thought he killed your father, why didn’t you go to the police?”
“Because I had no proof.” Finton’s jaw clamped so tight the veins in his neck bulged.
“Or maybe you figured your daddy just ran off.” Derrick let out a sound of disgust. “And you knew if you did go to the cops, they’d investigate and find out what you and your father were doing with the bodies you were meant to take care of.”
“Those people were already dead,” Finton hissed.
“Those people had loved ones and they deserved to be treated with dignity.” Derrick ran his hands over Finton’s clothing. Inside his right pocket, he found keys to his vehicle, but no other keys that might belong to wherever he was holding Shondra.
Maybe the ride to the police station would change his mind. But first he’d let him stew in the car while a crime scene team searched the hotel room.
He locked Finton in the car and made the call, then paced beside the vehicle, waiting while the storm picked up speed. Gray clouds swirled and drifted together forming mountain-like funnels above the trees, threatening to rip them from the ground.
Worry for Ellie mounted in his gut. Had McClain killed Felix Finton? If so, had that whetted his appetite for murder?
He called Ellie, but it went straight to answerphone.
“Ellie,” he said when the beep sounded. “Call me as soon as you get this and let me know where you are. I have Finton, but he may be working with McClain. Be careful. Finton claims McClain killed his father.”
One Hundred Twenty
Somewhere on the AT
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Everything had gotten messed up. The days of the week were off. It started when that stupid woman escaped and he’d had to kill another one in her place.
Not the seven he planned. Then there was the deputy and detective.
The cops were all over the mountain. Everyone was looking. Although he liked that reporter Angelica Gomez for making him famous.
He’d thought about taking her. She was another ball buster. Another one who needed to be tamed. But he’d decided she’d be more useful making sure the whole world knew his name.
That pretty little Honey was perfect though. She’d gotten what she deserved. And she had been so weak she’d folded like an accordion.
They’d already found her and now it was time to move on. He’d show the detective that she couldn’t stop him.
One Hundred Twenty-One
Prayer Point
As she watched the crime scene team search the area, Ellie checked her phone. Another text came through.
I told you that you’d pay for what you did to me.
Her breath caught in her chest. The comment sounded familiar, stirring some sort of memory from the recesses of her mind. She tried to wrack her brain to remember exactly where she’d heard it before.
“What’s wrong?” Cord asked.
Ellie hesitated before telling him about the message. “Sounds personal, Ellie. Who did you piss off bad enough to do this?”
“I don’t know. There are plenty of meth dealers I arrested. But this type of planning doesn’t fit with them.”
Looking back at her phone, she listened to the voicemail messages.
The first one was her captain. “Ellie, what the fuck has gotten into you? Bryce wants you fired for disobeying orders and letting McClain out. I don’t know if I can save your ass this time. Get McClain back here right now.”
Ellie quickly called him back. “I’ll be on my way soon, Captain, but we found another victim. She’s local, Honey Victoria.”
“Jesus,” Captain Hale muttered. “Maude is going to fall apart. She doted on that girl.”
“I know.”
“I’ll make the notification.”
Ellie thanked him, then clicked to listen to a message from Derrick.
His warning about Cord killing Finton made her uneasy. Not because she was afraid of the ranger, but because she’d seen the pain in his eyes when he’d talked about his past. The evidence was stacking against him, pointing to him and Finton being in cahoots.
And if Finton wasn’t the Weekday Killer or acting alone, they were back to square one, with no suspect. What were they missing?
“Agent Fox found Roy Finton and arrested him,” she told Cord. “He denies being the Weekday Killer.”
“Did you really think he’d confess?” Cord asked gruffly.
“No, but I was hoping. Shondra still needs us to find her.” She inhaled sharply. “Cord, the sheriff and Agent Fox think you’re working with Finton, covering for each other.”
“Is that what you think?”
“I don’t know what to think,” she admitted. “The evidence points to both of you. It also pointed to Hiram and a