by Rita Herron
“I didn’t know people still did that.”
“He did. The girl was screaming for help as he chanted and prayed over her. He also talked about bloodletting, said he’d drain the bad blood from her and she’d be healed.”
Ian’s straightened. “He sliced her wrists?”
“No, her mother was there and stopped them from the bloodletting. I was so terrified I ran. Mr. Otter caught me and threatened to beat me if I told anyone.” She hesitated. “Maybe Jim Benton is following in his father’s footsteps.”
“I’ll ask my deputy to tail him,” Ian said. “If he’s hiding something or has Prissy, maybe we’ll catch him in the act.”
“Give me the map, and I’ll retrieve those files.”
Ian licked his dry lips. “Beth—”
She patted her gun. “Trust me to do my job for both of us,” Beth said. “I’ll keep my eyes open. If he’s tailing me, I’ll call for backup.”
Their fingers brushed as Beth took the map, making her skin tingle.
Ian looked so lost and upset that she wanted to comfort him.
But if his father died, he’d hate her, so she rushed toward the door. The sooner she found the cabin, the sooner she’d have access to those files and what was inside.
The skies had turned a murky gray with rain clouds, and the wind had picked up, tossing leaves and debris across the entrance to the ER. Instinct urged her to look over her shoulder. For years, she’d sensed Coach Gleason had been following her, and she’d been right.
The unsub had been watching her, too.
She climbed into Ian’s police SUV and peeled from the parking lot. Although she was new to Graveyard Falls, she’d traveled to the mountains before, and she recognized the general area on the map.
It was slightly north of the falls the town was named after.
Traffic was minimal, night setting in, and she flipped on her lights. The mountains rose around her, lush with newly budding trees, the wind echoing off the sharp ridges. Coyotes, bears, mountain lions, and other wild animals lived in these hills—a perfect place to hide.
A truck passed her on a winding curve, and she sucked in a sharp breath. Crazy driver. It sped on, and she flipped her lights to low beam as she met two other vehicles on another switchback. She slowed, tires grinding on the shoulder as she tried to avoid hitting a sedan that crossed the line.
More storm clouds moved across the sky, obliterating the moon. She passed the turnoff for Hemlock Holler, checked the map, and turned at the point where the rocks were shaped like a bear.
She heard the sound of an engine behind her. A pickup truck on her tail. She hit the gas to move out of the way, but the truck accelerated and slammed into her rear.
Beth jerked forward and braked, but the SUV skidded into a spin. A second later, the truck shifted and backed up, then raced toward her again.
She braced herself for the impact and reached for her gun. She didn’t have time to aim. The truck slammed into the driver’s door and sent the SUV skidding in the opposite direction toward the embankment.
Beth screamed as the guardrails came at her. God help her—she was going over. Terrified, she flung open her door and threw herself out of the car. The SUV sailed over the side of the mountain and crashed below.
She hit the pavement with her shoulder, and a teeth-jarring pain ripped through her arm.
Gasping for a breath, she rolled to her side, gripped her gun, and took aim.
The truck sat facing her, the lights blinding her. She thought the windows were tinted, but it didn’t matter. The headlights were so bright that she had to cover her eyes with her hand. The engine fired up.
Was he coming at her again?
She pulled the trigger. The driver revved the truck engine. Just as she’d feared, he drove straight toward her.
Beth fired again, but the bullet pinged off the pavement. The lights grew closer, the engine roaring. She rolled again and ended up sliding over the mountain ridge.
A boom reverberated through the air. Ian’s SUV burst into flames at the bottom of the drop-off.
She screamed and reached for something to hang on to. A limb jutting from the ground. She closed her fingers around it, but it snapped.
Terror seized her. If she lost hold, she’d plummet to her death.
Ian considered calling the director, but the man had ordered Beth to leave the case alone, so he phoned Deputy Markum instead and relayed what had happened. “I’m at the hospital. My father’s in surgery.”
“I’ve been watching Benton like you requested. He went home with his wife a while ago. You want me to come to the hospital?”
“No, stay with Benton.”
Ian disconnected and went to get another cup of coffee. Through the window by the coffee machine, he watched the sky darken, the wind blowing the trees as if another tornado might be on the horizon.
Fuck. That was the last thing Graveyard Falls needed. They were barely surviving their recent losses and tangling with another lunatic killer.
The seconds ticked by excruciatingly slowly as Ian paced the waiting room. He wanted news, dammit.
For the surgery to be over. For his father to live.
For his mother to act like she gave a damn.
Although as soon as his father went to prison, Bernie Woods had walked into her life and acted like her savior. First he’d been a concerned friend, but soon she’d fallen under some kind of spell when Bernie was around.
And the Reverend Jim Benton—his mother acted as if he were a god.
Could Jim Benton have something to do with these murders? If he was performing exorcisms, had he gone too far?
Although Jim Benton had only been a teenager when JJ and Sunny disappeared.
Something didn’t fit.
Ian gripped his coffee, stewing over the information they had. They were missing something.
His father had kept those files for a reason. They held the key.
