The words, I am Elle, skated through Evan’s mind.
He inched closer, careful not to startle her. “When you came down here, you said, ‘I am Elle.’ Do you remember that?”
She shrank back a little, forcing Evan to still. “Why would I say that?”
“I don’t know, Elenore, but you did. Right before you tried to kill me.”
The wallet she held slipped from her fingers to land at her feet. “I would never try to kill you, Detective. You’re the only person in the world who’s never hurt me.”
The truth revealed itself to Evan in that moment. Elenore didn’t kill those people… Elle did. The question he had to ask himself then was: would a jury understand that, or would Elenore spend the rest of her life in prison for murder? That is, if she didn’t get the death penalty.
Evan couldn’t let that happen. She’d suffered enough, and there was no way he would allow her suffering to go on. She was pregnant for God’s sake.
Massaging his temples, Evan began to pace the dirt floor of that grave, his gaze continuing to land on Elijah’s rotting corpse.
What he was about to do went against everything he’d ever believed in. And if caught, he would spend his life behind bars alongside Elenore.
But the longer he stood there, the more he convinced himself it was the only thing he could do. He knew the system inside and out. He knew how it operated, and he knew that Elenore would be locked up for the rest of her life.
If not for her father’s murder, definitely for killing the judge. Especially since there was no proof of wrongdoing on the judge’s part. Only Elenore’s word. And that wouldn’t hold up in court.
“Elenore, look at me.”
She lifted her watery gaze.
Clearing his throat, Evan began, “I know what Elijah did to you. What the others did as well. And Alice, she was the prostitute your father used to sell you to them, wasn’t she?”
More tears filled Elenore’s eyes. Her entire body began to shake. “S-she buried my baby down here. That’s how I found out this place existed.”
Evan’s heart cracked.
In the psychiatric hospital, Elenore had confessed to him about her miscarriage at fifteen. Apparently, the deceased child had been buried in the same hole that Alice now lay in. A fitting end for the prostitute.
Making the decision that could very well come back to haunt him, Evan took a step closer. “I need you to listen to me, Elenore, and listen good.”
She blinked but didn’t respond.
“I’m going to need your help getting Elijah’s body out of here. Do you understand?”
Confusion clouded her eyes.
Evan reached up and touched her on the arm, relieved to see that she didn’t shrink away from him. “Focus, Elenore.”
“What do you want me to do?” she whispered, uncertainty lining her words.
Evan blew out a patient breath. “We are going to wrap Elijah’s body in that tarp lying over there. Then, we are going to wipe this place clean of our prints. Lucky for us, it’s mostly dirt. We’ll just need to clean the prints from the wallets, the box, the lantern, and Alice’s purse. Do you understand?”
More tears leaked from Elenore’s eyes. “Why would you help me, Detective?”
Why, indeed? he wondered to himself. “Because you’re innocent.”
“But—”
“No,” he interrupted, a little too harshly. “Trust me, you’re not to blame. Now, help me do what has to be done, and let’s get out of here while we still can.”
Chapter Three
Elenore’s insides felt cold. Though she knew it to be warm beneath that barn, she shivered uncontrollably.
Her gaze kept straying to the bodies stacked up in that corner—bodies she was responsible for killing.
She glanced back at Evan to find him watching her intently. She’d almost killed him too.
“Did you hear me?” he was saying, pulling her focus back to his previous words.
“You…you want me to help you get rid of Daddy’s body,” she whispered, her hands automatically rubbing her chilled arms.
Evan leaned his face in closer. “I know you’re in shock, Elenore. I am too. But if we don’t get this body out of here, and soon, you’re going to be charged with murder. Do you understand what that means? You’d live out the rest of your life behind bars. That’s assuming you don’t get the chair. Now, come on, I need you to focus.”
Elenore studied his face, the seriousness in his eyes. “Okay.”
“Good girl. Now, hurry and get that tarp.”
She forced herself to move, hurrying across the dirt floor and grabbing hold of the tarp that had previously covered the bodies.
“Spread it out over the floor, right there,” Evan ordered, jerking his chin toward a place not ten feet in front of the corpses. He began removing his T-shirt. “Make sure the edge is close to Elijah’s body.”
Elenore began to panic. “W-why are you undressing?”
“I’m not,” he growled, obviously sensing her fear. “We’re going to use the material to wipe this place clean once we get this slimeball’s body out of here.”
Elenore swallowed hard and set about arranging the tarp while Evan ripped the T-shirt in half. He tossed the halves onto the wooden shelf.
“Okay,” Evan began, rushing over to Elijah’s body. He removed the dead man’s shoes and then gripped him beneath the arms and rolled him onto the tarp. “Now, I’m going to roll him up in it and tie off this end. You knot up your end. Understand?”
Elenore couldn’t seem to find her voice, so she sent him a quick nod.
She waited for Evan to finish covering her father and then commenced to tying off his feet area.
Evan knotted the top and dragged the body toward the exit.
Once at the foot of the ladder, he hoisted the corpse to his shoulder and began to climb.
