Elle Unleashed: A Gripping Psychological Thriller with a Twist

by Ditter Kellen

  And then her gaze landed on his stove. His gas stove.

  Quickly snuffing out the pilot light, Elle switched on all four burners, including the oven, and then hurried back out the way she’d come… Through the doggie door.

  She ran through the backyard, wiped her prints off the gate’s latch, and tore out down the street like the hounds of Hell were at her back.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Elle had been running for less than two minutes when an explosion rocked the night. The fire had apparently reached the kitchen in Carl Erwin’s house where she’d left the gas on.

  Now that she’d made it a few streets over, Elle slowed to a walk. The last thing she needed was for someone having heard the explosion to look out and see her running for her life.

  She kept her head down, cutting through side alleys and avoiding well-lit areas at all costs.

  The sounds of sirens could be heard long before Elle made it to the safety of her own home.

  She wanted more than anything to run next door and fall into Ida Mae’s arms. She knew the elderly woman would welcome her, pour her a drink, and talk her off the mental ledge.

  But Elle wouldn’t do that to her. It had to be after three in the morning, and Ida Mae was getting up there in age. Elle couldn’t continue to invite her into her madness.

  A knock sounded, sending Elle’s nerves scattering throughout her body.

  “Open the door, Elle.”

  Hurrying across the room, Elle unlocked the kitchen door and jerked it open to reveal a robe-covered Ida Mae.

  Neither of them spoke for several heartbeats, and then Ida Mae stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “Go shower, girl. You’ve got blood in your hair.”

  Elle’s heart turned over. She opened her mouth to say something—anything—but the words were trapped in her throat.

  “Go on,” Ida gently demanded. “I ain’t going anywhere. I’ll be right here in this kitchen when you’re done.”

  Grateful didn’t begin to cover how safe Ida Mae’s words made Elle feel. She attempted to convey that very thing with her eyes but probably failed miserably.

  Elle spun on her heel and rushed off down the hall to the bathroom. She stripped out of her wet clothes, placing the knife and gun on the counter next to the sink, and then turned on the shower.

  She adjusted the water as hot as she could stand it, all the while gagging from the sickly-sweet smell of blood emanating from her. She should have washed her hair back in Carl’s bathroom, but she hadn’t been thinking.

  Snatching up the shampoo, Elle scrubbed her scalp with her fingernails until it began to burn. She then snatched up a washcloth and set about cleansing her skin. Yet no matter how hard she washed herself, she didn’t feel clean. But that was nothing new to Elle. She had never truly felt clean.

  After spending an eternity in the shower, Elle got out and brushed her teeth and hair. She wrapped herself in one of Evan’s terrycloth robes and left the bathroom.

  Ida Mae was sitting at the bar, swirling a small glass of dark liquid in her hand. She handed the glass over when Elle moved to step around the bar.

  Elle stopped on the other side to face her. Now that she’d showered and rid herself of the wet clothes she wore, she felt a little better. Very little.

  “I don’t suppose I need to ask if you’re responsible for the explosion that woke me from a dead sleep tonight?” Ida Mae pulled a pill from the pocket of her robe and slid it across the bar.

  “What is that?” Elle questioned, her voice barely audible.

  “It’s antianxiety medication. It’ll take the edge off.”

  Elle needed no further coaxing. She plucked up the small pill, popped it into her mouth, and chased it with the whiskey Ida had given her.

  Ida Mae remained quiet for a moment and then, “Tell me what you did.”

  Elle took another swig of the whiskey she held and then met Mrs. Gordon’s gaze. “I rid the world of another monster.”

  The elderly woman continued to watch her without speaking.

  “He was a pedophile, Ida Mae. He hurts children. Or he did. He won’t hurt anyone else, ever again.”

  Ida Mae rubbed at her eyes. “What are you planning on doing, killing the entire list of sex offenders in Atlanta?”

  “Yes.”