Anxious to know what was in them, he punched Beth’s number. Her phone rang and rang, but no one answered.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Beth’s arms trembled as she strained to hold on to the ledge. Her first instinct was to scream for help. But the driver who’d hit her had stopped. Was he going to make sure she was dead?
Gravel crunched. Dirt pelted her face.
He was coming toward her.
Terrified, she glanced down. A small ridge was a few feet below. If she could make it, she could hide beneath the overhang. Then her attacker would think she’d fallen over the ledge.
If she missed, she’d fall hundreds of feet to her death.
Her arms shook with the effort to hang on. The footsteps sounded again. It was now or never.
She whispered a silent prayer, then gauged the distance and width of the ledge and dropped straight down. Thank God her feet hit, but the impact jarred her teeth and her ankle twisted.
Pain ricocheted up her leg as she fell to her knees. Her other foot slid over the edge, and she almost lost her balance and slipped over. She bit back a scream and clawed at the rocky ledge for control.
Heart racing, she crawled beneath the overhang and plastered herself to the wall. She was so dizzy her breathing came out in short pants. She drew her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and laid her head on her hands.
The world spun, the past few minutes replaying in her mind. Who had been driving that truck?
Several seconds passed. The air was colder on top of the mountain, the wind sucking at her. Metal popped and glass shattered below. Smoke and fire shot into the air, the blaze leaping as the gas tank exploded.
She covered her head with her hands and forced herself to take deep breaths. Finally her nerves calmed, and the dizziness subsided.
As the fire began to die down, she craned her head, listening for sounds of the driver or his vehicle. Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Grateful it was on silent, she carefully removed it and glanced at the number.
Ian.
&nb
sp; She fought the urge to answer. She couldn’t give herself away.
She strained to hear above her. The wind picked up. The smoke grew thicker. There was no way she could climb that ledge.
Fear mingled with panic.
Another minute passed, then another. Finally the sound of an engine starting broke the silence.
She gripped her phone and called Ian.
Ian’s phone buzzed at the same time the surgeon appeared at the doorway of the waiting room. He glanced at the number. Beth.
He’d call her back. First he had to see if his father had made it.
He rushed to the doorway. “I’m Ian Kimball. How’s my dad?”
“We managed to remove the bullet, and he made it through surgery. Thankfully the bullet missed his main artery, but other internal organs were damaged.”
Not good.
“Is he going to survive?” Ian asked.
The surgeon gave him a noncommittal look. “The next twenty-four hours will tell. He’s lost a lot of blood and has lapsed into a coma.”
Ian’s chest clenched. “What does that mean?”
The doctor shifted. “His body needs rest and time to recover.”
“How long?”
A grave expression tugged at the surgeon’s eyes. “It could be hours, could be days.”
Ian gave a quick nod. “Do you know who he is?”
“I’m aware that he was shot by a federal agent and that he was handcuffed when he arrived,” the doctor said tersely. “But I assure you that that played no part in my surgery.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that it did.” Ian explained about his father’s history. “A deputy will guard him twenty-four seven. Please call me if there’s any change in his condition. It’s important that I speak to him the moment he regains consciousness.”
The doctor pushed his surgical cap back on his head. “I’ll alert the staff.”
Ian shook the man’s hand and thanked him again. His phone was buzzing once more. Beth. Maybe she’d found something.
He quickly connected. “It’s Ian.”
“Help me, Ian,” Beth rasped. “I need you.”
Fear slammed into Ian. “What’s wrong? Where are you?”
“A wreck.” Static rattled over the line, the wind howling in the background. “On a mountain ledge.”
He raced toward the door. “What? Jesus, Beth, what happened?”
“A truck ran me off the road.” More static.
“Where?”
“On the way to the cabin,” she said over the noise.
Panic set in. “I’ll be there as soon as possible. Are you hurt?”
More static. He shook his phone. He couldn’t hear a damn thing.
God. What if she’d lost consciousness?
A siren wailed from an incoming ambulance outside. Tires squealed as another car roared up behind it. A group of people were leaving, one woman crying on a man’s shoulder.
He glanced at the parking lot and realized Beth had his SUV.
Fuck.
He ran back to the nurses’ station. “I need an ambulance. A federal agent had an accident on the mountain.”
She picked up the phone and consulted with someone. A minute later, two medics appeared.
“What’s the address?” one of them asked.
Dammit, he’d given Beth the map. But he knew the general area. He’d look for signs of an accident. “I’m not sure, but I can take you there.”
Beth clenched her phone with clammy hands.
Déjà vu struck her. She’d had that feeling of helplessness before, a feeling of despair.
When she’d been restrained by the man who’d killed Sunny.
She hugged the wall of the mountain, her gaze scanning the valley below. Thick trees climbed the hills, their limbs bared.
The fire from the SUV lit the night. A patch of evergreens caught her eye. Then a rock formation that reminded her of a cross.
Dear God, she recognized that place.
Images swirled behind her eyes. Kneeling before that cross. Being baptized in the springs nearby. No, not nearby.
In the cave behind those rocks.
