The Burning Girls: A completely gripping crime thriller packed with heart-pounding twists (Detective Ellie Reeves Book 3)

by Rita Herron

  Mabel held her tighter. She had to protect her. Keep her close or they’d come and get her. And then there was no telling what they’d do to her…

  15

  Pigeon Lake

  Pigeon Lake had been named after a wave of dead pigeons had been found in the trees when the man-made lake had first been carved into the soil. Some believed the birds were an omen of death, and others thought they symbolized the end of pain or suffering.

  The developer had since gotten the pigeon problem under control, although occasionally more flocked to the area.

  With the heatwave, the lake was down and muddy looking, with patches of briars and dead bushes surrounding the water. Several people had reported finding dead fish washed up on the bank, and Ellie thought she detected the stench of them as she wound up the drive to Katie Lee’s home.

  Ellie clenched her phone as she sped toward the Curtises. “What can you tell me about Katie Lee’s family, Deputy Landrum?”

  “Father’s name is Josiah, mother is Agnes,” said Deputy Landrum. “One son, Martin, fifteen months younger than Katie Lee. He just turned seventeen last week. Josiah works for a feed store, mother stays home. They belong to Ole Glory, where the father is a deacon. No arrest record or domestic calls. I talked to the preacher at Ole Glory who claims the couple are good Christians who abide by the law and the Bible and run their house accordingly.”

  “Yeah, where the women have no voice,” Ellie muttered. “Once I notify the family, we’ll need to talk to people at the school.” She pulled up outside the ancient, weathered Victorian, which resembled something out of a haunted-house movie. “Gotta go. I’m here now.”

  The knot in the pit of her stomach grew rock hard as Ellie climbed out and walked up to the door. Pigeons flew across the turrets of the house, late-afternoon shadows casting a gothic gray over the sharp angles and the tiny attic window. For a moment, Ellie thought she saw a face there, but then the image disappeared as if a ghost had just passed.

  Eula Ann Frampton, an old local lady who was legendary for talking to spirits, would say that the face was Katie Lee’s ghost. That she was lost between life and death, unable to find peace until her killer was caught. Ellie shook off the eerie sensation.

  Focus, Ellie, focus. A girl died today. Her parents need to know.

  Ellie stood on the welcome mat and stabbed the doorbell, startling at the sound of the gong-type ring. A minute later, a pale-faced woman answered the door. She looked around forty, with long, straight rust-colored hair drawn back in a bun at the nape of her neck. She wore a plain back skirt that fell to her ankles and a white blouse buttoned to her chin, which looked like it was choking her. She had to be smothering in the ninety-something heat.

  “Yes?” the woman said, a puzzled look on her face.

  Ellie identified herself. “I need to talk to you and your husband,” she said. “Please, it’s important.”

  The woman’s thick eyebrows pinched together, accentuating her stark angular face. At one time in her life Agnes Curtis might have been young and vibrant, but over time something had drained the spark out of her. Now she looked like a shell of a person.

  Regret made Ellie’s chest throb. She was just about to add to the woman’s pain.

  “Who is it, Agnes?” A man Ellie assumed was Josiah appeared behind Agnes. His long beard was scraggly, and he was wearing a black shirt and black pants.

  “She says she’s a detective.” Agnes instantly stepped behind her husband, as if that was her place.

  “May I come in?” Ellie asked. “I really need to speak to both of you.”

  The man was tall and thin, his chin as pointed and severe as his narrow eyes, with cheekbones that pushed against his leathery skin. Both of them looked older than their years.

  Josiah led the way through the foyer, which was filled with dusty antiques, into a living room heavy with a cloying, musty odor. Through the doorway, she saw pots of dried herbs on the kitchen counter, along with a pot on the stove boiling something that smelled like collard greens.

  “Why are you here?” Josiah folded his arms as if he didn’t like another female, much less a cop, in his house.

