by T. L. Haddix
“How come you’re not interested in the doctor? I figured someone like that would be your ideal mate.”
The words set flame to Beth’s temper. “Just what criteria are you using to base that assumption on exactly? I can’t wait to hear what you think my ‘ideal mate’ is.”
His jaw tightened at her words, and she watched a nerve pulse in his cheek. “Well, let’s see - he’s successful, something of a pretty boy, but handsome enough, I suppose. He fits in with your crowd, is upwardly mobile - what more could a girl like you possibly want?”
She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. It didn’t work. “Did you or did you not work the Charity Vaughn murder?” She lowered her voice as she stepped toe-to-toe with Ethan and jabbed her finger into his chest, causing him to wince. “Don’t answer that - I know you did, and I’m sure you saw the sex tapes, too.” His own gaze narrowed at that, but before he could interrupt, she continued, ticking the items off on her fingers.
“Let’s take your little list item by item, then, since you apparently know me better than I know myself. Yes, he’s successful. He’s also a doctor, and they tend to have God complexes. Handsome - yes on that score, as well. Problem with guys like that, guys like you? You know just how handsome you are, and you’re so used to getting your way because of it, you think you can do no wrong. I’d take an honest, average-looking man any day of the week over someone with an ego as bloated as Chad Ormsby’s. Fits in with my crowd? What the hell is that supposed to mean? My crowd. If you mean my family, well, think again. My parents and brothers can’t stand him, neither can most of my friends. If you mean the rest of my family, my dad’s folks? Yeah, they probably love Dr. Chad because he’s one of their kind, and that’s not a compliment. The only point I’ll give you is upwardly mobile - I don’t want a man I have to support, so that one isn’t completely wrong.” She snorted as she walked a few steps away, hands on hips. “Why in God’s name would I want to be involved with a man who cannot possibly even engender the concept of love? Do you honestly think that’s who I am, Ethan? I thought we’d settled this last week. Apparently, you can’t let go of your ‘misperceptions.’ ”
Looking away, he thrust his hands into his pockets. “Apparently not. Where’d you hear about the sex tapes?”
“Does it really matter?” Beth asked after a minute, surprised he wasn’t going to continue the argument. “Someone who didn’t want to see me get hurt told me about them, and no, I’m not telling you who it was, so don’t bother asking.” She sighed, suddenly weary. “Are you finished with me here? I have to get back to work.” Ethan nodded, and she turned to walk away.
“Beth.” She hesitated before she turned toward him, a wary look on her face. “Watch your back? I don’t like this.”
She nodded grudgingly in acknowledgment and turned. As she went back into the building, she rubbed at her chest where a pang of disappointment burned. It was a physical hurt, Ethan’s attitude, and after the two nights they’d shared when he’d opened up a little to her, it was just that much more painful to have to take.
~ * * * ~
Ethan stood against the car, watching as she walked away. With a groan, he rubbed his hands over his face and pushed away from the car. Going around to the driver’s side, he got in, his mind going back to how pale her face had been when he had first walked into the newspaper.
For so long, he had fought his feelings for Beth, and now, seeing her suffering, the urge to go to her was even stronger. It made him angry to know he didn’t have the right to do that, and once again, he had lost his temper and lashed out, attacking her and driving her further away. Since she’d kicked him out, he’d spent the nights alone with a bottle of whiskey, trying to put her hurt and vulnerability out of his mind.
He allowed himself a moment to briefly consider what would happen if he were to ask Beth out, but he quickly rejected the idea. With a snort of derision, he asked himself if he had forgotten all the painful lessons he had learned over the years. Most of those lessons had been vicious, and though the scars were hidden inside where no one could see them, they were still there. Beth Hudson wasn’t for him, and one of these days, Ethan was going to convince his heart to accept that fact.
Chapter Fourteen
The roar of the wood chipper was loud in the forest that surrounded the large sinkhole. Illuminated by the lights the killer had set up, the murky water churned wildly inside the natural depression. Recent rains had brought the level of the water up to just three feet below the sinkhole’s lip, instead of the normal eight or so feet. The fast-running underground river would take care of any debris or large particles the chipper didn’t break down.
As he fed the subject’s limbs through the hungry machine, he thought about tonight’s hunt. The chase hadn’t gone as well as he had hoped. The man tired long before the killer was ready to call an end to things. The latest version of his formula wasn’t working quite the way it should, and he was anxious to get back to the lab, to run tests on the tissue samples he had collected. He forced himself to slow down, however. Rushing through cleanup increased the risk of leaving evidence behind, and he couldn’t have that.
Impatient, he waited as the last body part cleared the chute on the other side. Without stopping the chipper, he went to the small lean-to which sat on the side of the sinkhole. Turning on the generator, he powered up the pump that provided water pressure for the fifty-gallon drums of cleaning solution stored there. He dragged the water hose to the chipper and started hosing it down. The odor of bleach reached him even through the respirator he wore, and he swallowed. He hated the smell, but knew it was necessary if he wanted to destroy the evidence.
