Wildflower Graves (Detective Ellie Reeves #2) - Rita Herron Page 0,84

up.

“Finton fits the profile,” Ellie said.

“Then why didn’t he keep the pictures of the victims? And why contact you personally?” Derrick asked. Something still wasn’t adding up.

“Because he hated Cord and wanted to frame him. Maybe he saw me in the news with Cord when we rescued Hiram’s victims. At one point Angelica even called Cord a hero,” Ellie said. “That could have triggered his rage.”

Derrick conceded with a shrug, but he still wasn’t convinced. “McClain directed us to Finton. Have you considered that he may be framing Finton to save his own ass?”

“No.” Ellie’s face blanched. “Cord may be troubled, but he’s not a killer.”

“Are you sure about that?”

She turned away, her mouth tightening into an angry scowl. “Like you said, let’s just follow the evidence.”

“What if the evidence proves it’s McClain? Or what if he and Finton have stayed in touch and they’re committing the crimes together? Each one could be pointing evidence at the other to confuse the police.”

The sound of the forensics van rumbled outside, and he tore his eyes away from a stricken-looking Ellie to greet the team at the door. The shock on the techs’ faces said they were just as disgusted by Finton’s activities as he and Ellie were.

Suddenly Ellie looked down at her phone, pivoting towards him.

“We have to go. A Jane Doe was brought to Bluff County Hospital. Possible victim of the Weekday Killer.”

One Hundred Six

Bluff County Hospital

Dark clouds rolled across the sky, obliterating the stars, and the wind gusts ferociously picked up as Ellie parked at the Bluff County Hospital. A piece of trash tumbled across the parking lot, the wind slapping at the overhead power lines.

“Why do they think she might be one of our vics?” Derrick asked.

“They aren’t sure.” Ellie re-read the text. “But according to the doctor, she has bruises consistent with being restrained and held captive.”

Pulling up her hood, she climbed from her vehicle, hoping the twisters that had been barreling through the south didn’t decide to sweep through the mountains here. Some were so strong they took out entire neighborhoods and dropped trees like they were matchsticks.

They rushed to the nurses’ station, and Derrick explained who they’d come to visit. Hurrying to the second floor where the woman had been admitted, they spoke with the attending doctor. “Do you have an ID yet?” Ellie asked.

“No, but we immediately contacted the authorities and they’re circulating her picture to see if anyone comes forward to identify her. We’ve also collected blood samples and DNA.”

“Thank you for being on top of the situation. What can you tell us about her condition?” Derrick asked.

The doctor frowned. “Judging from the bruising on her wrists and ankles and the whip marks on her back, she was physically restrained and abused. She was unconscious when she was brought in. Her nails were torn, and the scrapes on her body indicated she’d fought through the woods to escape. Bug bites, bruising and scratches are consistent with the fact that she was found by the river. She was soaking wet when she was found. With no ID and judging from her condition, I had to report her.” The doctor fiddled with her stethoscope. “The deputy I spoke with thinks she might be one of the Weekday Killer’s victims. Is that right?’

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Ellie said. “Can we see her now?”

The doctor nodded. “This way. But don’t expect her to talk. She’s been severely traumatized, is suffering from hypothermia and had water in her lungs.”

Walking over to the bed, Ellie looked down at the pale brunette. Bruises marked her neck, hands and arms, and a thick purple mark roped around her neck, consistent with the other victims. An IV dripped fluids into her, and oxygen tubes fed air to her.

“How serious is her condition?” Ellie asked. The poor woman looked as if she’d been through hell.

“The hiker who found her said she’d either fallen or jumped over a hundred feet into the river. She hit rocks when she landed, sustained multiple injuries and a concussion. We’re checking for other internal injuries. At this point, all we can do is run tests and wait.”

One Hundred Seven

While Ellie waited for the young woman, praying for her to wake up, she made a trip to her mother’s room––relieved that she could at least check in while she was here. She hesitated at the door, her gut churning as her mother struggled to breathe.

“She needs the surgery,” her father said. “I’m waiting on her to

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