The Silent Dolls: An absolutely gripping mystery thriller (Detective Ellie Reeves Book 1)

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The Silent Dolls: An absolutely gripping mystery thriller (Detective Ellie Reeves Book 1) Page 23

by Rita Herron


  Ignoring his comment, she rifled through the files, her heart racing when she spotted the one labeled Hiram.

  “At least tell me what you’re looking for, so I can help,” Bryce stammered.

  She shook her head. She didn’t trust him.

  Palms sweating, she opened the file in her lap. A sick feeling stole through her as she spotted a map and unfolded it. Not just any map, but one with detailed markings designating locations where the girls had gone missing over the years.

  Using color-coded markers, her father had pinpointed locations where he’d spotted Hiram. Nearly all of the locations were in close proximity to where the different girls disappeared, but one area had been circled in a different color marker to the others.

  She rocked back in the chair, her stomach churning. Her father had been working the case all along. Had suspected the disappearances were connected, and that this man called Hiram was abducting the girls.

  Why had he kept quiet? Why hadn’t he issued an APB for Hiram and plastered his face on the news? And why had he denied the connection when Derrick approached him?

  Why hadn’t he brought Hiram in himself?

  She snatched the map and her father’s notes, pushed past Bryce and jogged through the reception area. Bryce trailed her to the door.

  “Come on, Ellie. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

  Why? So, he could cover his ass? No way.

  Dismissing him, she jogged to her Jeep and peeled from the parking lot. She had to find Hiram before Penny and Chrissy both wound up in graves like the other little girls.

  82.

  Somewhere on the AT

  The snowstorm was intensifying again as Ellie made a quick stop at her place. She didn’t intend to come back until she found Hiram. And the little girls he’d stolen.

  She prayed she’d be bringing them home alive.

  Quickly filling her backpack full of emergency supplies, she grabbed extra ammo for her service weapon, and dressed in layers then studied her father’s map.

  She pinpointed the best entry point to reach the area he’d circled, about ten miles from where they’d discovered the latest grave, and got back in the Jeep.

  It was late morning by the time she’d maneuvered the slippery winding roads to the trail entry point. Snow fell in a blinding white sheet again, but she pulled her hood over her head, grabbed her pack and set off on the trail.

  This area was deserted, partly due to the weather, partly due to the fact that it wasn’t a direct path to the main trail.

  Grateful her father had taught her his shorthand markings, Ellie followed the map and hiked north through treacherous terrain and over sharp ridges that, even as a seasoned hiker, made her nervous. Wind battered her body, making it difficult to stand, and the snow hampered visibility.

  Miles of steep inclines and twisted paths taxed her calf muscles, and the bitter cold made her bones ache, but she trudged on, searching frantically in case the killer was watching. Finally, two hours into the hike, she spotted a dense cluster of vines and trees.

  According to her father’s map, an old coal mine had once been active in this area. Using her binoculars, she turned in a wide arc to survey the forest. The branches and vines hugged each other so tightly they formed a natural canopy.

  Her pulse jumped. There was a section of vines and branches that looked piled together, unnatural. It had been skillfully done and wouldn’t have been noticed by a passing hiker—she’d been looking closely and nearly missed it.

  Forcing herself to move quietly, she climbed the hill toward it. When she reached the section, she lifted a branch, then another. Her heart skipped a beat. An ATV was hidden under the mound of branches and limbs.

  The area appeared clear, but was secluded. She crossed to where the coal mine shaft was marked on the map. She spotted another clump of branches blocking the opening and peeled them away.

  An eerie silence washed over her as she paused at the entrance, the familiar suffocating sensation gripping her. It was almost like an invisible force trying to drag her away from the opening. Tentacles of fear snaked through her just as they had the night she’d been lost in the dark.

  Get over it. Penny and Chrissy need you.

  Detesting her weakness, she took several deep breaths, then forced herself to focus on the present. She wasn’t a child anymore. The only way to destroy her demons was to face them.