After finishing the cleanup on the chipper, he turned to his van. Threading the water hose between the front seats, he carefully hosed the cargo area out with the bleach and water solution. When it was cleansed to his satisfaction, he switched the hose to plain water and rinsed the floorboards three times to get rid of the stench of chlorine.
It was nearing sunrise, and the eastern sky was starting to lighten. With the generator shut down, he stored all his tools in the lean-to and pulled the van forward, reattaching the wood chipper to the hitch. As he drove out of the ravine, he stopped and looked around carefully to make sure there was no one watching. Satisfied that he was alone, he pulled out and drove the three miles to his house, pulling the vehicle into the barn.
With the cooler that held the tissue samples in hand, he hurried to his lab and set up the first tests, then carefully stored the remaining tissues in the lab’s small refrigerator. That done, he returned to the van and stripped down to his bare skin. Piling his clothes in the bag that held the test subject’s belongings, he padded barefoot and naked to the small incinerator that sat just behind the barn. He shoved the bag in, fired up the flame, and watched as the evidence burned away.
Satisfied that it had been destroyed, he jumped into the shower. He had installed it in an empty stall next to the lab specifically for nights like these, not wanting to take the chance of any trace evidence ending up inside his house. Though he knew there were minute fibers and particles that could tag along, the chances of anyone finding them after all his precautions were remote. He turned the water off and toweled himself dry before making one last trip to the incinerator to dispose of the towel.
After turning out all the lights in the barn, he walked to the house and let himself in, unconcerned by his nudity. The nearest neighbor was a mile down the road, and there was no one around to see him. He grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator and checked the clock as he opened the bottle. There were still a couple of hours before the tests would be complete, and the computer would run them without any human interference. He decided to try and get a little sleep and, once in his bedroom, he collapsed onto the bed with a sigh. He wasn’t scheduled to work that day, and intended to take full advantage of the fact. As he drifted off to sleep, the images from his previous hunts flitted through his mind, and he smiled.
Cha
pter Fifteen
Sunday afternoon found Jason and Beth in the kitchen at their parents’ farm, cleaning up after the family dinner. Beth was at the sink, loading the dishwasher without speaking. She had been in a mood for days now, and just couldn’t seem to shake it.
Jason’s face was serious as he scraped down plates and handed them to her. “Are you okay? Something’s been eating at you for days now.”
“It’s just been a long, long week. Hand me the platter?” He did as she asked and waited patiently while she closed the door to the dishwasher and turned the unit on.
“I got into it with Ethan again,” she finally said. “Jason, I don’t understand him. It’s almost like he’s two different people. Sometimes he’s so nice to me, and I think maybe… But then he’ll turn around and just say something hateful.” Her eyes reflected the hurt she felt. “Why does he do that?”
“Ethan’s complicated, Beth,” he said as he filled the sink with hot, soapy water. “As long as we’ve been friends, there’s still a lot about him that I don’t know. He doesn’t share very much of himself.”
“Why is that?”
He took his time in answering her. “I’m not sure. He’s been teased a lot because his dad was Mexican, and I believe he keeps to himself to keep from being hurt. Even when he was engaged a few years ago, I don’t think that changed.”
Beth’s gaze fell to the small pan she was drying, not wanting Jason to see her reaction to his words. Though the engagement had ended well before the wedding was scheduled to take place, she still didn’t like thinking about that period of time.
“I suppose I get what you’re saying. I just don’t know why he’s like that with me, though. I thought we were friends, and I’ve never given him any reason to distrust me. Monday night when he stayed with me? He was so sweet. He even let me give him a partial manicure,” she told Jason with a brief smile. “But then he turned sullen, and things got ugly.”
Jason shot her a look. “How ugly? You never did tell me what happened.”
She leaned against the counter. “Not menacing ugly, just… remember our discussion about how people think we have it so easy because of who we are?”
“Yeah. Don’t tell me Ethan thinks that?”
“Maybe not about you, but about me? Yes. Yes, he does. And Jason, he’s drinking a lot more than I thought he was.”
Drying his hands, Jason frowned. “How much?”
She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Enough that when I prank called him a few months ago? He thought he imagined it.”
Her brother rubbed a hand across his face, clearly upset. “I wonder if Chase knows.”
“No, or at least he didn’t tell me if he does. And I talked to him about it when he stayed with me last week.” She looked down at her bare feet, feeling completely lost. “How much of Ethan’s attitude toward me do you think is real?”
“And how much is alcohol induced?” he asked. When she nodded, he sighed. “I don’t know, sis. Like I said, he’s hard to read. But I can’t believe he thinks badly of you.”
Clearing her throat, she felt her cheeks flush. “Stacy thinks he’s attracted to me.”
Jason leaned back against the sink and crossed his arms. “I’ve had the same thought. That’s part of why I sent him to you last week.”
Beth was floored. “You were playing Cupid?”
“If you want to call it that, yeah. Obviously, it didn’t work. I’m sorry.”
She just stared at him. “Oh, Jason. That’s so sweet.”
He scowled. “Sweet? I am not sweet. I’m a cop.”
With a wide smile, she wrapped her arms around him in a bear hug. “I love you, big brother.”
After a minute, Jason sighed and returned the hug. “Love you, too, sis. And if you tell anyone what I did, I’ll arrest you.”
