by Rita Herron
Captain Hale motioned her into his office and closed the door behind them. The look on his face as he ran his hand over his bald head made her feel like she was a kid being called to the principal’s office.
“What is it?” she asked without preamble.
He gestured for her to sit, so she sank into the chair in front his desk, then he pushed a folder toward her. Nerves tightened her shoulders as she opened it and began to skim the forensics report. Prints on the dolls belonged to Hiram. One of the boot prints confirmed he’d been at the creek where Penny was taken. And his prints had been found at the Dugan farm, meaning he’d been staying there some, and was the one who’d attacked her that night.
No prints on the grave markers though. Damn.
“I don’t understand,” she said as she looked up at the captain.
“Keep reading.”
His odd tone made her skin crawl, but she flipped the page and found the lab report for Hiram’s DNA. Initially, she didn’t know what she was looking at.
Hiram’s blood type. Genetic markers.
Then a notation. Hiram’s DNA matched her mother’s. But not her father’s. Just what she expected.
But the next section gave her pause. The comparison to her own blood.
Shock bolted through her, and she studied it again. Her DNA and Hiram’s were not a match. Meaning she wasn’t biologically related to Hiram.
She rocked back on her heels. How could that possibly be? Her mother had given birth to him. And to her.
Hadn’t she?
99.
March 11, 9:00 a.m., Bluff County Jail
The winter storm had passed, but the one in Ellie’s life had gained momentum.
Wrangling her emotions as best as she could, she insisted her parents—Randall and Vera—meet her for a chat with Hiram.
Angelica wanted a tell-all. Hell, she wanted a tell-all, but not to feed the reporter. To quiet the disturbing questions in her head.
Her parents were waiting when she arrived at the county jail where Hiram was being held. Both looked haggard and wary. She hadn’t spoken to them in days.
Although her father would make a full recovery, he still looked pale and weak and had lost at least ten pounds. Vera’s perfect make-up and hair were a mess. Dark circles that no amount of make-up or concealer could hide rimmed her eyes.
“What’s this about?” her father asked.
“I thought we should have a family sit-down,” Ellie said, struggling to keep her voice even though she wanted to scream at them.
Vera fidgeted, twisting her hands together, then they seated themselves in a small visiting room. Hiram shuffled in, cuffed and shackled, dragging one leg behind him, his eyes darting toward her then Vera. The crazed look of hatred deepened.
Vera looked terrified, a shell of the woman who always dressed in silk pantsuits and pearls. Her father clenched her mother’s hand, as if even now he was protecting her from her mistakes.
Ellie laid the folder on the table. “I have forensics and DNA reports here.”
Vera gave a small gasp. Hiram showed no reaction. Resignation lined her father’s face.
First, she addressed Hiram. “Hiram, it’s true that Vera is your mother. But I am not your sister.”
A smile tugged at his mouth, as if he’d been anticipating this day for a long time. “I know,” he muttered. “Why do you think I despised you so much?” He glared at Vera. “I was her blood son, but she chose you instead.”
Ellie’s heart cracked. Battling tears, she turned and faced her parents. “Is it true? You didn’t give birth to me, Mom?”
Vera bit down on her lower lip, then murmured a pained yes.
100.
Ellie swallowed against the pain choking her. Disbelief warred with the need to know everything now.
She angled her head toward Hiram. “How did you know?”
Anger blended with his sinister smile. He was enjoying seeing her suffer. “I hacked into the social worker’s files on me and found out my mother’s name,” Hiram said. “Then I started looking for her. But the surprise was on me.” He gave Vera a scathing look. “When I found Mommy, she had a little girl. At first, I thought you were my sister, but then I heard Randall say something about adoption. That having you was so wonderful.”
“I felt guilty for so long about giving you up,” Vera said. “So Randall and I decided to adopt. Then the agency matched us with Ellie.”
Hiram grunted. “So you took home pretty little Mae with the blonde curls and big blue eyes and raised her as your child.”
Bitterness turned his eyes to molten lava as he turned back to Ellie. “You weren’t even her blood, but she spoiled you while she left her own son to rot.”
“I tried to find you, but they told me I signed over all rights to you,” Vera said. “I thought you’d been adopted into a loving home.”
Ellie’s mind swirled with emotions. No wonder Hiram had harbored such animosity toward her.
“But I wasn’t. I was shuffled around from one bad house to another, carrying my clothes in a trash bag,” he hissed. “But once I found out where you lived, I snuck out to see you every chance I got. I watched you with Mae. Watched you dress her up and put bows in her hair and give her dolls.” He gestured towards Ellie’s father. “And I saw you make that dollhouse for her. She loved it so much that I decided to start carving dolls—”
“You lured me away with the dolls and the promise of another dollhouse with pretty shutters and twirling lights on top,” Ellie murmured, her memory returning.
It had worked because she’d loved the dollhouse her father built for her. The one she’d found in her father’s workroom…
Her breathing grew unsteady. She had loved dolls once. Until she’d been locked away in that dark hole with the plain wooden doll and its sightless eyes, and its mouth shaped into a silent scream. The one Hiram had given her.
The memory returned in vivid clarity.
Hiram had snuck up at the edge of her yard holding the doll. “Look, I made this one just for you.” She’d been intrigued that he’d made it himself.
“I built a dollhouse, too. Follow me and I’ll show you.” And she had. She’d crawled into the cave in the woods to see it, but there had been no dollhouse.