  Resolve setting in, she crouched over and eased into the shaft. Her senses honed, she pulled her gun at the ready. The interior was as black as the coal that had once been mined here, sending her pulse racing, and she removed her pin light from her pocket and shined it across the flooring.

  Dirt and rock, then a tunnel leading to different sections of the mine. At first glance, the space appeared empty.

  But a low sound wafted from somewhere in the rear. She froze, heart stuttering. Crying… the sound of a little girl crying. Chrissy?

  Fear choked her. Was Penny still alive?

  She crept toward the sound, veering to the right when the path split in two directions. Her breathing punctuated the silence, and about a hundred feet in, she came to a more open area and halted. A wooden box sat on the floor, the top open.

  Her breath quickened as she shone her flashlight inside. More of the crudely carved dolls. The killer had been here. Had Penny been here? Maybe Chrissy, too?

  Fear pounded at her chest. Would she find a body in here?

  Using her flashlight to illuminate the interior, she spotted another wooden box.

  Dread filled her as she slowly approached it, and she mentally catalogued the contents. A yellow plastic hair bow. Hair ribbons. A small birthstone ring. A miniature teddy bear on a key chain. A pop bead necklace. A pair of pink shoelaces…

  Dear God. These were things the little girls had with them when they disappeared. Souvenirs.

  The sound again. A child’s sob.

  She had to keep moving. Go deeper into the mine. At least one of the girls was back there.

  She crept deeper into the darkness until she reached another small chamber, big enough for her to stand. An empty mattress lay on the floor in one corner.

  The walls and floor were bare. Hoping to find some clue, she holstered her gun and searched around the mattress.

  A plain brown shoe box had been stuffed between the mattress and the chamber wall. Ellie yanked it out and opened it. Her stomach clenched at the sight of the photographs. Polaroids of the missing children he’d taken, photos of when he’d stalked them. Photos of when they lay dead, eyes open in terror, tiny fingers clutching the little wooden dolls.

  Seconds passed as grief rocked through her, and she pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle a wail of sorrow. Wind whipped through the cold interior. Water dripped, echoing in the hollow emptiness. The darkness surrounded her, closing in on her.

  Tears of panic threatened, but she slowly blinked them back and dug through the box again. A divider had been placed at the bottom, as if hiding a secret compartment. She tugged at the edge, lifted it and found another photograph. This one was grainy and old, the color faded.

  Not a little girl. A picture of a woman holding an infant swaddled in a blue blanket. She flipped the picture over and found a note Hiram had scribbled on the back—“Me and Mom”—along with a date. Ten years before Ellie had come into the world.

  Shock struck her as the woman’s face registered. Denial swept in on its heels.

  The woman in the photograph was Ellie’s mother.

  83.

  Ellie rocked back on her heels, stunned. In the photograph, her mother was holding a baby. A little boy named Hiram. She flipped the picture over and read the date again. Was it the day Hiram was born?

  Dear God. Hiram was her mother’s son.

  Shock robbed her breath. As a little girl, she’d begged her parents for a sister or brother. They’d said they couldn’t have more children. That she invented Mae to replace the little sister she’d never had.

  But sh
e did have a sibling. Hiram.

  Was it true? Why hadn’t her parents told her?

  Where had he been all this time?

  The horrid pieces of the puzzle clicked together in sickening clarity… Hiram had abducted the girls. Hiram was the Ghost.

  Had her parents known and covered for him? Was that the big secret they were keeping? The reason her father had closed the case on Kim Fox?

  Nauseated, she dropped her head between her knees and breathed in and out to keep from throwing up.

  Her mother’s words taunted her. I’ve always done what’s best for our family, and I will until the day I die.

  The room swayed. She was suffocating again, the vise around her throat tightening. Forcing air in and out of her lungs, she fumbled for her phone to call for help. But suddenly the sound of rocks skittering shattered the silence.

  Yanking her phone from her pocket, she whipped her head around. A man clad in a big coat and black ski cap barreled toward her with a wooden club. She threw her arm up in a defensive maneuver, but he knocked her phone from her hand, then lunged at her.

