by Rita Herron
A noise sounded behind her, and she glanced around. There was a movement in the thickets.
It was a man. He was big, tall, a hulking figure. Danger emanated off him. He halted in the shadows and looked straight toward her as if he could see her in the dark.
Terror-stricken, she sprinted toward the sound of the river, her lungs straining for air as she ran.
She couldn’t let them take her baby away again.
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Ellie raced into Mabel’s room, hurrying to the bed, but it was empty. The crib in the corner confused her. It was empty, too, and the guard radioed for security to lock down the hospital.
“Have them search the parking lot, the cars, the hospital inside and out,” said Ellie. “She could be hiding somewhere inside this place.”
The guard gave a quick nod. “I’ll get someone looking at the security footage. If she’s here, we’ll find her.”
“While your people cover the inside, we need to start a search around the perimeter of the building.” She glanced at her watch. “When was the last time someone checked on her?”
“Ten,” the guard said as he gripped his radio. “We do bed check and last meds then. The nurse assistant would have reported it if there was a problem.”
“Could she have gotten into another patient’s room?” Ellie asked.
“Not without a master key,” the guard stated. “And that would be difficult to obtain.”
“Have your people search every single room. We’ll start outside. Where is the closest exit from here?” Ellie asked.
The guard stepped to the doorway. “The staff exit down the hall. It’s the door that triggered the alarm.”
Ellie and Derrick raced out, surveying the hall as they passed closed doors to patients’ rooms. As Derrick pushed open the exit, they covered each other as they crept outside.
Pulling her flashlight from her pocket, Ellie shined it across the treeline, searching and listening for movement.
She spotted some brush that had been trampled and took off toward it, Derrick on her heels. Body tense, she wove through the rows of thick trees, sweeping the area as she jogged over fallen tree stumps and dry weeds. The sound of the river in the distance echoed. Mabel might head that way.
She gestured toward Derrick and they separated, spanning out to cover more territory. Perspiration beaded on her skin, and thunder rumbled, the thick trees shrouding the gray skies. Brush crackled beneath her shoes and a tree branch slapped her cheek as she shoved her way through the denser areas.
Then a scream broke the silence.
Ellie hurried past a section of hemlocks, climbing over rocks as she neared the river. Her torch illuminated a patch of weeds, then she spotted a figure in dark clothing dragging someone toward the edge of the cliff above the river.
“Stop! Police!” Ellie aimed her gun at the man’s back, creeping closer.
He turned and looked at her, the feral look in his eyes cold and hollow. Dear God, the woman was holding a baby. And Max had her by the throat.
“Let her go!” Ellie ordered
It was almost as if the man didn’t hear her. He pushed the woman toward the edge, and Ellie raced toward them. The woman’s stringy dark-blond hair hung past her shoulders. But when she looked at Ellie, her face looked familiar. She had the same color eyes. And that pointed chin.
Inhaling, she shouted, “Let her go, Weatherby, It’s over.”
“Listen to her,” Derrick shouted from the opposite direction.
Weatherby froze, finally registering their voices. But he grabbed Mabel by the arms and pushed her toward the cliff. “Don’t do it! She’s innocent. Just like you were. Let her go,” Ellie said between clenched teeth.
But his blank look indicated he was in the throes of whatever had happened in those mind-control experiments. “I said let her go,” Ellie hissed.
“Don’t hurt my baby!” Mabel screamed.
“Please,” Ellie said in a whisper as she inched toward them.
“Mae didn’t do anything,” Mabel cried. “Please don’t take her away.”
Ellie froze, the breath leaving her lungs.
Max pulled a lighter from his pocket and flicked it on, the flame illuminating his sinister expression.
“Let the woman and baby go,” Ellie said. “We know you didn’t mean to do this. We know what Dr. Hoyt did to you and the others, but we’ve arrested him. It’s over. It’s time for it to end.”
Dr. Hoyt’s name brought a reaction, and Max stiffened. Emotions flashed across his face, before his shoulders slumped. Then he looked down at Mabel and the baby, giving them a shove.
Ellie’s breath wheezed, watching it happen in slow motion. Derrick fired and hit him in the chest, and his body bounced backward over the ridge.
Heart hammering, Ellie raced toward Mabel, who was screaming and barely hanging onto a tree branch as she struggled not to slide over to her death. Dropping to her knees, Ellie grabbed Mabel by the shoulders, dragging her up over the edge.
The woman collapsed to the ground, crying and hugging the bundle to her. “Get away from me! You can’t have Mae.”
Tears clogged Ellie’s throat as she realized the bundle was a doll. “Mabel,” Ellie said softly. “I’m Ellie. You’re safe now. And so is Mae.”
Mabel collapsed into Ellie’s arms and she wrapped her into a hug. Tears stung her eyes. She’d finally found her birth mother. She didn’t know what would happen next, but she would make sure Mabel got the proper treatment and would know that she hadn’t lost her daughter.
