by Rita Herron
Silence surrounded her as the darkness swept her into a black abyss, but she fought the fear running through her. She had survived the dark before and she would survive it again.
You survived the coffin, she told herself. But only because Derrick found you.
She couldn’t count on Derrick this time. He had no idea where she was. He might not even know she was missing.
In desperation, she ordered herself to turn her head. Like the rest of her body, it felt heavy, weighted down.
As she moved, metal clanked, cutting sharply into the silence. Something was around her neck. The collar. Trembling, she realized he’d chained her inside the space, and she squeezed her eyes shut to stem her rising hysteria.
When her breathing steadied, she listened again. A scratching sound echoed from somewhere in the dark.
“Hello, is anyone there?” she choked out.
Nothing.
But seconds passed, and there was another noise.
Suddenly something sounded from above. Footsteps. Shuffling. A thumping noise, as if someone was tapping their fingers on the wall.
A memory flitted through her brain. Someone else used to do that. Another man towering over her. Pushing her against a wall. His fingers tapping on the wood as his breath bathed her neck and face…
A shudder coursed up her spine as the door creaked open.
Then came his voice. “Ellie, Ellie, where are you?”
One Hundred Thirty-One
Bluff County Hospital
Kennedy’s sister rushed in on the sheriff’s heels, and Derrick raised a hand to her in a silent plea to let Kennedy answer. “Ms. Sledge?” Derrick asked. “Is that the voice you heard?” His heart pounded as he waited for her response.
“No,” she whispered. “That’s not him.”
The sheriff glared at Derrick, but the FBI agent ignored him. “Thank you so much,” he said to Kennedy. “You’ve been a big help. Now get some rest.”
Lara rushed to her sister’s side, and Derrick started to step into the hall.
“There’s one thing he said,” Kennedy murmured. “He hated Ellie, said she humiliated him, and that she was the cause of everything.”
Derrick contemplated the statement. They needed to look back at other cases Ellie had worked and look for any reference to a woman named Cathy. “If you think of anything else, please call me.”
She nodded, and her sister sank into the chair beside her, clasping her hand, as Derrick and the sheriff exited the room.
“Keep guarding her,” Derrick told the deputy.
“You had some nerve back there,” Bryce growled.
“I’m just doing my job. Besides, it was the fastest way to clear you.”
“Ellie’s ass is toast.”
“Let’s find her first, then she can explain,” Derrick replied.
Once again Derrick rang Ellie again, but got her voicemail. “I think she’s in trouble. I’m going by her house.”
“I’ll go with you,” Bryce said.
“No. I’ll drop you at your office. Get a voice recording of Finton and McClain and we’ll have Kennedy listen to it. Also, there was DNA beneath her fingernails. Send both men’s DNA samples to the lab for comparison.”
Meanwhile, he had to find out who Cathy was. She might be the key to finding Shondra and Ellie.
One Hundred Thirty-Two
Somewhere on the AT
As his voice boomed down the steps, Ellie was beginning to be able to move her hands and legs again. The cold metal floor where she lay was the bottom of a cage, she realized, and in the darkness she’d managed to reach up and feel the sides. There were bars, she figured, revolted.
Is this where he’d killed some of his victims? In this cage? In this room? Had Shondra sat in this very spot? The questions spun in her head.
Terror bled through her as his feet shuffled across the floor, but she tamped it down with steely determination. She didn’t want to give him the pleasure of seeing her fear.
He stalked toward her, a hulking shadow with a black mask. He was tall, with wide shoulders like a linebacker’s. Ham-sized hands. Heavy footfalls. She held her breath as he inched towards her.
Keys rattled as he unlocked the cage door. He knelt in front of her, icy black eyes piercing.
“Hello, Ellie, it’s good to see you again.”
Again? The voice… she knew him.
“Come on out and let’s play,” he said.
She didn’t move.
He yanked the chain connected to the collar around her neck so sharply pain ripped through her.
“I said come out and play.” Grabbing her by her hair, he forced her to crawl forward. “It’s time you learned you’re the weak one. That you have to obey.”
She’d never obey him––or anyone else.
The chain clinked as he hauled her toward him. Then he stood, towering over her, and kicked her in the stomach. She bit back a cry, gasping for breath, then braced herself as he delivered another and another, grunting with every blow.
With one big, hard hand, he pulled her head up. “Beg me, Ellie. Beg for your life.”
This was what he’d done to the other women before he’d killed them, she realized, lying there at his mercy. This is what he had done to Shondra.
Knowing she somehow had to find a way out, she collapsed into a puddle, staying as still as she could. He knelt in front of her, jerking her face up to look at him again.
“You will beg before it’s over. They always beg,” he spat.
Fury fueled her, and she pushed away the pain, rolling onto her back and kicking him hard. He groaned, reaching for her, but she kicked him again and sent him flying backward.
“You bitch,” he roared. “You’ll pay for that.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice raw.
“Don’t you remember, Ellie? It’s been a while, but I haven’t forgotten. I’ll never forget what you did to me.”