  Blowing out a weary-sounding breath, Ida Mae slumped. “Listen to me, girl. I understand why you’re doing this. And I can’t say I haven’t entertained the idea of doing it myself. But you can’t spend the rest of your life killing monsters. You will get caught.”

  “I know,” Elle admitted, taking in Mrs. Gordon’s somber expression. “But I can’t stop. For every monster that I kill, a child somewhere will be spared. And if I can save just one innocent life from being destroyed, then it’s worth the risk to me.”

  “What about Sarah and Evan? Don’t their lives matter to you?”

  Elle’s temper flared. “Of course they matter to me. Why do you think I’m doing this? These monsters lived within walking distance of Sarah’s home and school. She will never be safe as long as they are drawing breath.”

  “And if you get caught, what do you think will happen to Sarah then? Not only will it destroy her, but she will forever be known as the daughter of a serial killer.”

  Ida Mae’s words slammed into Elle with the force of a truck. Not only had she referred to Elle as a serial killer, but also as Sarah’s mother. And Mrs. Gordon was right. Elle would ruin Sarah’s and Evan’s lives if she were caught.

  “Look,” Mrs. Gordon began, reaching across the bar to touch Elle on the hand. “If anyone understands why you’re doing this, it’s me. Do I agree with it? More than you’ll ever know. You exacted revenge on the man who shot Evan. As well you should have. But to go around killing every man on a sex offender’s list? You won’t just go to prison for that, Elle. You’ll likely get the chair.”

  Elle believed every word Mrs. Gordon spoke. Not only would she be put to death if she were caught, but she would drag Evan and Sarah down with her.

  She licked her numb lips, realizing and accepting what she had to do. The pain of her decision nearly buckled her knees. If not for the whiskey and the pill Ida Mae had given her, Elle would most likely crumple to the floor.

  “I have to leave, Ida Mae. Before Evan gets out of rehab.” It hurt even more to say the words aloud.

  Tears gathered in the elderly woman’s eyes. “I know, Elle. I know…”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Elle spent the weekend grieving. She had to leave. There was no other alternative. She had killed ten people, and truth be told, she would kill again.

  No matter what the laws stated, Elle couldn’t sit idly by while pedophiles were free to breathe the same air as Sarah. And not just Sarah, but all the other children that would eventually fall victim to them.

  Passing through the den, Elle took a seat on the sofa and switched on the television. A pretty blonde anchorwoman sat behind a desk, a screen behind her showing what was left of Carl Erwin’s burned house.

  “According to police, the victim had been brutally stabbed multiple times prior to the fire that destroyed his home.”

  Elle’s breath froze in her lungs. How was it possible for Carl’s stab wounds to be obvious after his body had burned in that fire?

  The anchorwoman continued to talk, but Elle no longer listened. Carl Erwin’s death would now be considered a homicide. Which meant an investigation would be launched, and Clyde Arlington’s house fire would likely be looked into as well.

  Elle turned off the television and pushed to her feet. She left the house by way of the kitchen and hurried across the yard to Mrs. Gordon’s.

  The elderly woman opened the door and stepped back to allow Elle entry. “I take it you saw the news?”

  Elle nodded, immediately moving to the kitchen table to take a seat.

  Ida Mae joined her. “You need to start making plans to get out of here before they begin to close in on you.”

  “I
know. But where will I go? I can’t return to Wexler. My farm is under investigation.”

  “No, you can’t go back there ever again. In fact, you can’t go anywhere in the States. If you ever become a suspect, they’ll find you in the States.”

  Elle rubbed her palms along the tops of her thighs. “Then where will I go?”

  “Someplace where they don’t have extradition laws with the United States. And somewhere you can survive. Wherever you decide on, you’ll need to get a visa to stay there. Some places don’t require visas, but most do.”

  Elle’s hands stilled. “What is a visa, and where would I get one?”

  “Lord, girl, I don’t know. You’re going to have to get on the computer and research it all. I wish I knew, but I’ve never owned a computer. I’m only familiar with what I’ve read or learned from the television.”

