She’d never told anyone. But he’d bragged that he’d screwed her after the game, the rumor spreading around school. Then his buddies had started coming onto her. She’d had to teach Bryce a lesson after that—she knew she couldn’t let him get away with it, do the same to other girls. She’d tricked him into meeting her behind the bleachers and told him he was right, that she’d had a crush on him for years.
Once she got him naked, she’d used the rope-tying skills her father taught her and tied him to the bleachers. At first, he’d laughed, thinking she was playing some kind of kinky game.
Then she’d walked away.
“You can’t leave me like this, Ellie!” he’d shouted. “Come back here!”
But she’d kept walking. She’d seen his friends nearby and told them Bryce was looking for them, pointing them to where he was tied up.
The next day, he had been the butt of everyone’s jokes. After school, he’d been waiting at her car. “You’ll pay for what you did to me,” he’d snarled. “You will pay, Ellie.”
Ellie shook her head as she contemplated the possibility that he was the Weekday Killer. He’d made no bones about the fact that he’d get revenge on her one day. Had butted heads with her after they both came back to Bluff County to work. He’d been upset at her lack of support over her father’s endorsement as sheriff.
He and Shondra had words, and Shondra had threatened to file charges against him. And then there was the smug look he’d given her when he’d made his victory address to the locals.
There was no doubt that Bryce was narcissistic, and thought men were superior to women. With his job and experience, he’d know how to commit a crime without leaving evidence. He knew she was close to Cord, and if he’d hacked into Sledge’s files or convinced an impostor to pose as a therapist, he could have listened to her sessions. He also knew the Appalachian Trail and could have easily planted evidence.
Hand trembling, she started to turn back and tell her boss, but Captain Hale’s warning taunted her. Best if you avoid the sheriff right now.
How could she tell him that she suspected their very own sheriff might be the monster they were looking for?
One Hundred Twenty-Three
Ellie cornered Deputy Landrum before she left. Bryce had questioned Carrie Winters’ clients and coworkers at the gentlemen’s club, but she hadn’t seen a list of their names.
“Deputy Landrum, did you ever see the list of Carrie Winters’ clients at the Men’s Den?”
“I saw the sheriff’s, but then Fox’s partner sent a list over, too. I haven’t looked at it yet.” He frowned, then clicked a few keys on his computer. “Here it is.”
“Let me see.”
Ellie claimed the chair beside him and skimmed it, searching the names. “Some of these look fake,” she said.
Heath nodded. “These men value their privacy.”
“See if you can connect any of them with the Ole Glory Church.” She combed the list again, and she zeroed in on the seventh name—Rocky Henry. Her heart stuttered.
Rocky was the nickname Bryce had in high school, because he was obsessed with the films, and Henry was his middle name.
Her fingers curled around the edge of the desk. Bryce was one of Carrie Winters’ clients. No wonder he’d volunteered to question the people at the Men’s Den. And he’d intentionally failed to mention that he knew the victim.
Nerves tightened her neck, and she knew that she needed proof first before telling the deputy or her captain. If the sheriff was the perp they were looking for, it would be difficult to take him down. She needed to share her theory with someone, though, so she called Derrick on the drive home. She got his voicemail and left a message.
The scent of death and her own sweat from the hike lingered on Ellie’s skin, so she decided to grab a quick shower before she confronted Bryce. It was better to question him at his office rather than at Haints, where he was probably deep in a beer and burger. By the time she made it there, Derrick could meet her and provide back up.
Running on adrenaline, she hurried up to her front door. Thunder crackled and popped overhead, the sky darkening by the second. The wind caught her hair, tearing it from her ponytail, smothering in her face.
Ellie glanced around but nothing seemed amiss, yet she couldn’t shake off the