Elenore could see the detective’s back muscles straining under the weight of his heavy burden. He had to be exceptionally strong to lug her father up that ladder.
She wondered once again why he’d insisted on helping her.
Reaching the top, Evan heaved, partly dropping the body into the stall above. He then dragged it the rest of the way through and returned to her.
“Here,” he rasped, sounding out of breath. He handed her half the T-shirt. “Go over everything, no matter how minute you think it is, and wipe it clean. Everything, Elenore. Once you’re done and start up the ladder, I’ll put on Elijah’s boots and walk around in here to be sure it’s his boot prints they find down here and not ours.”
She accepted the cloth with numb fingers, her mind a jumble of scattered thoughts and feelings. “Okay.”
“It has to be done, Elenore. It’s the only choice you have. Our only other option is to burn the place, but the fire department will be called within minutes. It’s too risky. So, start wiping everything you see, including the steps of the ladder. We’ll just have to use the material to get rid of our prints on our way out.”
Elenore tucked her chin and spun to do Evan’s bidding. He knew what was best, whereas she couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought.
The two of them worked frantically to erase any evidence that they’d been in that dirt room until Elenore’s chills subsided, and she began to sweat.
She made her way toward the ladder, watching as Evan worked feverishly to remove their footprints and the marks from where he’d dragged Elijah’s tarped body.
He then donned Elijah’s boots and walked around the room before meeting her at the bottom of the ladder. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Elenore hurried up the ladder, using the cloth of the T-shirt to prevent leaving her fingerprints behind.
She made it to the stall where Elijah’s corpse lay before the tears began to surface once again.
No matter what Elijah had done to her or allowed others to do to her, he was her father, her flesh and blood. And she’d killed him.
“Don’t,” Evan wh
ispered, climbing into the stall and closing the hatch. He wiped the handle clean and covered it up with the hay strewn about. “He doesn’t deserve even one of your tears.”
Somewhere deep inside, Elenore knew that, but it didn’t make it any easier.
She raised her watery gaze to Evan. “He was all I had.”
Evan’s expression softened. “You have me, Elenore. And I will never do anything to hurt you. That’s a promise.”
Chapter Four
Evan pulled into the driveway of his apartment in Wexler a little after four o’clock in the morning.
He glanced over at Elenore’s sleeping form, noticing a smear of dirt along the side of her face.
With a sigh of exhaustion, he unbuckled his seatbelt, switched off the engine, and thought about everything that had transpired that night.
After loading Elijah’s corpse into the trunk of Evan’s car, he and Elenore had driven three hours to Atlanta to dispose of the body in a gator-infested swamp on the outskirts of town.
Evan recalled Elenore’s expression when he explained what was about to happen. The gators would feast on Elijah’s corpse and have him eaten before the sun came up.
She’d stumbled to the side of the car and vomited.
Due to her delicate condition, Evan had cranked the car and left her to sit in the air-conditioning while he stripped Elijah bare, dragged the body to the swamp, and tossed it in.
The gators were fighting over their new meal within minutes.
Evan had then dug a shallow hole and burned the tarp along with Elijah’s clothes and boots before covering the ashes left behind.
Elenore had fallen asleep on the drive home.
Touching her gently on the arm, Evan whispered, “Elenore?”
She stirred but didn’t wake.
He tried again. “Elenore?”
“Daddy?” she gasped, jerking awake, horror in her eyes.
Evan pulled his hand back. “Easy. It’s me, Evan.”
She stared at him through glassy eyes for what seemed an eternity before recognition set in. “Evan?”
“Yes, Elenore. I’m here.” It surprised him that she’d used his name instead of detective.
And then a thought occurred to him. “Where is your father’s truck?”
She didn’t move.
“Elenore, what did you do with Elijah’s truck?”
“I-I don’t know.”
That wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “Think, Elenore. We need to get it back to the house before daylight. Charlie will be out there to feed your animals.”
She turned away for a moment to stare out the windshield and then faced him once again. “I think I drove it out to the Maxwell’s farm and parked it in the woods.”
Evan cranked the car once more and backed out into the street. “You’re sure?”
“I’m not positive, but I vaguely remember being there and then walking home in the middle of the night.”
“How far is the Maxwell farm from your place?” he asked, heading toward the stop sign ahead.
“About two miles.”
Evan recalled a conversation he’d had with the sheriff about that very thing. He’d thought that Elijah was ridding himself of his victim’s vehicles within a two-mile vicinity of his farm, so he could walk back with no problems. Only it had been Elenore and not her father. “Point me in the right direction.”
“Turn left up ahead,” she whispered, once again rubbing at her upper arms.
“Once we get there,” Evan informed her, taking a left on the appropriate road, “you’ll have to drive the truck back to your house. I can’t risk them finding my prints anywhere on that vehicle.”
Elenore merely nodded.
Less than five minutes later, Evan pulled his car off the side of the road near the Maxwell farm. “You’re sure this is the spot?”
“I believe so.” She opened her door to get out.
“Wait,” Evan called, opening his door as well. “I’ll walk you to it.”