  Elle blew out a shaky breath. “I am going to the courthouse tomorrow and filing for an annulment. I can’t leave while I’m still married to Evan. He’ll never be free of me if I don’t.”

  A certain sadness entered Ida Mae’s eyes. “He’s going to be devastated, you know.”

  If Elle were being honest with herself, she would be affected by it also. But she would think about that later, once she relocated. “I know, but it’s the right thing to do.”

  Ida Mae nodded. “How are you doing on money?”

  Elle shook her head. “I have about two thousand dollars in my account.”

  “That’s barely enough to get you out of the country, let alone buy a visa and rent a place. You’re starting over. You’ll need enough to live on until you can find a job.”

  The thought of being in a new country and working for a living terrified Elle. She’d never had a job outside of working on her farm.

  Ida Mae held her gaze. “I know you’re scared. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “I’ve never had a real job before,” Elle softly confessed. “I don’t even know what I would be good at or how to go about finding a job.”

  Mrs. Gordon sat there for long moments without speaking. And then, “I have some money saved up. I—”

  “I can’t take your money!” Elle blurted, horrified at the elderly woman’s suggestion.

  Ida Mae’s gaze softened. “Nonsense. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m getting on up in years. And I have no children to leave it to. Trust me when I say, I can afford to part with some.”

  A rush of emotion overcame Elle. This woman who’d only known her for a few months had just offered her a way out. “I don’t know what to say, Mrs. Gordon…”

  “You can start by calling me Ida Mae more often. Mrs. Gordon makes me sound old.”

  Elle laughed, a rusty sound that teetered on the edge of tears. “I’ve never known anyone like you.”

  “And you likely never will again,” Ida Mae quipped. She pushed to her feet. “Go home and research nonextradition countries. Pick one that you think you’ll be happy in and make plans to start over. I’ll come by tomorrow and check on things.”

  Elle stood also. She wanted to give Ida Mae a hug, to thank her in some way other than with mere words, but she couldn’t force herself to do it.

  Ida Mae must have sensed her struggle. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Elle.

  Elle returned her embrace. Once her arms closed around the elderly woman’s back, she found it difficult to let go.

  “It’ll be okay, girl,” Ida Mae softly crooned. “Everything will be okay. Now on with you. You’re burnin’ daylight.”

  With one last squeeze to Ida Mae’s shoulders, Elle released her and fled to the safety of Evan’s house. She had work to do and not a lot of time to do it in.

  If she had left even the smallest bit of evidence at either Clyde Arlington’s or Carl Erwin’s house, the police would be knocking on her door before long.

  Elle mentally went over everything that had happened since moving to Atlanta. The police would never find the bodies of Waylon Redding or Marlon Hurley. They were both lying along the banks of the swamp in the form of gator dung.

  No, they wouldn’t be discovered. But Carl Erwin’s death might just get her caught. Especially, if she were seen running away from his house the night she’d killed him.

  Making her way to Evan’s office, Elle booted up the laptop and began her search for nonextradition countries. She read through the extensive list of places listed there until she came to one that piqued her interest. Montenegro.

  After studying several articles on applying for visas, Elle ran across one called residency by investment. Summed up, it meant purchasing a residence permit simply by buying property in the small southeastern country.

  Montenegro happened to be one of the cheapest places Elle had found so far. And further research showed that it would fit the criteria of what she needed. A country that didn’t have an extradition treaty with the United States, unlike its neighbors, Serbia and Croatia.

  Another hour was spent learning about the foods and language of Montenegro. Forty-two percent of the population acknowledged Serbian as their native language, while thirty-seven percent declared it to be Montenegrin.

  Elle ran a hand down her face. How was she supposed to escape to a foreign country where the general population spoke Serbian? Elle had never even heard of Serbian before reading the articles she’d found on the internet. She would definitely have to hire an interpreter once she arrived.

  Closing the laptop, she stretched and got to her feet. She’d been sitting in front of that computer for hours.

