Ellie seemed oblivious, but he suspected Bryce wanted her for himself. No matter he acted like a bastard. He was a control freak, a man who used his power over women. The fact that Ellie hadn’t fallen at his feet with admiration rankled Bryce’s pride.
Memories of Roy and his foster father’s perversions slammed into him. Roy was a year older than him and already entrenched in his father’s sick ways when Cord had come to live with them. Before then, Cord had been tossed from one place to another, dragging his hand-me-down clothes and too-small shoes in a trash bag just like the one his mother had abandoned him in when he was a baby. She’d thrown him out like garbage, starting a pattern that had lasted his whole life until he’d been released from juvie. He’d lived on his own ever since, chasing his own demons.
The first night he’d been at the Fintons he’d heard Roy and his father laughing as they defiled a young woman’s body. He’d hidden in the corner behind a curtain and watched, biting his tongue until it bled, as Felix crawled on top of the woman and ran his tongue over her. His foster father had stripped his pants, grunting as he’d humped her. Then he’d invited Roy to join them. “Go ahead, son. Have fun. This one can’t fight back.”
Nausea rose in Cord’s throat, and he choked back the need to vomit as the images played in his mind.
He’d tried to tell Roy’s mother, but she was too deep in the bottle to know or care what was going on.
He’d run to the social worker to tell her the next day. But she’d told him to behave, that he was lucky the Fintons had taken him in, since no one else wanted him.
What the Fintons really wanted was free labor to help prepare the dead and keep their disgusting secrets. There was no love for Cord in that home––only trauma.
He studied the scars on his hands. He’d let the rage and beatings get to him. Done unforgiveable things.
Maybe he deserved to rot in here after all.
One Hundred Fifteen
Crooked Creek
Ellie waited until the guard arrived to watch Kennedy Sledge, then drove to the jail to talk to Cord. No matter what Derrick said, she had to find Shondra. There was no way she’d leave her on the trail, out in the elements. Her heart skipped a beat at what state she would find her friend in, but she steeled herself for the worst with a sinking stomach.
When she arrived at the station, Bryce was nowhere to be found. According to his receptionist he’d gone to question Valerie Patterson’s neighbors. At least he was working and not at Haints scarfing down shots of whiskey.
“I need to talk to Ranger McClain,” she said. “He might have information about where another victim was left.”
The receptionist pinched her face. “I hope you find this creep. My daughter is the same age as the women he’s taking, and I’m a nervous wreck.”
“I understand,” Ellie replied. “I’m doing everything possible. Just tell your daughter to stay home or be with a friend at all times until we catch him.”
She pushed through the double doors, making her way to the cells. Her breath stalled in her chest at the sight of Cord staring at the ceiling from that single cot. The cell was dimly lit, and the concrete walls and floors reeked of sweat and urine.
He’d been mistreated as a kid, and now he was locked up for a crime he hadn’t committed. She had to do something about that. Make things right.
She’d failed so many times before, her gut twisting at the thought of Shondra, but she wouldn’t let down another friend.
Approaching slowly, Ellie met his gaze as he turned his head to face her. Seeing it was her, he sat up, but his rigid posture was defensive.
How could she blame him?
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey.”
She released a breath, aching to comfort him.
“I need your help.”
He stood and walked over to the door, then gripped the cell bars. “I told you everything already. Did you find Finton?”
“We went to his house and found evidence. You were right. He’s seriously into necrophilia. But at the moment, he’s in the wind. Agent Fox may have a lead and has gone to check it out.”
A sliver of relief flitted through his grey eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come.
“Cord,” she said, her voice breaking as she pulled her phone. “I think