“What I did?” The murdered women’s faces flashed behind her eyes. She was next. Lifting herself to her hands and knees, breathing through the pain, she crawled toward him. But he was fast, wrenching the chain so hard that the collar tightened, choking her. Using it as leverage, he stood and kicked her again, this time in the face. Blood spurted from her nose and mouth, then he delivered a sharp blow to her ribs, sending her to the floor in agony.
“Now you see whose stronger and smarter,” he shouted.
Another kick, another punch to her face with his fist, one after the other relentlessly, until she collapsed, the pain swallowing her.
One Hundred Thirty-Three
Crooked Creek
“Folks, this is Cara Soronto, your local meteorologist. The entire North Georgia area is now under a tornado watch, which means conditions are ripe for a funnel cloud to strike the area. Already five people have died in Alabama and trailer homes were literally ripped apart in Tennessee. My best advice; stay home for the next twelve hours as these dangerous winds roll across north Georgia with a vengeance.”
The car vibrated in the wind as Derrick pulled into Ellie’s driveway, where her Jeep sat. He said a silent prayer that she was safe inside, curled up asleep and hadn’t yet gotten his messages. Despite his gut instinct telling him otherwise, hope flared in him.
Removing his gun from his holster, he eased toward her vehicle. A quick look inside indicated nothing looked amiss. Checking out the surrounding property, he moved onto her porch. The storm clouds were thickening above him, casting shadows onto the rising mountains behind her house. The wind had intensified, trees bowing and limbs cracking off and thundering to the ground. The flowerpot had blown over, spilling soil, and dirt fluttered through the air.
He twisted the doorknob, and the door opened. Not a good sign.
Holding his breath, he eased inside. The sound of a clock ticking echoed in the tense silence. The floor creaked and wind whistled through the eaves as he entered. “Ellie, are you here?” Just the sound of the windowpanes ratt
ling. “Ellie?”
Gun at the ready, he strode into the kitchen, but no one was there. An empty coffee mug sat on the counter, a half full bottle of vodka on the bar.
Unease burned within him as he crept toward the bedrooms. The guest one was empty. In Ellie’s room, Derrick saw with horror that there were three dresses laid out on the bed, as if the killer had been deciding which one she should be laid to rest in. One was a bright fuchsia with ruffled sleeves. The second, an orange low-cut number, and the third, a leopard-skin print. None of the outfits looked anything remotely like Ellie would wear, which meant the killer had brought them here.
A cold knot of fear seized him when he glanced at the closet door. It was ajar, blood spattered all over the floor.
Then he saw the daffodils. Dozens of the petals strewn across the floor like a yellow river.
One Hundred Thirty-Four
Pacing the front porch, Derrick made phone calls while he waited on the crime scene team.
“Ellie dropped McClain at Crooked Creek Police Station, then was headed home,” Captain Hale said.
“McClain is still there?”
“Yes. What’s wrong?”
“The Weekday Killer has Ellie.” He relayed his conversation with Kennedy Sledge.
“It can’t be Finton, then, or McClain. They’re both still in custody.”
Dammit. It wasn’t Finton or McClain or Waters. It wasn’t one of the people who’d sent hate mail to her father. It wasn’t Vinny Holcomb; he was dead. And Hiram was still in prison.
“What other enemies has Ellie made?” he asked.
“A few meth dealers and a couple of wife beaters. I’ll check into all of them and see what I can find out.”
“Dr. Sledge mentioned something about a woman named Cathy. She said he called all the women Cathy and that he blames Ellie for everything. Could be a girlfriend or an ex or even his mother, I guess.”
“The name Cathy doesn’t ring a bell, but I’ll get right on it.”
“Has she busted up an illegal dog-fighting operation?” asked Derrick.
“No, why?”
Derrick explained about the dog collars, and the barking Kennedy had heard.
“I’ll keep that in mind as I search her old cases,” Captain Hale said. “Deputy Landrum is on his way to Kennedy Sledge’s office and I sent another officer to her house. Maybe they’ll find something there.”
“Keep me posted.”
As the crime scene team arrived, Derrick explained how he’d found Ellie’s bedroom. “We need any and every piece of forensics you can find in there. Be sure to check the tags on the dresses. Maybe he messed up and left a print there.”
The team went to work while Derrick paced again, mentally reviewing the evidence they’d found so far. The MO, the victims’ past. The mental health counselor, the fact that there was an impostor who’d posed as Kennedy Sledge.
The pieces just didn’t fit.
He said Ellie had to pay for humiliating him. That she was the cause of everything.
Other than her current boss, the only person who might know about Ellie’s past was her father.
Randall Reeves was the last man on earth Derrick wanted to see. But talking to him might be the only way to save Ellie.
One Hundred Thirty-Five
Somewhere on the AT
Ellie had lost all sense of time. She’d drifted in and out of consciousness, only to be beaten again, suffocated by blackness all over again. In between, she’d thought she’d heard a dog barking somewhere.
That was how he treated her, how he’d treated the other victims.
But she still refused to beg.
He glared down at her now, pulling at the chain to force her to crawl toward him.
“I told you that you’d pay for humiliating me,” he snarled.