Elenore shook her head. “There’s no need. I know these woods better than the wildlife. I can go in alone.”
Evan glanced up and down the road, praying he wouldn’t be spotted by an oncoming car. No, he needed to get out of there, and quick. “Okay. I’ll go wait for you near your place. Park on the grass when you get there, so your footprints won’t appear leaving the truck.”
She didn’t answer, only disappeared into the woods and eventually from Evan’s view.
* * * *
Evan arrived at the Griffin farm less than ten minutes later. He parked along the edge of the road, careful not to get too close to the ditch. The last thing he needed was to get stuck.
Switching off the car lights, he waited impatiently for Elenore to arrive.
She didn’t disappoint. A little over five minutes later, Evan could see the headlights of Elijah’s truck easing up the road.
He watched with bated breath as Elenore pulled the truck up onto the grass in front of the house and got out.
She hurried across the yard, jumping the ditch as she went.
“Any problems?” Evan asked the second she climbed into the passenger seat and shut the door.
She shook her head. “There wasn’t anyone on the roads.”
He switched on the lights to the car, backed up, and pulled forward again before repeating the process.
Elenore glanced in his direction. “What are you doing?”
“Driving over your footprints. I’m not taking any chances.”
The sky was beginning to turn a pale pink color, signaling the sun’s morning ascent.
Evan put the car in drive and drove toward town. “We need to get back before sunrise. I don’t want anyone seeing you. At least for now.”
Elenore didn’t answer. Not that he expected her to. She’d never been very talkative. Of course, if Evan had lived through what Elenore had, he doubted he’d be too keen on communicating, either.
Chapter Five
The drive back to town was spent in complete silence, with Elenore staring blindly out the window.
She mentally questioned Evan’s motives for helping her and wondered how long it would be before he demanded something in return. And Elenore knew exactly what that demand would be. What it had always been. Sex.
She shuddered, wrapping her arms around her waist, while watching the trees fly past on the side of the road.
“Elenore?”
“Yes?” She kept her gaze on those trees.
Evan cleared his throat. “I’m going to have to work for a bit this morning. Which means that you’ll be alone until I return. Are you all right with that, or would you rather I call out?”
That brought her head around. “Are you worried I’ll steal from you?”
“No,” he quietly laughed, his gaze locked on the road ahead. “I’m just asking if you’ll be okay. Nothing more, nothing less.”
She nodded, then realized he probably didn’t see the gesture. “Yes. I’ll be okay alone.”
“Good.” He turned the car into his driveway and switched it off.
Elenore waited until he opened his door before following suit and exiting the vehicle behind him.
She watched him unlock the door to his apartment, and then she hesitantly stepped inside.
The place was neat as a pin, save for a basket of clothes perched on the couch.
“Make yourself at home,” Evan offered, closing the door. “There’s not a lot as far as food is concerned, but I have bread, sandwich meat, and chips in the kitchen. I’ll pick up some more stuff on my way home this evening.”
Elenore’s stomach picked that moment to growl.
An awkward silence descended, leaving Elenore to hug her waist once again.
Evan looked around the room, obviously nervous himself, and then moved toward an open doorway off to his left.
He stopped before walking through. “I know I’m not your size, but I have plenty of shorts and T-shirts in the dresser. You’re welcome to anythin
g I have.”
Elenore watched him disappear inside what she assumed to be his bedroom and then reemerge with an armful of clothes.
He chanced a glance in her direction. “I’m going to take a shower. Like I said, make yourself at home.”
Elenore wondered for the hundredth time why the detective would risk his job, his very freedom to help someone like her—someone who had no money, no education, and nothing but the clothes on her back.
She looked down at her attire, remembering they didn’t belong to her, either.
The second the bathroom door closed behind Evan, Elenore strayed into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator to study its contents.
A pack of ham rested on the top shelf, along with mayonnaise, mustard, a loaf of bread, and a gallon of milk.
Several cans of sodas lined the bottom shelf next to a half-eaten cheesecake.
Elenore wanted a piece of that cheesecake so badly she could taste it. She hadn’t had anything sweet since she’d dropped out of school in the tenth grade, nearly five years ago. Of course, she’d had no choice… She had been pregnant.
Not wanting to anger Evan by eating his cheesecake, Elenore reluctantly shut the refrigerator door and moved to sit on the couch.
She wasn’t sure how long she remained there when Evan emerged from his shower. His hair was wet, and his face appeared cleanly shaven.
He strode back to his bedroom and then returned with his gun holstered at his side. “I’ll try to check on you around noon, if I can. As I said, help yourself to anything you need. There’s some cheesecake I’d forgotten about. It’s in the fridge. It’s yours if you want it. I’ll bring home another when I get off work.”
With that, he eased to the front door, peering at her over his shoulder. “Please don’t go anywhere today. If you need anything that I don’t have, the phone is beside the bed in my room. I left my cell number lying next to it.”
“I won’t leave, Detective. I have nowhere to go.”
Something akin to pity flickered in his eyes but left so quickly she might have imagined it.
Elle Returns: The Sequel: A Psychological Thriller Page 2
