“Tell me about it.” And Ellie Reeves seemed to be at the center of it all.
One Hundred Twenty-Five
Somewhere on the AT
Ellie blinked furiously, struggling to see where she was. Panicked, she tried to move and failed. Her body was a dead weight. The sharp sting in her neck… he’d drugged her.
She’d lost time. Had been unconscious for a while. Had no idea if it was still night or morning.
A pungent odor inundated her, but she couldn’t define the source. Fighting the fear threatening to consume her, she inhaled several deep breaths, forcing herself to focus.
At least she was still alive. But for how long? She opened her mouth to call out for her friend, but her voice died in her throat. How long would it take for the drug to wear off? She couldn’t fight him if she couldn’t move.
Closing her eyes, the message echoed in her head.
I told you that you’d pay for what you did to me.
She’d driven home, planned to confront Bryce.
But some bastard had jumped her from behind. His hands had been around her throat, his deep voice in her ear… the sting of the needle… then the world faded to black.
She hadn’t seen his face and his voice… it was so low that she couldn’t tell who it was. “Shondra,” she tried again, but the sound was barely a croak.
One Hundred Twenty-Six
Stony Gap
“Where’s Sheriff Waters?” Derrick asked the deputy on duty as he escorted an angry Finton into the sheriff’s office.
“Probably at Haints grabbing a burger,” the deputy said.
Wasn’t he always? Derrick thought wryly.
He shoved Finton into an interrogation room, the mortician roaring for a lawyer.
“You’re going to need one,” Derrick said. “But think about it, Finton. We can work on a deal if you’ll tell us where Deputy Eastwood is.”
Tearing his gaze away from Derrick, Finton looked down at his clenched hands. “I told you I didn’t do anything to her. Did McClain put you up to this?”
“We have enough to charge you and shut down your business for good,” Derrick replied, ignoring the question. “If you want the chance to see the outside world again, you’d better start talking.”
“I’m not going to confess to something I didn’t do,” Finton snarled. “Maybe McClain is the one killing women. He always had a weird side.”
The animosity between the two men was obvious. Frankly, Derrick liked both of them for the crime, but he needed proof.
“Maybe the two of you did it together,” Derrick suggested. “You’re trying to cast suspicion on each other to confuse the case.” But where did Waters fit into the picture?
“There’s no way I’d help that asshole do anything. I’d like to see him hang,” Finton replied, leaning back in the chair and barking a sarcastic laugh.
Derrick pinned him with a cool stare. “Then perhaps you framed him.”
“I wish I’d thought of that.” Finton’s eyes flickered with a challenge. “But I didn’t. Now, lawyer.”
Pushing away his chair, Derrick stood. Moving around the table, he yanked Finton up by the arm. “All right then. Maybe some time in a cell will change your mind.”
“My phone call,” Finton shouted. “I want my phone call!”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Derrick said. “Right now, I have to try and save a woman’s life.”
One Hundred Twenty-Seven
Bluff County Hospital
Kennedy Sledge’s body throbbed, but she had to keep running.
Escape him.
The women’s scream pierced her ears. Night after night she’d heard them cry. Heard him beating them. Dragging them from the cages and forcing them to beg.
He’d kept her for days. He said he might need her later, but he’d never said why.
Just like he’d kept Shondra. He’d beat her more than the others, saying he would break her, but the deputy was tough, refusing to beg.
The nameless women’s eyes had pleaded with Kennedy to help her. The ones he called Cathy. He called them all Cathy—Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday… She was supposed to be Friday’s child. She could hear him chanting, “Friday’s child is loving and giving…”
Tears flooded her face. She wanted to help them. That was what she did. But she’d been chained herself, deprived of light and food and water for days on end, so she was too weak to fight back. He’d made her listen to the other women’s endless cries. To his sick voice murmuring that childhood rhyme.
Then he’d carried her into the woods and she’d known she would be next.
Tears trickled down her cheeks. She blinked, moaning as guilt seized her for leaving the others behind. She should have run