  Pain splintered her wrist as the wooden club connected with bone. “Stop!” she shouted. “It’s over. Where are the girls?”

  A knife glinted from where it hung at Hiram’s belt. He grabbed her but she fought back, ramming a fist into his gut. Grunting, he swung the club against the side of her head.

  Her ears rang. The world tilted and spun. She pawed at the ground, hoping to stay upright, but the darkness beckoned her, and she collapsed.

  Ghastly images bombarded her like a bad movie trailer. The graves… the little girls’ faces crying for help. Penny… Chrissy…

  Her mother holding a baby Ellie had never known about.

  Fighting to open her eyes, she realized Hiram was dragging her across the cold hard floor. Rocks and dirt scraped her hands and body. Bile clogged her throat. Fear choked her. Her gun was gone—did Hiram have it?

  She had to fight anyway. Wake up and find the girls.

  Hoping to slow him down, she remained limp, even as she roused back to life. He was big, with a wooly beard and narrow eyes, slits in his craggy face. He looked weathered, ragged, as if life had worn him down.

  His voice came out low and sinister. “I knew I’d find you one day,” he muttered. “Knew you’d come back to the trail.”

  He shoved her against the stone wall, breath wheezing out.

  She struggled to see though the darkness. “Where are the girls? Are they still alive?”

  Ignoring her question, he yanked her by her hair, but she clawed at his hands to free herself.

  “Why did you take Penny and the others?” she cried.

  He twisted his hand in her hair, pulling it by the roots. “The fosters. All they wanted were the pretty little girls. Just like Mama. She kept you, but she didn’t want me!” he bellowed. “No one did.”

  Ellie’s thoughts raced. Derrick mentioned that at least three of the missing girls had been foster children. Had Hiram known them?

  She had to keep him talking. “Mom gave you up for adoption?”

  “She tossed me into the system like I was a piece of dirty trash. You… you lived the good life with Mama and a daddy, too. You had a family, but I had no one.”

  “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you find us? Find me?” Ellie asked, desperate to understand. “Why prey on innocent children?”

  A little girl’s scream drowned out Hiram’s garbled reply.

  84.

  Stony Gap

  Knowing Ellie was at the hospital allowed Derrick to grab a few hours of sleep and a hearty breakfast. He’d also talked to the ME about arrangements to have his sister’s remains sent to his mother once she’d completed all the necessary testing for the case.

  He strode back into the hospital, determined to talk to Ellie, but she wasn’t in the waiting room. Assuming she was visiting her father, he approached the nurses’ station.

  The nurse buzzed him through to the ICU, and he walked straight to the room where Randall lay in bed, a shell of the strong man who’d interrogated him and his family twenty-five years ago. Mrs. Reeves sat in a recliner beside him, worrying her hands together and wiping at tears.

  Ellie was nowhere to be seen.

  Vera bolted from the chair. “Randall can’t be disturbed.”

  Derrick barely controlled his temper. “Two mothers want their children back, and if I can save them, I intend to. Now step aside before I arrest you for assaulting and threatening an officer, interfering with a police investigation, and as an accomplice to not just one, but multiple homicides.”

  Shock glazed Vera’s expression, and she sank into the recliner like a wounded animal. He ignored the fresh tears in her eyes as he approached Randall’s bed.

  “Sheriff Reeves,” Derrick said. “I want answers.”

  Randall moaned before opening his eyes, then panic flared on his face.

  “Tell me where the missing girls are,” Derrick demanded.

  Randall’s dark brows crinkled. “I don’t know.”

  “Stop lying,” Derrick snapped. “What did you do with them?”

  “Not me,” Randall said in a raspy whisper.

  “Randall.” Mrs. Reeves clasped her husband’s hand. “Don’t…”

  The sheriff gave his wife a dark look. “Time to tell the truth. Ellie’s gone after him.”

  Vera gasped. “What? You told Ellie?”

