body collapsed to the ground, splattering mud everywhere, blood gushing from his chest.
Adrenaline surged through Ellie, and she pushed to her feet, wincing, then aimed the gun at him again as she staggered toward him.
A streak of lightning zigzagged across the sky, lighting his face. It was Vinny Holcomb.
“Where’s Shondra?” she yelled, filled with a fury that set her alight.
His cold expression sent fear trickling down her spine. “Hiram says hi,” he said with a sick smile.
Fuck him. Fuck Hiram. She knelt, rain battering her, and shoved the gun to his temple. “Where is Shondra?” she screamed.
A sinister laugh emerged from him, blood gurgling from his mouth and nose. Ellie shook him. “Where is she?”
But his breath rattled out, and his eyes went still as death claimed him.
Eighty-Four
Crooked Creek
After an exhaustive search at the barn and chicken house, Derrick had just reached Crooked Creek when the call came from Ellie. Vinny Holcomb had attacked her at her house and she’d shot him to death.
When he pulled into her drive and hurried to her, she looked as numb as she’d sounded on the phone. She was sitting on the ground beside Holcomb as if she couldn’t drag herself away from his dead body.
He steeled himself as he approached, furious at the sight of her battered face and shocked stupor. Ellie was a fighter, but right now she looked defeated.
He approached quietly, noting the details of the scene. Holcomb lay soaked in blood on the ground near her porch. Ellie’s gun was still clenched in her hand, her knuckles white from gripping it so hard.
“An ambulance is on its way,” he said, hoping she heard him through the shock.
She didn’t respond, so he stooped down and gently eased the weapon from her hand. “The crime team and ambulance will be here soon.” Fearing she needed medical attention, he gently pushed her hair from her face where strands escaped her ponytail. A bruise was blossoming on her jaw, and blood stained her forehead and cheek.
Gently, he took her hands in his to warm them. “Ellie,” he said softly.
For a brief second, she simply stared at him as if she didn’t hear him, but he continued to rub her hands between his and finally she shook herself from the fog.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his gaze skimming her for any further injuries.
She nodded, although the quiver of her lip told him more.
“Did you get hit?” he asked.
“No,” she said in a whisper. “I’m okay.”
He cupped her face in his hands, aching to comfort her, but knowing she was off limits. The case was all that mattered. Anything else was a mistake––he’d learned that the hard way.
Even so, he removed his jacket, settled it around her shoulders and tugged up the hood to shield her from the worst of the rain. “Listen to me, you had no choice. He attacked you.”
“He was out of control,” she murmured. “Crazed.”
“He must have been off his meds like the director at the hospital said.”
Her chin trembled. “But now he’s dead, what if Shondra is still alive and we don’t find her in time?”
The sound of a siren wailing burst between bouts of thunder, the rain still pouring down.
“We will find her,” Derrick said. Although in all honesty, he had no idea how. At the moment, they’d exhausted one lead after another––and he didn’t know which way to turn.
Eighty-Five
Friday
Crooked Creek
Ellie had stared at the ceiling for hours when she’d finally crawled into bed, every muscle in her body aching. Derrick had insisted on sleeping on her couch, and she was so shaken she couldn’t even bring herself to argue.
She tossed and turned all night, questions railing through her head.
Hiram says hi.
Something didn’t feel right. The way the bodies were posed, the elaborate details of the graves, the painstaking way he dressed them in Sunday dresses—it read nothing like the violent, erratic crime scene they’d witnessed at Mrs. Holcomb’s house.
Or the animal-like way Vinny had attacked her.
Around 4 a.m. she finally collapsed into a deep sleep, but by seven she lurched awake to the sound of footsteps in her den. For a brief moment, she thought there was an intruder, until she remembered Derrick had stayed over.
The scent of coffee drifted to her. Craving the rich pecan taste and desperate for a jolt of caffeine, she rose in her pjs and went to the kitchen. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she poured a cup into her favorite mug, savoring a long slow sip.
Derrick stood on her back deck, a