Derrick nodded. “Which means we could be looking for a team who planned these murders together.”
Seventy-Three
Ellijay, Georgia
The police station in Ellijay was only fifteen minutes away.
A deputy showed them to Sheriff Miller’s desk, and Ellie introduced herself and Derrick, explaining they’d just come from the secure hospital.
The man was middle-aged, tall and bald, and judging from the tattoo on his forearm, ex-military. His gold wedding band looked too small, digging into his fleshy fingers, and a picture of a woman with brown curly hair sat on his desk along with a photo of a French bulldog.
Derrick had phoned ahead, and the man had agreed to pull Holcomb’s file so they could discuss it. Derrick had also called Vinny’s mother, but she hadn’t answered so he’d left a message asking her to contact them.
Opening the file, Miller clicked his teeth. “That was some crazy dude,” he said. “When I showed up at his mother’s house, he had her cornered with a butcher knife to her throat.”
“Go on,” Ellie said.
“Twice before we’d been called out there. Once when he’d beaten the hell out of a girlfriend. Put her in the hospital with a broken arm and broken nose. She also needed dozens of stitches on her arms where he’d cut her.”
She and Derrick watched as he laid the photos of the girlfriend on the table. The woman appeared to be undernourished and her hair looked like straw, as if Vinny had kept her locked up and hadn’t fed her.
“Next time, it was his mama, but she decided not to press charges. Said he was sick and off his meds, and she was going to try to get him into treatment.”
“So he has a pattern of violence,” Derrick said.
Miller nodded. “We looked back and found two other domestic calls, but the police backed off because the women chose not to follow through. Abusers seem to have some kind of hold on women. Or maybe the women think they can save them.”
That never worked out, Ellie thought.
“What happened the last time?” Derrick asked.
“He went too far with his mother,” the officer said. “Beat her to a bloody pulp. She managed to get to the phone and called 911. Upon arrival, from the yard we heard him ranting about how she was white trash and he knew she’d cheated on his daddy, how God wanted women to obey their husbands and sons. He’d locked her in so we had to break down the door. He had her by the hair with that butcher knife to her throat. Had already nicked her twice and was screaming that he was going to kill her.”
The officer displayed another set of photos, this one of an older woman, her hair matted with blood, her face and body bruised, a red line rimming her throat where he’d cut her. “It was a wonder she survived.”
“Any idea what set him off?” Derrick asked.
Miller shook his head. “Said he was at her house trying to get his ex’s address, but she refused to give it to him. Said she knew he’d kill her if she did.”
“Do you know where this woman is now?” Ellie asked.
“Afraid not. The mother said she went to a women’s shelter and begged us to leave her be.”
“Have you sent anyone to check on the mother since Vinny escaped?” Ellie asked, folding her arms across her chest.
“I called her and left a message warning her, but she didn’t answer.”
“And you didn’t think to go out and check on her?” Ellie asked in disbelief.
He looked contrite for a moment, then shuffled some papers and shook his head.
Sorry son of a bitch. No wonder some people criticized small-town law enforcement.
Seventy-Four
Pigeon Lake
Ellie swung the Jeep down the graveled drive of the clapboard house belonging to Vinny Holcomb’s mother and came to a stop. Pigeon Lake, a small lake only a short drive from Stony Gap, was named for the pigeons that gathered in flocks, circling the muddy water.
A dark green sedan streaked with filth was parked beneath a carport.
“Mother’s name is Martha. She worked at a dry cleaners a few miles away,” Derrick said, skimming the information Sheriff Miller had given them.
“Poor woman,” Ellie muttered. “Couldn’t be easy being attacked and nearly killed by your own son.” She had to live with the fact that her son was a murderer, just like Ellie needed to live with her own parents’ betrayal––and her own mother was paying for that right now, fighting for her life.