  With somewhat of a plan in mind, she grabbed the keys to Evan’s car and left to go collect Sarah.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “Did you have fun at your grandma’s?” Elle ask Sarah while she knelt next to the tub to rinse the shampoo from the child’s hair.

  Sarah nodded, her head tilted back and her eyes tightly closed. “She has lots of pictures of Mommy.”

  Elle’s heart squeezed in her chest. “You miss her, don’t you?”

  “I miss her all the time,” came Sarah’s soft reply.

  Changing the subject before the little girl grew upset, Elle cleared her throat. “I’ll tell you what. After we get home from school tomorrow, I’ll take you to the pet store and get you the puppy your daddy promised you before he hurt himself and ended up in the hospital.”

  Though Sarah’s eyes were still closed, her face lit up with happiness. “Can we really?”

  “We sure can. Now, let’s get you finished up and into bed. It’s getting late.”

  Sarah stood and lifted her arms, giving Elle full access to her armpits.

  Elle promptly tickled her.

  A high-pitched squeal burst from the little girl’s mouth to bury deep inside Elle’s heart. She would miss Sarah something terrible when she left. And she would have to leave… She had no choice.

  Once she had Sarah dressed in her nightgown, Elle climbed into bed and pulled the child’s head up onto her shoulder. She would make the best of what time she had left with Evan’s daughter, storing memories that would have to last her a lifetime.

  “Will you tell me a story?” Sarah asked on a jaw-popping yawn.

  Elle stared up into the dark, a sadness wrapping itself around her. She didn’t know a single story to tell.

  Tightening her hold on Sarah’s little body, Elle whispered, “I’m not very good at stories.”

  Sarah yawned again. “All grownups know stories.”

  “I— Why don’t you tell me one instead?”

  The little girl snuggled closer. “Okay, but just one, and then it’s your turn. Once upon a time…”

  * * * *

  Elle walked Sarah to school the following morning, her heart heavy with the thought of having to leave.

  It still amazed her how much she’d come to care for Evan and his daughter in such a short amount of time. Ida Mae, too. In all Elle’s life, they were the only people to accept her for who and what she was. Other than Sarah. Evan’s daughter had no idea what Ell
e was capable of. And Elle wanted to keep it that way.

  Arriving home, Elle climbed behind the wheel of Evan’s car and struck out for the courthouse. She would file for an annulment.

  She couldn’t bring herself to think about Evan and how an annulment would affect him. He would likely hate her. Which was probably for the best. Elle would rather he think she’d abandoned him than for him to know the truth.

  Her mind drifted back to the bodies discovered beneath that barn. Murders that Evan had helped cover up. He hadn’t judged her for the killings, stating that she’d acted in self-defense, or that her mind had snapped due to the horrific abuse she’d endured at the hands of those men.

  But how would he feel if he were to find out about the men she’d killed in Atlanta? Would he be horrified? Probably so. Either way, Elle wasn’t about to take that chance. She also refused to involve him in the murders.

  Elle arrived at the courthouse twenty minutes later. She passed through the metal detector and trailed down the massive hall to the appropriate office.

  After taking a number, she sat down to wait.

  Fifteen minutes later, her number sounded over the intercom.

  She stood and glanced around, noticing an impatient-looking woman sitting behind a glass, waving her over.

  Elle trailed forward and took a seat in front of Miss Personality of the Year.

  The woman slung out a hand as if waiting for Elle to hand her something.

  “I-I’d like to get an annulment,” Elle stammered, suddenly more nervous than she’d been in a while.

  The clerk lowered her face but kept her sarcastic gaze locked on Elle. “On what grounds?”

  “I don’t understand,” Elle whispered, hating the insecurity in her voice.

  In an almost bored tone, the clerk stated, “In Georgia, your marriage can only be annulled if it is prohibited by law or never had the potential to be valid. The reason or grounds for annulment is if one or both spouses was mentally incompetent at the time of the marriage ceremony.”

  “That’s me,” Elle admitted, shifting in her chair. “I-I’m mentally incompetent.”