“We aren’t telling her anything yet.” Derrick studied the picture while Ellie lifted her head and wiped at her eyes. “I know it’s difficult to look at, but can you tell where this is?”
Her erratic breathing punctuated the air as she struggled to pull herself together. Finally, she gripped the phone with quivering fingers, narrowing her eyes as she analyzed the scene.
“Do you recognize any landmarks?” Derrick asked.
Wiping at her eyes, Ellie took a closer look. “Those cypress trees. They seem familiar.”
“Keep thinking about it,” he said. “My partner just texted that Finton’s truck was spotted. I’m going to track him down.”
Ellie eased away from him and stood, looking at Kennedy Sledge as if debating what to do.
Derrick shook his head. “Stay here with her. She might be the answer to all this, Ellie.”
“I have an idea,” Ellie replied. “Why don’t we release information that we found a surviving victim?”
“Then he might come after her.”
“Exactly,” Ellie said. “I can take her place and wait and when he comes after her, grab him.”
“No, Ellie, that’s too dangerous,” Derrick replied, his eyes darkening.
“But it might work,” Ellie argued.
“I am not letting you use yourself as bait,” he said. “Look what happened last time you pulled that stunt. You were almost buried alive. Stay here and don’t do anything stupid, like going off on your own.”
Ellie lifted a brow in challenge.
“I mean it, Ellie. I’ll call a guard for Ms. Sledge’s room. For both of you.”
His gut was screaming at him––Ellie might be the killer’s next target.
One Hundred Thirteen
Rose Hill
Eula Ann clamped her hands over her ears to drown out the sobs of the latest young women who’d died. Terrible, gut wrenching wails that cut through the air like knives cracking glass.
Just like the little girls, the victims of the Weekday Killer were finding their way among the dead. Trapped between two worlds where peace could not be found, they huddled together, writhing in pain and shock.
In her mind, she saw the blood trickling down pale, slender throats, mouths opened in screams of horror, eyes flashing with the lives they were meant to have, the lives that were stolen from them.
Yes, some were sinners. Yet weren’t we all?
She knew all about sinning herself. About crossing the line and keeping secrets.
Out on the mountain, she saw the clouds darkening and rumbling across the skies. The creek was overflowing and the trail was due for more bad weather, tornadoes closing in.
Cold air and hot air melded together, blending with the anger of the Gods, funnel clouds forming. Gray skies and bare trees that should be blooming by now cast a gloom over the wilderness.
A killer roamed the mountains. Sometimes, in her mind, she heard his feet snapping tree limbs and twigs as he dragged a body through woods and ridges. One night she heard the slosh of creek water on the bank as he tromped through it.
She stared out into the forest, willing God to let her see his face. To hear his voice. To recognize the killer among them.
But she saw nothing. God’s punishment to her for her sins.
So be it. She’d long accepted her fate.
Once again, Ellie Reeves was steeped in the investigation. Trouble and death seemed to follow that girl everywhere, and Eula felt a strong connection to her.
She knotted her gnarled fingers together as yellow daffodil petals floated in the air toward her like little drops of honey in the wind––except these petals symbolized nothing but death. A cluster landed on her rose bushes, the bright sunny yellow contrasting with the blood-red roses.
A sign of evil. An evil that she feared would get Ellie Reeves in the end.
One Hundred Fourteen
Bluff County Jail
Cord twisted his hands together, silently cursing himself for ever befriending Ellie. He couldn’t help but think about the call he’d gotten when he was at the Reflection Pond with Ellie and they’d found the first victim. The call from Roy.
“You’re not a hero, McClain,” his foster brother Roy had said. “Someday everyone will know it.”
Cord ran his hand through his hair. If Roy Finton was killing women to get back at him, their deaths were on him.
Ellie was the only good thing that had ever been in his life. He’d never told her that, and he didn’t intend to put that weight on her, but if something happened to her because of him or his past, he’d never forgive himself.
He sank onto the cell cot, knowing that Waters enjoyed seeing him locked away.