  Ellie inhaled a deep breath. “I’m afraid I have some very bad news,” she said quietly. Neither of them reacted, so she forged ahead. “A body was found earlier this morning, and we believe it’s Katie Lee.”

  The woman’s pallor faded to a ghostly white. Josiah stiffened, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

  “No… you… have to be wrong,” Agnes whispered. “Katie Lee… she’ll be home soon. She just went… went out for a while.”

  “I wish I was wrong but I’m afraid I’m not,” Ellie said, her heart aching. She walked over to a side table, picked up a photo of Katie Lee then turned to the couple. “This is Katie Lee, correct?”

  “Yes,” the father said through clenched teeth.

  “I’m so sorry, but I saw her myself. In fact, I just came from where she was found at Moody Hollow.”

  “Moody Hollow?” Josiah snapped. “My daughter wouldn’t go there.”

  “I’m sorry, but she was there, Mr. and Mrs. Curtis.”

  Suddenly a noise sounded, and Ellie looked up to see a dark-haired boy at the bottom of the stairs. The son, Martin. “You found Katie Lee?”

  Ellie nodded and offered him a sympathetic look. “I’m afraid so. I have reason to believe she wasn’t home last night. Is that true?”

  Tension stretched between the family for a long minute.

  “She was here,” the father said. “But she stayed in her room all night.”

  “Apparently she didn’t,” Ellie said, gauging their reactions. “The Medical Examiner thinks she died sometime during the night.”

  Martin gripped the stair rail, emotions darkening his face. “This is your fault, Dad. All your fault she’s dead.”

  16

  Ellie maintained a calm expression as she studied the family dynamics. She silently reminded herself not to make snap judgments. People reacted to the news of the death of a loved one in different ways. Sometimes, in shock and grief, they blamed a family member or even themselves.

  Katie Lee’s brother opened his mouth to speak again, but Mr. Curtis cut him off with a scathing look. “Go to your room, Marty. Now.”

  “Why?” Marty said through clenched teeth. “She was my sister. I have a right to know what happened to her.”

  Mrs. Curtis stepped over to her son and placed her hand on his back as if to calm him, but he stiffened.

  “Mr. Curtis,” Ellie said, “I understand this news is a shock and you’re grief-stricken. But I want to find out exactly what happened at Moody Hollow and I need your help.”

  Mrs. Curtis used an old-fashioned needlepoint hankie to dab at tears that streaked down her pale cheeks like a river. “How… can we help?”

  “By telling me what was going on with your daughter,” Ellie answered.

  “Nothing was going on with her. Katie Lee is a good girl. My son is just a hothead,” Mr. Curtis said.

  The fact that the two were at odds sent red flags waving in Ellie’s mind.

  “When did you last see her?” she asked.

  Mrs. Curtis looked down at her hands. “Last night, when she went to bed.”

  “What time was that?”

  Mr. Curtis responded, “Actually she went upstairs right after supper and locked herself in her room.”

  “What about this morning?” Ellie asked.

  The couple exchanged an odd look. “She didn’t come down for breakfast,” Mrs. Curtis murmured.

  “Is that unusual? Did you check on her?”

  “She’s eighteen years old and moody,” Mr. Curtis said. “Sometimes she locks herself in her room for hours. We assumed that was the case, that she’d come out when she was ready.”

  “I want to see her,” Mrs. Curtis cut in, her voice a shaky whisper. “Please, where is she?”

  Ellie held her breath for a moment. The poor woman did not need to see her daughter in th
e condition they’d found her. But she couldn’t deny them, and they could confirm the ID. “Of course. She’s being transported to the morgue for an autopsy. I can arrange a visit.”

  “We don’t want you cutting up our daughter,” Mr. Curtis said harshly. “We just want to bury her.”

  “I understand, Mr. Curtis,” she said softly. “But when there’s a sudden or suspicious death, an autopsy is required by law. We have to make sure we know exactly what happened to Katie Lee. I’m sure you want that, too.”

  The man folded his arms, and his wife released a pained breath.

