now that time was running out for Shondra––if it hadn’t already.
The police artist, Sienna Redding, appeared at the doorway. She was a curvy woman with coppery hair and wore a dozen bracelets. She and Ellie had worked together before—Redding was talented. “Why don’t we walk to the cafeteria and find a quiet spot to work?” she suggested.
Ellie glanced at the real Kennedy Sledge.
“I’ll let you know if she comes to,” Derrick said.
Nodding as she left the room, Ellie’s stomach roiled at the thought she’d been tricked. Despite her better instincts, she’d halfway trusted the woman who’d pretended to be the therapist, when all along she’d been probing Ellie for information to use against her. How many more people would she be blind to? Could she trust herself anymore?
“Take your time,” Sienna said in a quiet tone once they were seated in the cafeteria. “Just tell me what you remember and we’ll work from that.”
Closing her eyes, she pictured the woman’s face.
“She was slender, had an oval-shaped face, a button-like nose, thin lips, hair cut in a dark brown bob. Although she could have been wearing a wig. Her complexion was slightly tanned. Dark brown eyes.”
She glanced at the sketch the artist had been working on, studying it.
“She’s tall,” Ellie said. “And… her lips were a little thinner, eyes set slightly further apart.”
By the time the artist was finished, Ellie was nodding her head. The sketch looked very much like the woman who’d claimed to be Kennedy Sledge.
She and Sienna returned to the hospital room, where the artist handed the drawing to Derrick. While he sent it to the Bureau, Ellie dialed the number she had for Kennedy Sledge, but it was dead.
Heart racing, she called Angelica.
“Hello, Detective. I was just about to call you. My boss wants me to run human-interest pieces on each of the victims and their families. We’re putting it together now.”
Ellie sighed. “I understand. If anyone remembers something useful, please keep me informed.”
“Of course. You have information for me?” Angelica asked.
“I do.” Ellie explained about Kennedy Sledge and the woman impersonating her.
“Oh, my goodness,” Angelica said in a horrified voice.
“Don’t reveal that to the public yet. Run the sketch I’m sending you on the news with the message that she is a person of interest in the Weekday Killer investigation.”
“Got it. How do you think she’s involved?” Angelica asked.
“This is just between you and me,” Ellie said. “But she’s either voluntarily working with the killer or he’s forcing her to help.”
One Hundred Ten
Somewhere on the AT
Shondra spit blood as her abductor swung his fist against her mouth. Her jaw cracked beneath the force, pain shooting through her cheek. He enjoyed making her suffer, his eyes alight with every blow.
Her body had to be black and blue. Every bone and muscle in her screamed with pain.
And she was still weak from when he’d drawn the blood. Tubes and tubes of it. What did he want it for?
“Coward,” she snapped. “Take off that damn ski mask and show your face.”
“I’ll show you who’s a coward,” he growled as he yanked her by the hair and slammed her head against the wall. “I’m the strong one. You want to live, beg for your life.”
Shondra forced herself not to cower from him. She refused to beg. That had only enraged her old man more.
“That was a mistake.” He hauled her out of the cage and toward the steps.
“Men like you think they have to prove their power by using brute force,” Shondra spat. “Real men don’t need to do that.”
“Real men have to teach their women how to behave,” he said. “But you and Ellie never learned that lesson.”
Oh, God, Ellie. She was Shondra’s only chance at survival. She would search for her, Shondra knew it. She wouldn’t give up either, just like she hadn’t given up when those little girls went missing.
“Ellie is better than you,” she said with a challenging lift of her chin.
“She will fucking learn she’s not, just like you will.” With an animal-like rage, he landed another blow to the side of her face. “Now get down on your knees and beg like a dog.”
Shondra’s head was spinning. Blood gushed from her nose and cheek, and she tasted it in her mouth. Her body was so sore she couldn’t tell where one ache ended and the other one began.
Jerking her by the hair again, he tightened the dog collar around her neck, forcing her on all fours. “Beg.”
Her tears were flowing freely now, and she