“I’m sorry, Hiram.” Regret and shame laced Vera’s voice. “I thought I was doing the right thing for you. Thought you’d have a better life than I could give you.”
He pounded his cuffed hands on the metal table. “Just stop. You tell yourself you did what’s best for me, but you just didn’t want me because I wasn’t perfect.”
“That’s not true,” Vera cried.
He tried to lurch toward her, but the guard rushed in, yanking Hiram backward. He cursed and growled his rage toward Vera as he was escorted through the thick steel doors.
Silence, thick with tension, vibrated through the room as the door clanged shut.
Vera opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to lose her words as emotions colored her face. Randall reached for Ellie’s hand as if to console her, but Ellie jerked it into her lap.
Taking a deep breath, she pinned them with angry eyes. “If you didn’t give birth to me, then who did? Who are my birth parents?”
Randall’s eyes darkened, and Vera made a choked sound. “We are your parents,” her father said. “We loved you and raised you and gave you a life.”
“A life built on lies.” Ellie shook her head. “Who is my mother?” she asked Vera.
Vera’s lower lip quivered. “We honestly don’t know, Ellie. You’d been in foster care for almost a year when we learned about you.” Her voice softened. “You were so little and frightened looking, and painfully shy that it was heartbreaking. You needed a mother. The minute I saw you, I wanted to take you home. Don’t you see how much we loved you?”
Ellie couldn’t see anything at the moment, except for the pain of betrayal and secrets.
Unwanted tears threatening, she stood and rushed from the room. He
r parents—no, Vera and Randall—called after her, but she didn’t stop until she was outside.
Fresh air bathed her face, and as she climbed in her Jeep, she saw her reflection in the mirror. Exhaustion and shock streaked her still-bruised face, a deep lost look permeating her eyes. She had the sudden urge to talk to someone, to call Cord. Or Derrick. But… she couldn’t ask them for comfort—or forgiveness—without telling them everything.
And she wasn’t ready to do that. First, she had to sort it out herself.
Once, she’d known who she was and had her life all mapped out. She was Randall and Vera Reeves’ daughter and planned to take over as sheriff of Bluff County.
But everything she’d known and trusted and loved was based on deceit. Ellie, Mae… she didn’t even know her real name.
Or where she was going next.
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Books by Rita Herron
Detective Ellie Reeves
The Silent Dolls
A Letter from Rita Herron
Thank you so much for diving into the world I’ve created with Detective Ellie Reeves in The Silent Dolls! If you enjoyed The Silent Dolls and would like to keep up with all of my latest releases, you can sign up at the following link. Your email address will never be shared, and you can unsubscribe at any time.
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Having grown up with the North Georgia mountains, Appalachian Trail and the Smokies practically in my own backyard, I’ve always been drawn to stories set in rural small towns. The tall mountain ridges, sharp drop-offs, treacherous terrain, and dangers on the AT are beautiful, but also ripe for murder and mystery and made the perfect backdrop for my new series!
Faced with the dangers of the trail, colorful small-town characters and eccentrics hiding out off the grid, I imagined Ellie Reeves as tough, spunky, and a woman who refuses to back down from anything. She has lived by maps all her life and has her life all mapped out.
But what happens when that plan is derailed? When she must race against time to save a little girl from a serial killer who has been hunting near Ellie’s hometown? When everything Ellie thought she knew about herself and her family blows up in her face?
I hope you enjoyed the beginning of Ellie’s journey as she faces these questions and tackles the first case in a crime wave sweeping across the AT! If you liked The Silent Dolls, I’d appreciate it if you left a short review. As a writer, it means the world to me that you share your feedback with other readers who might be in interested in Ellie’s world.
I love to hear from readers, so you can find me on Facebook, my website and Twitter.
Thanks so much for your support. Happy reading!
Rita
www.ritaherron.com
Acknowledgments
First of all, a huge thanks to Christina Demosthenous for seeking me out. When she suggested I write a detective series, I had this one in the works and was thrilled to send it over. Her insight from day one, suggestions and edits helped shape it into a much better book with twists I hadn’t even dreamed of. I also want to thank the Bookouture team for the great cover and title.
Also, thanks to my agent Jenny Bent for her unfailing support and guidance.
Another thanks to my long-time critique partner and writer friend Stephanie Bond for brainstorming and encouraging me from the get-go with this dark mystery series. And much appreciation to attorney Aaron Rives for answering questions about the law.
We – both author and publisher – hope you enjoyed this book. We believe that you can become a reader at any time in your life, but we’d love your help to give the next generation a head start.
Did you know that 9% of children don’t have a book of their own in their home, rising to 13% in disadvantaged families*? We’d like to try to change that by asking you to consider the role you could play in helping to build readers of the future.
We’d love you to get involved by sharing, borrowing, reading, buying or talking about a book with a child in your life and spreading the love of reading. We want to make sure the next generation continues to have access to books, wherever they come from.
Click HERE for a list of brilliant books to share with a child – as voted by Goodreads readers.
Thank you.
*As reported by the National Literacy Trust
Published by Bookouture in 2020
An imprint of Storyfire Ltd.
Carmelite House
50 Victoria Embankment
London EC4Y 0DZ
www.bookouture.com
Copyright © Rita Herron, 2020
Rita Herron has asserted her right to be identified
as the author of this work.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers.
eBook ISBN: 978-1-83888-760-5
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events other than those clearly in the public domain, are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