161
Ellie comforted Mabel while Derrick coordinated with the guards and staff at the hospital, then called a rescue team to recover Weatherby’s body.
She desperately wanted to explain everything to Mabel, but shock had set in and the woman lapsed into a catatonic state. By the time her doctor arrived, Ellie had put everything together in her mind and explained what had happened.
“I want a specialist in trauma brought in,” Ellie told the doctor. “We’re going to get Mabel well and off the damn drugs she’s been taking. Then I’ll explain everything to her and make sure she finally has a chance at life.”
The doctor looked harried and worried but agreed.
“I was just following Dr. Hoyt’s direction,” the doctor assured her. “And I promise you we’ll figure out what’s best for Mabel. Now that I know the story and background, I think we can treat her, and her condition will improve.”
Hope filled Ellie as the doctor explained that Mabel would be transferred to another hospital, where she would be treated more like a patient with a future than a prisoner sentenced to life within these walls.
By the time the rescue team recovered Weatherby’s body, exhaustion had intensified her emotions.
Derrick’s dark eyes skated over her, a mixture of tenderness and concern in his voice. “Come on, we’ve done all we can for the night. I’ll drive you home.”
He took her hand and coaxed her toward the car.
Ellie felt like she was in a fog as Derrick drove them back toward town. The case was done. Hoyt was in prison and Weatherby was dead.
Angelica was safe. They’d run the DNA, but she felt certain it would prove that Mabel was Ellie’s mother. And that she and the reporter were half-sisters, and half-siblings of Vanessa Morely, Katie Lee Curtis and Will Huntington. They were all the products of violent acts.
How was she supposed to feel about that? And Will––he had to deal with his mother’s death. She couldn’t blow up his entire world by telling him the truth.
She barely realized it when they reached her house, but Derrick parked and she climbed out, moving on autopilot.
“Take that shower now, Ellie,” Derrick ordered softly. “I’ll make you a drink.”
She nodded, lost and on her last leg. Shuffling forward, she went to her room, undressed and climbed in the shower. The tears fell, hard and fast, and she doubled over beneath the hot spray as Mabel’s pitiful cries echoed in her ears. Would her
mother ever be normal again? Would they have a relationship?
She sobbed until her cries dissipated, then she washed them away, her determination setting in. She was no quitter. No doomsday girl.
Randall and Vera were rebuilding. She could build something with Mabel, too.
Finally, the hot water assuaged her aching muscles and helped wash away the stench of the night.
She towel-dried her hair, pulled on a tank top and pajama shorts and padded to her living room. Derrick stood in the kitchen, the moonlight silhouetting his handsome, strong face, his eyes so dark and sexy that she almost lost herself inside them.
He offered her a drink and poured himself one as well and then he took a sip. “Do you want to talk about it? About Mabel?”
The tenderness in his eyes made tears clog her throat. She tossed back the vodka, determined to hang onto her control. “Not now. I just want to be alone.”
Derrick’s gaze connected with hers for a long minute, questions and worry darkening his eyes. “Are you sure?”
No, she wasn’t. She wanted him to hold her. But she was too vulnerable tonight. So she gave a nod.
He didn’t push her. Instead, he gave her a quick hug and said goodbye.
His taillights had just disappeared around the corner when Shondra arrived. Ellie remembered Shondra pushing her away after she’d been rescued from the Weekday Killer and considered doing the same thing now. But Shondra had cartons of ice cream with her and a bottle of vodka, and Ellie knew that she couldn’t turn her friend away.
“Are you okay?” Shondra asked, as Ellie let her in.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “But I’m glad you’re here.”
Shondra hugged her then pushed past her and went for spoons in the cabinet. She poured herself a drink and refilled Ellie’s, then they carried the ice cream to the back porch. It wasn’t far off dawn now, but the drink and sugar were sorely needed after the day she’d had.
As they inhaled the dark chocolate ice cream filled with peanut butter swirls, Ellie filled Shondra in on what had happened with Mabel and Mae.
“We’re a pair, aren’t we?” Shondra said wryly.
“Yeah, I guess we are,” Ellie murmured.
“I can’t work for Bryce anymore,” Shondra said softly. “I put in for a transfer to Crooked Creek.”
“Good. I need a partner.”
They toasted Shondra’s decision, then sipped their drinks in silence.
Birds twittered and cicadas began to sing. A breeze picked up, and for a moment Ellie thought she heard Vanessa’s childhood giggle floating in the wind as she pumped her legs on the swing in the park. She could almost see her hair blowing behind her as she darted through the trees, the two of them rolling down the grassy bald into the creek below it, splashing and kicking and laughing.
Vanessa’s daughter’s pained face taunted her. Mandy had lost her mother. Ellie knew all about that. Maybe she could make up for not reconciling with Vanessa by being a friend to the girl. She could tell her stories about the images they’d seen in the clouds and their camping trips.
And how once upon a time, before the monsters came, they’d dreamt of rainbows and unicorns and made mud pies in the forest.
