A noise rustled outside, and Preacher Ray stood inside the shelter he’d built from the pines and hobbled toward the doorway. After a quick peek outside, he angled his head toward her. “A bunch of the Shadow People have come for my sermon.”
It was time for Eula to go. Even Preacher Ray’s sermons couldn’t save her. But maybe he’d pray for the young women this latest monster was after––even if it would soon be too late.
Forty-Four
Teardrop Falls
Derrick kept a close eye on Ranger McClain as they wove through the knee-high weeds. Perspiration trickled down the side of his face, and he waved mosquitoes and no-see ’ems away. He’d made an enemy of the ranger on the last case when he’d questioned him about his past, and the fact that he’d worked multiple Search and Rescue missions involving the missing children. McClain was intense, a loner, and had grown up in foster care. He also had a history in juvie and one of his foster fathers owned a mortuary.
The fact that the Weekday Killer sewed the victims’ mouths shut as a mortician would do wasn’t lost on Derrick. There was no telling what atrocities McClain had seen––or done––growing up living above a funeral home.
He’d also led Ellie to the second victim. “McClain, what made you think of this place?” Derrick asked.
The ranger cut his brooding eyes toward Derrick. “Ellie told me about the rhyme, so I looked at the map. This place is known around these parts for mourners who want to grieve the loss of their loved one.”
“Isn’t there some legend about the tears forming the falls?” Ellie asked.
Cord gave a small shrug, then hacked at the overgrown path to clear their way up the hill. “Some say that the overhang from the falls used to be dry until three teenagers years ago formed a suicide pact and jumped to their deaths.” His voice turned gruff. “Supposedly the families and the girls’ classmates joined here for a prayer vigil, and there were so many tears shed that it looked like a waterfall. Ever since then the waterfalls run and pool in the gorge below.”
They stepped over a rocky creek bed, where the water was so clear you could see minnows swimming below, and a nest of turtles on the muddy bank. As they climbed the next hill, black-eyed Susans sprang up along the path, and a sudden breeze stirred the scent of honeysuckle and something murky, like a dead animal.
Ellie’s breath punctuated the air as they climbed the last incline and she came to an abrupt halt. She stopped so suddenly Derrick almost ran into her.
“This is it,” Ellie said in a strained voice.
Derrick glanced over her shoulder and saw the base of the falls, water dripping over the ridge below and splashing into the pool beneath. A sea of yellow covered the ground, and beside the pool of water lay another woman on a bed of daffodils.
Forty-Five
“It’s not Shondra,” Ellie said breathlessly.
No, this woman was a redhead. Medium build, with freckled ivory skin that looked ghostly against the stark blackness of her dress.
Guilt at her relief that the woman wasn’t Shondra seized Ellie, and immediately she took in the details of the scene. Just as before, daffodil petals dotted the body and the woman’s hands were folded in prayer fashion, yet this time the slash on her throat was more jagged. The makeup had escalated too––the killer had painted red streaks down her cheeks, as if she was crying blood.
He’d also left her dress open at the top, revealing a dark purple bruise. Leaning closer to examine it, she realized he’d carved the shape of a heart into her chest.
“Look at that, Derrick.”
His brows rose. “Maybe a tattoo, and he removed it.”
“Maybe.” Or maybe he was escalating to torture. Ellie laid two fingers against the woman’s skin and went still. “Her body is cool, but not completely cold.” Pulling her weapon, Ellie pivoted to scan the surrounding area. “She hasn’t been dead long. He might still be somewhere in the woods.”
Derrick grabbed his gun from his holster, surveying the area. There was a noise from somewhere, leaves rustling, twigs snapping.
Ellie gestured to Cord. “Stay here and call it in.” She motioned to both men that she was going to search the area, then craned her neck as she inched further up the hill. The ash trees and red oaks shrouded the sunlight, making it hard to see, but the movement of foliage broke the silence.