The rocks were a natural formation. Tiny crystals hung from the ceiling inside that sparkled and resembled angels.
His deep voice reverberated in her ears. He’d picked the place because it was sacred. He claimed he was the chosen one.
Chill bumps cascaded up her arms and neck.
The cave where he’d held her, where he’d bled Sunny and the other girls to death—she remembered.
Her heart jumped to her throat. If she could lead Ian there, they might find evidence to determine the unsub’s identity and save Prissy.
A siren wailed, signaling its approach. She eased an inch away from the wall, then twisted to look upward. An engine rumbled. Gravel crunched.
Footsteps.
She held her breath. The driver could have come back. The wind rustled the trees. Metal popped from below, and smoke clouded her eyes.
“Beth!” Ian’s voice carried in the wind. “Beth, are you down there?”
Relief surged through her, and she released the breath she’d been holding. “Yes! I’m on the ledge!”
“How the hell did you get there?” Ian asked.
“I jumped when the car started over the edge.”
A dizzy spell assaulted her as she looked down. Smoke billowed from his SUV, a fiery blaze curling upward.
She clung to the rock, shaky and terrified she might slip. “I can’t climb up,” she yelled.
“Hang on,” Ian shouted. “Let me get a rope.”
Beth heaved a sigh of relief. When they got her up, she’d tell Ian about the cave.
Prissy Carson might be there now.
Cold fear consumed Ian. How in the world had Beth landed on that ridge and not plunged to her death? His car had nosedived into the rocks below and was smoldering, a total loss.
Beth would have been, too, if she hadn’t jumped.
Shit.
He ran back to the medics. “Do you have some strong rope I can use?”
One of the medics jogged to the ambulance and returned with a thick rope. The other medic shined a flashlight to illuminate the area, then helped Ian secure the rope to a boulder. Ian tied it around his waist and climbed down the ledge.
Beth was plastered against the rocky wall, trembling. He steadied himself and inched to her.
She fell against his chest, and he couldn’t help himself. He cradled her against his body and rocked her in his arms.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Beth hated herself for being weak, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. Ian’s arms felt warm and solid, comforting, strong.
For a brief second, she felt safe. As if her past wasn’t about to catch up with her.
She’d been running from it all her life.
Hiding behind a new identity. Trying to save other girls to compensate for not saving Sunny.
“Beth?”
Ian’s gruff voice shook her back to reality. She’d shot Ian’s father, and he was in the hospital fighting for his life. She didn’t know if he’d survived the surgery.
But Ian had just saved her life anyway.
She inhaled a deep breath and removed herself from his embrace. “I’m sorry.”
Ian brushed her hair from her cheek. “Are you hurt?”
“No, just shaken.”
“Then let’s get you off this ledge.”
She caught his arm as he began to loosen the rope. “Ian, what about your father?”
“He’s in a coma.” He slid the rope around her waist and tied it securely. “The medics are going to pull you up. Hang on tight.”
“I . . . don’t know if I can do it,” she whispered. “I hate heights.”
Ian cupped her face between his hands. “You can do anything, Beth. You’re the bravest woman I’ve ever met. Just don’t look down.” He gave her a deep kiss on the lips, and thoughts of the ledge faded.
He
yelled for the medics. She took a deep breath, gripped the rope, and began to climb the ledge as the medics hauled her up.
Her legs and arms were shaking by the time she reached the top and the men helped her over the edge. She fell onto the ground panting, still reeling from that kiss.
One of the medics untied the rope and threw it down to Ian. Beth brushed dirt from her face and clothes as she watched them help Ian climb to the top.
His breathing rasped out as he untied himself and crawled to her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. The medic checked her vitals, but she refused to go to the hospital. “Ian, I remembered something. We need to go.”
She signed a waiver for the medics just as CSU and Deputy Whitehorse arrived. The deputy was going to oversee the investigators and then hitch a ride back with the CSU. Whitehorse turned his keys over to Ian.
She and Ian hurried to his police car.
They had to find that cave.
Hopefully they’d find Prissy there.
Alive.
Beth’s statement spiked Ian’s adrenaline, giving him hope they’d find the sick bastard who’d murdered the girls.
The unsub had let Beth go free once. But today he’d returned to kill her.
Why? Because he was afraid she’d remembered his face?
“Where’s this cave?” Ian asked.
Beth tried to smooth her hair into some kind of order. “Behind those rocks to the east. The rock formation is unique. It’s a natural formation that resembles a cross.”
Ian veered onto the highway. “Did you see the person or vehicle that hit you?”
“No. His lights were so bright they blinded me. But it was a truck.”
Ian steered the car onto the highway, then headed around the mountain. “What about the make and model? Color?”
Beth massaged her temple. “Black, maybe.”
“That’s good,” Ian said. “Anything else? Was it a short bed? Long bed?”
“I couldn’t tell,” Beth said. “When he hit me, he must have damaged his own vehicle. I’ll text Peyton and ask her to search for a black pickup being serviced for body damage and to look in the system for locals who might drive a black truck.”
