coughed up blood as he shoved her face to the floor, setting his foot on the back of her neck. “Beg.”
Closing her eyes, Shondra willed herself to be strong, but he’d already attached chains to her wrists, tightening them so she couldn’t claw at him. A sob wrenched from her gut as he stomped on her neck and then she crumpled to the cold cement floor, curled into the pain.
“You will,” he shouted. “You will beg. Or you will die today and, unlike the others, no one will ever find you.”
One Hundred Eleven
Saturday
Bluff County Hospital
The next morning Kennedy Sledge still showed no sign of coming to.
The doctor warned them that her physical injuries coupled with the trauma were severe, and they had to be patient. But it was damn hard to be patient when another woman’s life––and countless others––depended on you.
“I talked to Captain Hale,” Derrick said. “He said that office was empty, cleaned out as if no one had ever been there.”
“It was all bogus,” Ellie said bitterly.
Derrick nodded. “The crime scene team is going over it.”
Heading to the cafeteria, Derrick brought them back sandwiches, and they ate and waited some more. Ellie didn’t have an appetite but she knew she needed her strength, so she forced the food down, barely tasting the turkey sandwich. Flipping on the TV to see the news, they exchanged grim looks.
Angelica Gomez stood with the sheriff, giving her usual lead-in. “Folks, four women have died at the hands of the Weekday Killer so far, and he’s still out there hunting.”
“She’s stirring panic,” Derrick said, his jaw clenched.
“She’s just reporting the truth,” Ellie replied. “Those people lost loved ones, young women with their lives ahead of them, all because of me. And I haven’t done a damn thing to stop him.”
“Those people lost their loved ones because a crazed psycho is murdering women, Ellie. The blame goes on him, not you.”
Ellie shook her head. Logically that was true, but the killer targeted her with his messages for a reason. He took her friend for a reason too.
“Sheriff Waters, do you have an update on the Weekday Killer investigation?”
Ellie knotted her hands in her laps as Bryce addressed the mic. “Yes, I do.” One by one, he put a name to the women’s faces as photographs appeared on the screen.
“Do you have a suspect?” Angelica asked.
“At the moment, we are working several theories and have two persons of interest. But we can use your help out there, folks. This killer is leaving his victims on the Appalachian Trail in a ritualistic manner. If you have any idea who he is or see anyone suspicious in town or while hiking or camping, please call the sheriff’s office immediately.”
As Bryce started to walk away, Angelica stopped him. “One more thing, Sheriff. I received a copy of this sketch with information that this woman is wanted for questioning in the murders. Can you tell us more about her?”
A muscle in Bryce’s cheek twitched, and Ellie realized he would have her head for not informing him first. “I have no statement regarding her at this time.”
Fury snapped in his eyes as he clicked his boots and turned and strode back into the sheriff’s office.
“He’s pissed,” Derrick muttered.
Let him be.
Just then, Ellie’s phone dinged and she stared at the screen in horror. It was a picture of Shondra, deathly pale, her ebony hair spread across her shoulders as she lay on a bed of daffodils in a grove of cypress trees, bramble wrapped around her throat.
One Hundred Twelve
Derrick’s gut clenched. “What’s wrong?”
“I just got this.” Ellie’s hand trembled as she lifted her phone, but it slid from her hand and hit the floor.
He wanted to reach for her but grabbed the phone, looking at it first. With Vinny dead and ruled out as a suspect, Finton could be the killer.
His stomach plummeted when he saw the photo––they were too late for the deputy.
Pressing her fist to her mouth, Ellie stifled a sob. Unable to stop himself, Derrick wrapped his arms around her. She trembled, clutching his shirt and crying into his chest. They sat like that for several minutes, absorbing the news and settling into the shock.
Ellie didn’t deserve to be tormented like this. She was estranged from her family and guilt-ridden over all the girls’ deaths. Her family was torn apart and she might lose her mother. And now Shondra, her friend. Anger took root in his soul.