If you loved the pulse-pounding action and shocking twists of The Burning Girls, then sign up to Rita’s newsletter for news about her next thrilling and unmissable Detective Ellie Reeves book.
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Books by Rita Herron
Detective Ellie Reeves
1. The Silent Dolls
2. Wildflower Graves
3. The Burning Girls
Available in audio
1. The Silent Dolls (available in the UK and the US)
2. Wildflower Graves (available in the UK and the US)
Wildflower Graves
He looked at the photos of all the women who had to be punished. He’d already chosen the first five. He’d been talking to them for weeks. Watching them. Following them. He knew all their secrets—the secrets he would kill them for.
Detective Ellie Reeves heads into the wilds of the Appalachian Mountains when she wants to get lost—to forget the whispers chasing her and the past that keeps her up at night. She’s sick of having to prove herself to her small town.
But hiking in the endless miles of woods isn’t the escape she was hoping for. One night, as dusk falls, a gust of wind blows some petals on to Ellie’s path. Following the trail, she finds a golden-haired young woman dead on a bed of daffodils, with a note: Monday’s child is fair of face.
When Ellie emerges from the forest, there is a message on her phone. Someone has sent her a picture of her colleague, Officer Shondra Eastwood, with the words: Can you find her, Detective Reeves? Ellie is racked with guilt—while she was busy hiding from life a killer was on the loose, and he has taken her beloved friend.
The wilderness, and its shadows, are the perfect hunting ground for a criminal—but what does the sinister nursery rhyme mean? It soon becomes clear when another dead woman, Tuesday’s Child, is found.
Ellie is up against a serial killer who will claim a victim for every day of the week, and in the next twenty-four hours there will be another body. As this ruthless murderer closes in on her, can she save more innocent women—and Shondra—from his clutches? Or will he get to Ellie first?
An utterly gripping and completely breathless crime thriller for fans of Lisa Regan, Kendra Elliot, and Melinda Leigh. You’ll have trouble falling asleep after this heart-pounding page-turner!
Get it here!
The Silent Dolls
Silent tears trickle down her cheeks as she curls inside the tiny cave-like space. She lies on her side, darkness all around her, rubbing her fingers over the little wooden doll he’d carved. He told her to be quiet, not to cry or scream. Not to be a baby. Her throat was raw, her eyes swollen shut. She wanted her mommy and daddy. She wanted to go home.
When Penny Matthews, a seven-year-old girl with blonde curls and a gap-toothed smile, goes missing in the Appalachian mountains, Detective Ellie Reeves is called straight to the scene. According to Penny’s parents, their daughter vanished after a picnic by the creek. All that’s left behind is a pink friendship bracelet etched with “Penny”.
Ellie knows all too well that the mountains’ endless miles of dark forest and winding rivers are the perfect place for a criminal to hide. Racing against the rapidly setting sun and a brutal winter storm on the horizon, she searches desperately for Penny. And when she discovers the remains of a small body buried with a carved wooden doll, it’s clear she’s up against a deadly serial killer preying on innocent little girls.
As the temperature plunges, Penny’s life hangs in the balance. Most people who get lost in the woods never make it out alive. Can Ellie defy the odds and find out the truth about all the stolen girls? Or will the mountain, and its twisted killer, claim another victim?
A totally gripping and utterly addictive new crime-thriller series for readers who love Lisa Regan, Kendra Elliot, and Melinda Leigh. Prepare to stay up way past your bedtime – but be warned: you’ll be scared to turn the lights off after you’ve raced through the pages.
Get it here!
A Letter from Rita
Thank you so much for diving into the world I’ve created with Detective Ellie Reeves in The Burning Girls! If you enjoyed The Burning Girls and would like to keep up with all of my latest releases, you can sign up at the following link. Your email address will never be shared, and you can unsubscribe at any time.
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I’m thrilled to bring you the third installment in this series! The small town and quirky characters of Crooked Creek, along with the folklore and danger surrounding the mountains and Appalachian Trail are once again ripe with mystery, suspic
ion, secrets and murder.
I’ve always been fascinated by people’s differing reaction to trauma and adversity. Some people let it break them while others use that hardship to make them stronger. Some dwell on the past while others move forward and rise to the challenge.
I hope you enjoyed Ellie’s journey in The Burning Girls as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, I’d appreciate it if you left a short review. As a writer, it means the world to me that you share your feedback with other readers who might be interested in Ellie’s world.
I love to hear from readers so you can find me on Facebook, my website and Twitter.
Thanks so much for your support. Happy Reading!
Rita
www.ritaherron.com
Acknowledgments
First of all, a huge thanks to Christina Demosthenous for seeking me out. When she suggested I write a detective series, I had this one in the works and was thrilled to send it over. Her insight from day one, suggestions and edits helped shape it into a much better series, with twists I hadn’t originally even dreamed of. I also want to thank the Bookouture team for the great cover and title. And a big thanks to Fraser Crichton for catching my mistakes in the copyediting stage!