Beth just laughed, knowing he wouldn’t do any such thing. “Whatever you say.”
Chapter Sixteen
The Monday morning meeting at the paper had gone well, Beth thought, as she walked back to her desk. Public feedback had been very positive toward the article that had run Saturday regarding the rumors about devil worshippers operating in Olman County. She hoped it would help calm the mild panic that was starting to creep in, and allow the real purpose of the altars and trespassing to be revealed. She pulled up short as she approached her desk, where a striking bouquet of red, white, and black flowers sat waiting for her.
Julius Lowe, the paper’s other senior reporter, saw her expression and walked over to look at the arrangement. “There’s a card. You want me to take a look at it?”
She shook her head, her footsteps heavy as she came up beside him. Laying her notebook down, she called the front desk.
“Van, I have flowers on my desk.” Her face relaxed as the receptionist spoke. “It’s okay,” she told Julius, who patted her on the shoulder awkwardly and returned to his own desk. She hung up and reached for the card. When she turned the small envelope over and opened it, she caught the faint scent of expensive cologne. After glancing around to see if anyone else was watching, she brought the card to her face and inhaled deeply, letting her eyes close for a moment. She quickly scanned the note’s contents, the words causing a smile to play about her lips.
“Nice article in Saturday’s paper, Ms. Hudson. Your unbiased reporting is much appreciated. Hope you enjoy the flowers. Call me. G.”
Gordon’s phone number was written below the brief words. With a sigh, she dropped the card into her purse and made sure it was tucked inside firmly. She’d grilled Chase about the man, but her brother had been surprisingly closed-mouthed.
“We went to law school together. He’s a good guy, and we’ve kind of lost touch over the past few years. Other than that, if you want to know more about him, I suggest you call him.”
“Ooh! Do you have any idea how frustrating you are at times? Why can’t you tell me more about him? Unless he has something to hide, and you don’t want me to know about it.”
Chase, who had met her for coffee at the Brown Bag, was puzzled. “I’m not trying to frustrate you, I just don’t know what it is you want me to say.”
She rolled her eyes. “Is he dangerous? Is he crazy? Should I be afraid to be alone with him?”
“No, no, and I’d say no,” he answered. “We were pretty close in school, and then life happened and we went our separate ways. Unless he’s changed drastically, you can trust Gordon.” That was pretty much all her brother had to say on the subject, and attempts to get more information out of him had been futile.
Despite her feelings for Ethan, Beth had to admit that Gordon’s apparent interest in her was flattering. After the rocky interactions she’d had with Ethan in the last couple of weeks, plain, undisguised attraction was almost soothing.
Resisting temptation, she grabbed her bag and left for her next appointment, an interview with one of the local school board members. She waved at Vanessa as she hurried out the door, glad the other woman was on the phone and couldn’t ask questions about the tall, dark stranger who had delivered the flowers. Beth had a feeling those would be questions she wasn’t quite ready to answer just yet.
~ * * * ~
By nine o’clock Monday evening, the newspaper building had fallen silent. The only people left in the building were the cleaning crew and Beth, who was working upstairs in the boardroom. Barefoot, with her hair down around her shoulders, she paced back and forth in front of the large dry-erase board that covered the wall at the end of the room. She was using the board to lay out her thoughts, get them all in front of her in one place. Another altar had been found on an outlying farm this afternoon, and it had her instincts screaming.
She had decided to do a timeline, using all the incidents she thought might be related, including several mysterious disappearances. As she stood back and stared at the results of her research, her hands started shaking. The dates of the disappearances fit exactly with the other reports. Though it was circumstantial, this was the sort of proof she had
been looking for all along to back up her instincts. She picked up her camera and took snapshots of the board before erasing what she had written. She didn’t want someone else to stumble upon her notes before she had time to do deeper research. A call to Stacy Kirchner was definitely in order, and perhaps to Gordon, as well.
As she started gathering her belongings, there was a soft knock on the door. She turned and saw Maria Gonzales, one of the two-person crew who cleaned the offices.
“Ms. Hudson, we’re ready to leave. Do you need anything before we go?”
“No, Maria, I’m good. I will walk out with you and Rosa, though, if you don’t mind.” With a glance around the room to make sure she had not left anything behind, Beth slipped back into her shoes and headed for the door, turning the lights out as she went.
“I need to ask you a question. Is Juan still the go-to person for new immigrants around here?” she asked, referring to Maria’s brother-in-law, a community advocate for both legal and illegal immigrants in the Olman County area.
“Yes, Juan is still helping the community. Is something wrong?”
Beth shook her head. “I’m not sure. That’s why I’d like to talk to him.”
“Juan has seemed a little troubled lately,” Maria told Beth in a low voice as they reached the door that led to the newsroom, where her sister waited. “He won’t even talk to Rosa about it, and it has her worried.”
The sisters waited as Beth set the alarm and locked the door, and as they walked across the parking lot to their respective vehicles, there was a rustle in the bushes next to the road. Beth and Rosa both jumped, startled, and Maria turned to eye them with concern.
“You’re both as nervous as cats tonight. Why is that?”
