pulling up beside them saved her from the memory.
As she climbed from the vehicle, the giant rocky ridges of the mountains climbed toward the sky. Wildflowers dotted the expanse of green, poking up through the grass and weeds, adding shades of purple, yellow, white and red as vibrant as the sunrise.
Although majestic in beauty, the shadowed, isolated areas in the dense thickets provided countless places to hide. There were drop-offs and ledges so narrow that crossing them