  “You mean it wasn’t an accident?” Mr. Curtis asked.

  “That’s what I’m trying to determine, but no, I don’t believe it was,” Ellie said. “I’ll be speaking to her friends and teachers. Anything you can tell me might help. Did she have a close girlfriend or maybe a boyfriend?”

  “Katie Lee did not have boyfriends,” Mr. Curtis said staunchly. “She wasn’t allowed to date.”

  The girl had probably snuck out last night––or had she been lured out?

  “Please just leave us alone.” Mr. Curtis gestured toward the door. “Our family needs time to grieve.”

  Ellie dropped her business card on the side table, then followed him to the door. When she looked back, Mrs. Curtis was sobbing into her hands. She saw Martin slumped on the staircase, watching her leave. His troubled gaze suggested he longed to say more.

  17

  Bluff County Medical Examiner’s Office

  Ellie met Dr. Whitefeather at the morgue, knowing that every hour the family waited meant another hour of suffering.

  Bracing herself for the gruesomeness of the autopsy, she inhaled several deep breaths before entering. Although the ME kept the autopsy room immaculately clean and organized, the scent of chemicals, blood and body waste permeated the walls. The horrible odor of charred flesh and the age of the girl made this one even worse.

  Laney looked up from Katie Lee’s body as Ellie entered, the doctor already well underway in the process of conducting the autopsy.

  The Y-incision marking the teen’s chest made it difficult for Ellie to breathe. Katie Lee had had so much to look forward to in her life. Her petite body was now purple and black due to bruising sustained from the fall, and what skin was left was tinted blue with death.

  At first glance Ellie saw no tattoos or piercings, but judging from her family’s strict religious beliefs, she didn’t expect to.

  Laney pushed her face shield up, a frown streaking her eyes. “I’m almost finished.”

  “Time of death?” Ellie asked.

  “I’d say sometime between ten p.m. last night and one this morning.”

  Laney pursed her lips and motioned for Ellie to move closer. Sorrow for the teen welled in her chest as she looked down at the youthful face. Scrapes and bruises darkened her scorched cheeks and forehead, and her nose was smashed in. There was no way to repair the damage and make her look peaceful for an open casket. That would compound the family’s agony.

  “She died from internal injuries caused by the fall, and blunt force trauma to her head, meaning her brain bled out.” Laney lifted the girl’s head, angled it sideways and parted her hair. Blood matted the dark strands, then Ellie saw the spot Laney referred to. “She fell face forward,” Laney explained.

  “Then how did she get the injury on the back of her head?”

  “Good question. My guess is that someone hit her on the back of the head with a hard object. The force caused her to pitch forward and fall.”

  “So, she was pushed and fell to her death. And the fire?”

  “After she died, so postmortem.”

  Had the killer then created the circle of burial stones around her to indicate she was never coming back?

  “There’s more, Ellie.” Dr. Whitefeather stepped over to the board where she’d displayed the X-rays. “There are other injuries, old ones. A fractured wrist, scarring around her ankles. A torn rotator cuff.”

  Ellie’s eyes widened as she followed the markings Laney pointed out. “Her ankles and wrists were also restrained at some point. And she fought to escape.”

  18

  Stony Gap

  Anger burned through Ellie as she thought of poor Katie Lee. What had that girl suffered, and at whose hands?

  As she parked at the sheriff’s office, she spotted the news van from Channel 5. Local reporter Angelica Gomez had been dogging Ellie for a tell-all about her family. Angelica had confronted her about her adoption, making that public knowledge, and Ellie had redirected, determined for her private life to remain private. But the reporter was nothing if not persistent.

  Had Angelica already heard about the young girl they’d found today?

  Drained from the day, she mopped her forehead with her hand as she entered the sheriff’s office.

  “Sheriff Waters,” Angelica said as she tilted the microphone toward Bryce. “What can you tell us about the recent wildfires spreading across the AT?”

