Ellie frowned at his clipped tone. He was definitely in an odd mood. But she didn’t have time to dwell on it now. Bonnie needed her.
Derrick stood, his look hooded as he headed to the door. “See you tomorrow.”
She grabbed her bag and coat and decided to go home herself. If Derrick was right, they weren’t just investigating Bonnie’s murder.
They might be looking for a serial killer.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Green Gardens Cemetery
Kat paced her bedroom for an hour, waiting until the living room grew quiet. Daddy wouldn’t be home tonight. That was fine with her. Mama would tell him about her short skirt and he’d get mad and yell at her and… it wouldn’t go well.
She peeked out the door and saw the lights flicker off downstairs which meant her mama was going to bed. Pulse pounding, she waited another twenty minutes, tugged on her jacket, boots and ski cap, then slipped down the hall.
On the way out, she grabbed a flashlight and tiptoed out the back door, closing it slowly so it wouldn’t make a sound.
Seconds later, she stared into the night then snuck through the woods. Grabbing one of the shovels for protection as she passed her daddy’s shed, she used the flashlight to illuminate the way toward the graveyard. A faint sprinkling of stars flickered through the darkness, the thin limbs of the pines waving like crooked arms trying to grab her.
Twigs snapped as a branch broke off, and she paused and studied the dark abyss of land that stretched for miles and miles. “Don’t you dare go in those woods,” Mama always warned.
“It’s too dangerous for young girls,” Daddy said. “People say Ruth Higgins’ body is out there somewhere.”
Suddenly a shadow moved in the distance. The silhouette caught in a sliver of moonlight then disappeared. Brush rattled as the figure ran away from the graveyard. The temptation to follow whoever it was hit her so strongly that she gave chase. Wind gusts tore at the trees and a branch flew off in front of her. A noise sounded behind her and the woods blurred. The man, at least she thought it was a man, got lost in the shadows. Which way had he gone?
Brush crackled as she neared the tree where she’d seen him. Footsteps crunched brush and weeds shifted. She sensed movement and spun around.
Suddenly out of nowhere something struck her on the side of the head.
She stumbled and fell, flailing and clawing at the ground. Pine needles stabbed at her hands and she tasted dirt. Her breath panted out, but she pushed up to her hands and knees and saw boots running away.
Blood trickled down the side of her neck. She swiped at it and looked up, blinking to clear her vision. But he was gone.
Her heart pounded. She hadn’t seen his face. Had he seen hers?
THIRTY-EIGHT
River’s Edge
Worry gnawed at Cord as he drove home and let himself inside his cabin on the river. Normally the sound of the water rushing over the rocks in the back of his property calmed him. But tonight his insides were twisted into knots.
Fox was back.
Dammit.
He’d figured the agent would return at some point. Maybe even make a play for Ellie.
Perspiration broke out on the back of his neck.
Hell, that’s the least of your concerns.
He walked to his closet, opened his safe and studied the contents. The pocket watch was still there. Cracked, the face shattered just like it had been during the struggle that night fifteen years ago. He’d searched for it then, but it had been so dark and stormy he hadn’t found it. He’d also been young and stupid and hadn’t covered his tracks.
But now he had. It was evidence and he should turn it in. He was betraying Ellie by keeping it here. Better she not knowthough or she’d be forced to do the right thing and investigate. The truth might not matter. It would be tainted with lies.
But Fox was a top-notch FBI agent with resources beyond the Crooked Creek police department’s. If he started nosing around, if the Sylvester girl’s death was related to the Ruth Higgins case, then he might dig up the truth.
See that Cord had crossed the line.
