Heat still poured from the blaze, the air was hot and sticky.
Her father turned to her from the ambulance doors, his face as ashen as the charred remains of the belongings in their house. “Ellie, your mom just had a heart attack.”
Ellie’s pulse clamored, and she was unable to speak as her father jumped into the back of the ambulance. She stood staring as it sped off, its siren roaring.
Sixty-Four
Ellie had been so angry with her mother the last few weeks. Could not talk to her or even look at her. It had hurt to even think about Vera.
But despite everything, she didn’t want her to die. Of course she didn’t.
Memories swamped her again. She saw herself as a little girl, five years old, standing on the back porch looking out at the woods, too terrified to venture into them. As much as she was scared, she was intrigued by the twisting paths and gigantic trees that offered adventures.
But that day her mother encouraged her not to be afraid of anything.
Then everything changed the day Hiram lured her away.
“You okay?” Derrick asked.
She wasn’t. But she couldn’t cry on his shoulder, so she gave a quick nod, biting back the pain. He pushed his keys into her hand. “Go. We have the whole county working on the case. I’ll follow up here.”
The need to be alone suddenly seized her. She couldn’t break down, especially not in front of him.
His fingers brushed hers as he handed her the keys, and her hand shook as she gripped them, hurrying to his car.
Climbing in, she sent a text to her captain filling him in on her parents’ condition.
Stomach knotted, she started the engine then pulled down the drive. Smoke billowed in the sky behind her, obscuring the view of the mountains beyond, while her parents’ home continued to burn, the embers glowing orange and red across the lawn. Would the firefighters be able to save the commendations her father had received? And the hand-carved chess set her grandfather had made? What about her photos from the police academy?
It didn’t matter, she told herself. They were only things. Her mother’s life was at stake.
Ten minutes later, she forced deep breaths as she parked at the hospital and rushed inside. Her legs felt wooden, a numbness washing over her, dread curling in her belly.
She flashed her badge at the nurses’ station and was quickly sent back to an ER exam room. For a moment, she stood outside the door watching as her father hovered by her mother’s bed. He looked ragged, his clothes torn and dirty, his face thin and drawn. He must have lost at least fifteen pounds in the last few weeks, the stress and his surgery having taken its toll.
Machines beeped and whirred, providing her mother with oxygen and monitoring her vitals. The scent of disinfectant and sickness permeated the air. Muffled voices and the sound of a rolling cart rattled in the hallway. A woman’s heart-wrenching crying seeped into the milieu.
Ellie’s breathing grew erratic as she watched her father squeeze her mother’s hand. As if he sensed her presence, Randall turned to look at her. The fear in his eyes was so stark that her knees nearly buckled.
Blinking away tears, Ellie willed her feet to move. For her to dig deep and find some semblance of forgiveness for her mother. But she remained immobile, stuck in the doorway. The betrayal and lies that had destroyed her world, ripped apart her family––and cost so many innocent lives––were still so raw, paralyzing her.
Sixty-Five
Somewhere on the AT
Please don’t do this, she silently begged. I don’t want to die.
His next victim tried to struggle against the ropes tied around her wrists, but she was powerless––he had drugged her. Her arms and legs were dead weights and she couldn’t move her fingers. Her vocal cords seemed to be frozen so she couldn’t scream even though every nerve in her body desperately wanted to.
“Thursday’s child has far to go, and that’s you. So far to go to get to heaven that you’ll never get there.” He slapped her face so hard her ears rang and stars danced in her eyes. Then he stuffed her in the trunk and slammed it shut. Silent tears trickled down her face.
A horrifying realization dawned. He was that maniac she’d heard about on the news—the Weekday Killer. She’d heard he did awful things to his victims, slashing their throats and leaving them out in the woods. All the women at the Beauty Barn