He had. Suddenly it all made sense. She knew who he was, what he had said all those years ago. He’d been at the police academy at the same time she had and had tried to bully her into quitting with sexist remarks. He’d tripped her up during their runs, teamed up with two other trainees to mess with her gun so it jammed when she was in a simulation exercise, and groped her by the locker room when he caught her by herself.
All these years later, his words still echoed in her ears. “You’re a weakling. But I can put a good word in for you if you cooperate.”
“I don’t need a good word from you,” she’d told him. “I’ll make it on my own.”
Then he’d shoved his hand up her shirt. “No, you won’t. I’ll make sure of that.”
She’d kneed him in the balls, then punched him and broken his nose. When she’d looked up, two other men had been watching. They hadn’t bothered to help her but she’d heard them laughing at Burton when she’d walked away.
“It was your fault you got dismissed from the academy,” she spat, dragging herself away from the memory. “You got what you deserved.”
His name was Hugh Burton. She’d filed charges against him for sexual harassment and once her complaint was filed, other female officers had come forward. An investigation revealed his violent tendencies towards women, that he was a racist and a hothead who used unusual and unnecessary brute force on the job. He was also found to beat the K-9 unit dogs during training.
“Women have to be put in their place,” he said sharply. “Especially women like you.”
“That’s the reason you killed those women?” she asked. “Why not just come after me in the beginning?”
“I wanted you to suffer. I saw you on the news. I knew you felt guilty about those little girls dying.” A smile curved his mouth. Finally, he’d removed his mask, and she could see his face. He’d aged more than she would have thought. While once he’d been handsome, his thick wavy hair was now thinning. A deep scar on his upper arm looked recent, and his black eyes were menacing.
“It’s your fault my wife left me.” He gripped her arms and shook her so hard nausea caught her in its clutches. “After you got me dismissed from the academy, I couldn’t get another job. When Cathy heard about it, she went crazy.” He shoved his face in hers, spitting on her as he spoke. “I tried to explain, but then she said she thought I had a wandering eye and now she knew it for sure.”
“Then what did you do?” Ellie probed, fearing what the answer would be.
“I did what I had to do, I taught her a lesson. Then she had the nerve to try and leave me. I couldn’t let that happen. But she was insane, she had the nerve to push me, and I grabbed her to keep her from leaving. She said you spoke up against me, and she wanted to be like you. Like you,” he spat. “That she didn’t want to be my wife anymore.”
Ellie saw the scene playing out in her mind in sickening clarity. “So you tried to stop her.”
“I did,” he bellowed. “But she put our little girl in the car and took off, speeding. She was going so fast, I chased after her in my truck, but…” His voice broke. “But she flew around the mountain so quickly she lost control. She crashed and my baby girl… they were trapped.” Wild rage contorted his face. “I tried to get my baby out but… she died right there, trapped in that twisted hunk of metal.”
“I’m sorry about your little girl,” Ellie said, striving to calm him, dreading what was next.
But he wasn’t listening. His fingers dug into her arms. “It’s all your fault. You killed her. You killed Cathy and my little girl.”
Swallowing, Ellie tried to control her emotions. Now he was going to kill her. She had no doubt about that.
“Why wait all these years to get your revenge?” she asked.
“I tried to move on,” he said. “Tried to put it all behind me. But then I saw you in the news. Ellie Reeves a hero, for saving two children.” His voice rose another octave. “That story aired on the anniversary of the day I buried my girl. You didn’t save my daughter, did you? You killed her. You’re not a hero.”
Despite the monster he had turned into, Ellie couldn’t help feeling sympathy for the man in front of her.
“Oh, she’s another one just like you. Thinks she’s better than everyone else. She needed to be put in her place. I made her suffer, too.”
“Where did you leave her body?”
He scoffed. “You should be worried about yourself.”
“Where is she, Hugh?”
“You’ll be together soon. I have the perfect place to dispose of your bodies.”
“All you’ve done is prove that you didn’t deserve to wear a badge,” she spat, thinking of her helpless friend.
Backhanding her, he sent a sharp pain pulsing through her jaw.
“I proved that I’m smarter and stronger than you. All this time you’ve been chasing different leads. Making arrests. Running all over town like a headless chicken. You didn’t have a fucking clue it was me.”
It had been years since she’d last seen him. Since she’d spoken to him. How could she have known?
“You found out everyone I was close to and tried to turn me against them,” she said. “You framed Cord.”
“See how clever I was.”
“And you knew about Hiram.”
“Oh, yes, Hiram and his friend Vinny. All I had to do was pose as a cleaner and I got to talk to your brother. He told me all about Vinny. And that fell into place. Vinny would do anything for your brother, so I helped him get out of that hospital and pointed the finger at the two of them.”
“It was you on the security camera going into Vinny’s room,” Ellie said.
He chuckled. “All it took was some scrubs and knowing one of the guards liked to slip out for a smoke every two hours.”
“You hacked into the therapist’s files,” she said, piecing together the past few weeks. She’d told the counselor—or the woman she’d thought was the counselor—all her secrets, poured out her feelings of guilt, about Hiram and the adoption, her irritation with Bryce, that one night with Derrick, her history with Cord, and the tension between them. “How did you know I was talking to a counselor?”