  “Not everything,” Randall choked out. “Just that it was Hiram.”

  “Who’s Hiram?” Derrick asked.

  “He took the girls,” Randall said. “I’ve been trying to track him down.”

  “Who is he?” Derrick asked, more sharply this time.

  “No time to explain,” Randall growled. “He’ll kill Ellie if you don’t stop him.”

  Derrick curled his hands into fists. “Where do I find him?”

  “Ellie… map at my office.” His voice warbled. He was fading again. “No, no… she probably took it.”

  “Where is he?” Derrick ground out.

  “The trail… Cord. Get Cord. He’ll take you.”

  “The trail is thousands of miles long,” Derrick said. “What part of it?”

  “North of Falcon’s Crest,” Randall murmured. “He moves around but I spotted him near there last.”

  Ellie should have called him. Except that he’d arrested her father, and she was probably trying to prove his innocence.

  Only he wasn’t completely innocent.

  “Go find her,” Randall wheezed.

  Derrick’s first instinct was to go barreling onto the trail with guns blazing. But that was stupid. He’d be lost in minutes. And where would that leave Ellie?

  Alone with a madman?

  As much as he wanted answers, he didn’t want her to die. He’d never be able to forgive himself.

  Stepping into the hallway, he phoned her. One ring, two, three, then the voicemail picked up. He cursed, ended the call and tried again. “If you get this, call me, Ellie. I’m coming as backup.”

  After leaving the message, he called McClain and tapped his boot impatiently as he waited for the ranger to answer. McClain might refuse to help him. Derrick had practically accused him of being complicit in Penny’s disappearance.

  McClain answered abruptly. “Yeah?”

  “Randall Reeves said Ellie is in danger from someone named Hiram. She’s gone on the trail to hunt him down.”

  The ranger cursed. “Which way did she go?”

  He relayed the name of the place Randall had mentioned. “I know you don’t like me, Ranger McClain, but I need a guide on the trail. There’s no time to waste.”

  “Sending you the GPS for the closest entry point to hike into Falcon’s Crest now,” McClain said. “I’ll meet you there.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m not doing this for you,” Cord said gruffly. “I’m doing it for Ellie.”

  85.

  Falcon’s Crest

  The sound of
the child’s scream sent hope bolting through Ellie. At least one of the little girls was alive.

  She had to get to her.

  Find a way to reach Hiram.

  But he looked dazed and disoriented. As if a dark, deep-seated madness had overtaken him. He paced back and forth, dragging one leg behind him, his scarred fingers rubbing the tip of the carving knife he held clutched in one hand.

  “You don’t have to hurt anyone else,” Ellie said. “Especially another child.”

  His right eye drooped slightly as he scowled at her. “Why should I care about them? No one ever cared about me.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” Ellie said. “But I can help you. We can be friends.” She had to keep him talking.

  “Friends?” he shouted. “You’ve been hunting me like a dog.” He swung the wooden club back and forth, banging it against the rocky floor. “When I went into town, I saw you on the news telling everyone you’d find me. Calling me a coward.” His voice rose to a sinister pitch. “You don’t want to be my friend. You want to lock me in a cage.”

  Like he’d locked up the little girls? “No, I want to get to know you,” she said softly. “I didn’t realize I had a brother, Hiram. I always wanted a sibling, but Mom never told me about you.”

  His nostrils flared, eye twitching again. “She loved you, but she got rid of me. She didn’t tell you because she was ashamed of me, ashamed I was ever born.”

  Ellie didn’t know the whole story. Didn’t know why her mother had kept Hiram a secret. Who Hiram’s father was. If her mother knew Hiram was a killer… Or why her father would cover for him…

  “We’ll sort it all out,” Ellie said. “We’ll make Mom explain everything to both of us. Why she stopped us from being a family all these years.”

  She glanced down the mine shaft, toward the part of the tunnel where the little girl’s cry came from.

  “Please, Hiram, the children have nothing to do with us or Mom,” Ellie said softly.

 

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