  Bryce spotted Ellie, a twitch of his eyes his only response before he squared his shoulders. “The sheriff’s department is working in conjunction with the National Park Service to determine if the fires are caused by the dry weather conditions or if arson is involved. A warning has been issued to all campers and hikers forbidding campfires and brush fires of any kind, and violators will be prosecuted.” He gestured toward Weatherby.

  “This is arson investigator Max Weatherby,” the sheriff said. “He’s heading up the investigation into the fires.” Bryce angled his head toward the other man. “Do you have a report for us, Mr. Weatherby?”

  The big guy’s brows furrowed as he spoke. “At this point, we’re still exploring possibilities. At least two of the five fires appear to have been started by campfires left unattended or not properly extinguished. At a third, we found cigarette butts, which are not often strong enough to start a blaze, although an empty can of lighter fluid like one might use on an outdoor grill was found in the woods nearby. Forensics are analyzing them for prints.”

  Angelica turned back to Bryce. “Sheriff Waters, you released a statement yesterday stating that a burned body was found at Winding Rock. This is the first casualty due to the fires. What can you tell us about the victim?”

  Bryce’s eyes met hers, his posture stiffening. “At this point, all I can say is that the body belonged to a female,” Bryce said. “We don’t have an ID yet as we’re awaiting autopsy results.” He paused. “Anyone with information regarding the fires or this woman should call the sheriff’s office immediately.”

  “Is it also true that the body of a young woman was found at Moody Hollow?” Angelica didn’t miss a beat.

  “That is correct,” the sheriff said then raised a brow in question to Ellie.

  Ellie stepped in front of the microphone.

  “Detective Reeves, have you identified the young woman?”

  Sucking in a breath, Ellie said, “Yes, her name is Katie Lee Curtis, and her family has been informed. At this point, we are treating her death as suspicious. If anyone has information regarding her or her death, please contact our police department immediately.”

  “What was cause of death?” Angelica pressed.

  “That won’t be determined until after the autopsy.” She gave Angelica a warning look, not to probe. “I’ll keep the public updated as soon as we have more information.”

  “Sheriff, there were two bodies found less than twenty-four hours apart,” Angelica said, determined to get one of them to talk. “Are these deaths related?”

  Ellie’s heart thumped as she waited on Bryce’s response. “It’s too early in the investigation for me to speculate. But I’ll be sure to keep the public apprised as details become available.”

  Frustration flickered in Angelica’s eyes, then she smiled at the camera. “Look for updates at WRIX Channel Five News. But folks, please be careful. The Appalachian Trail has been chocked full of danger the last few months, and these fires are not to play around with.
And ladies, be careful. There may be another murderer out there.”

  19

  Bluff County Sheriff’s Department

  “What happened with the boys?” Ellie asked as she followed Bryce into his office.

  The sheriff took his desk chair, swiveling to face Ellie while she claimed the seat across from him. “Jerry Otterman was upset. His parents seemed concerned. He plays baseball and is working towards a scholarship to play in college. I don’t think he had anything to do with Katie Lee’s death.”

  “I got that impression, too, although I think he has a crush on Jaylee,” Ellie said. “Her father was okay, too. Mother died of cancer. He seems protective, but not in an overbearing way. I think she’s a good kid.” She crossed her legs. “What about Will?”

  “He claims he and the girl weren’t going out, but his mother shut him down from talking. The minute I asked, she yelled at the boy that he wasn’t supposed to be out goofing off, that he should have been home doing yardwork, not messing around with girls.”

  “Did Will mention why exactly he and Katie Lee hated Ole Glory?”

  “What teenager these days likes to go to church with their parents?” Bryce gave her a sardonic look.

  Ellie sighed. He had a point. “That may be all it is. But there’s something off about it. And the killer stacked stones in a circle just like they do at Ole Glory cemetery.”

  “What do the stacked stones mean?”

  “They represent places of burial or gathering places to honor the dead.” Ellie rubbed her forehead. “I’ve heard that church borders on cult-like behavior. That there’s talk of them becoming an independent entity.”