E? Humph.
He started skimming through the mounds of paperwork when a stack of black and white photos caught his attention. He frowned, flipped through them, and realized they were taken from a street camera. Each photo showed a dark blue truck parked in front of an apartment building, with the license plate ending in XPG—Johnny Campos’s plate. The photos confirmed that Johnny was home on the night of Abby’s murder, and therefore, had nothing to do with it.
Why the hell hadn’t Deena told him?
Just then, Hunter popped his head in.
“Your phone was ringing.” He tossed the phone, and Zander caught it mid-air.
“Thanks.” He clicked it on—one missed call from Raven. He played the voicemail.
“Zander, hey, it’s Raven. Hey, how many numbers does a police badge have…”
He continued to rifle through the papers on Deena’s desk as he listened to her voicemail, but then froze.
“Do the numbers nine, three, two mean anything to…”
Nine, three, two.
His gaze landed on Deena’s police badge, lying on top of a folder.
932.
As her last word cut off, a loud banging vibrated through the receiver—like a phone tumbling to the ground.
CHAPTER 18
HER EYES OPENED to total darkness, and a wave of nausea swept over her. She squeezed her eyes shut. Her jaw throbbed with pain.
Her body was soaked in sweat, but she was shivering.
Where the hell was she?
Thud, thud.
Her body bounced up and down.
Another big bump, and her head hit on something.
Ice-cold terror sliced through her veins when she realized she was inside a trunk. The trunk of a car. She was gagged, and her hands and ankles were bound.
Her pulse skyrocketed as she tried to make sense of what was happening.
She replayed her last memory.
She was on the phone with Zander’s voicemail, and then a flash of movement from the side, followed by a burst of pain, then her world went black.
Holy shit.
How long had she been out? Where was she being taken to? Who the hell did this? She hadn’t seen her attacker's face, only a glimpse of the fist flying toward her.
Her stomach rolled as the realization began to sink in—it was the same person who put the stone on her bed. The same person who had been following her for God knows how long.
The same person who killed Abby Collier and Claire Banks.
Suddenly the car stopped, and the door opened and slammed shut.
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and pretended to still be passed out.
The trunk opened, and two large hands hoisted her into the air. The rain wet her back as she was carried, over the shoulder, by her captor, into the woods.
Her eyes darted around the dark landscape. She inhaled to scream—
“Don’t even fucking think about it. I’ll gut you right here.”
She could barely hear the low voice over the rain... but was that a woman's voice? No, it couldn't be.
The minutes dragged on. Her captor’s breath became labored.
Where the hell was she?
Suddenly, a familiar smell filled her nose—wet, moldy earth.
Hatchet Hollow.
She was tossed from the shoulder, and her body slammed against the cold cave floor. Pain rocketed through her head as the breath knocked out of her. She gasped for air and blinked, trying to see through the darkness. A cell phone light clicked on.
And then she saw her.
Officer Deena Malone.
932.
Her stomach curdled as she looked into Deena's wild, feral eyes. And as Deena began to wrap her hands around her throat, Raven released a scream that sliced through the night like an animal being skinned alive.
***
Zander sprinted down the station steps and jumped into his truck. He turned on his cell phone as he squealed out of the parking lot.
“Hunter here.”
“Hunter, I need you to go to Deena’s house immediately. Hold her there, and look for Raven Cane. Look for her car or any sign of her.”
“What the hell’s going on?”
Zander fishtailed around a corner, and horns blared around him. He punched the gas. “I think Deena might be our killer.”
“What?”
“Just go! Now!”
He tossed the phone on the passenger seat and gripped the steering wheel. The rain pounded his windshield as he drove dangerously fast on the slick, mountain roads. He turned on his high beams and clenched his jaw.
He couldn’t believe it. Deena—one of their own.
And Deena had Raven, he was sure of it. Now, he just had to find her before it was too late.
Panic had his heart feeling like it was about to burst through his chest as he skidded to a stop next to the Red Rock Trail sign.
He grabbed his gun and jumped out of the truck. The rain blinded him as he sprinted down the dark trail. He had nothing but his gut instinct guiding him, and it was screaming at him that Deena had taken Raven to the cave, to suffer the same fate as the two other women she’d so brutally assaulted and murdered.
He jogged through the thick brush, jumping over rocks, fallen logs, and puddles. His adrenaline surged as he pressed on, through the ink-black woods, with tunnel vision.
The terrain started to get rockier, and he knew he was close. He listened for any sounds, but could only hear the buzz of the rain around him.
All of a sudden, a spine-tingling scream echoed through the air.
He pushed to a sprint and jumped over the large rock that led to Hatchet Hollow, and leapt into the cave.
The dim glow of a cell phone illuminated Deena, hovering over Raven, with her hands around her neck.
Rage overcame him.
He lunged forward and with the strength that only comes from pure, raging adrenaline, he threw Deena off of Raven, and slammed her body into the cold cave wall. Deena pushed off the wall and swung at Zander. Zander dodged the blow, and before Deena could react, he shoved the barrel of his gun into her neck.
“Don’t fucking move.”
Deena spat blood on the ground as Zander yanked a pair of handcuffs from his belt. As he slapped them around her wrists, he noticed deep scratches down Deena’s arms. He had no doubt that those scratches were from Abby and Claire, fighting her as she strangled them to death.
As Deena grumbled and spat, Zander turned and fell to his knees beside Raven’s body. “Are you okay?”
Tears ran down her face. “Yes, yes.”
He leaned down and stroked her head, frantically looking her over. Emotions flooded his system. “I’m going to get you out of here. You’re okay. Okay? You’re going to be okay.”
After cutting her bonds, and tying Deena’s ankles together with the rope, Zander swooped down, picked Raven up, and carried her out of Hatchet Hollow.
CHAPTER 19
SAL WRAPPED HIS hands around the Styrofoam cup, gazing into the coffee that he hadn’t touched, and took a deep breath.
Zander glanced at the two-way mirror, then back at Sal, who was visibly emotional. Emotional to finally be able to tell the story that had been haunting him for two years.
Zander leaned forward as Sal continued, “I was just about to wrap up my hike when I decided to take a detour to my truck. I was tired, you know, from working at the shop all day.” He cleared his throat. “I came up on Hatchet Hollow and heard something inside. I thought it was a bear, actually, but… for whatever reason, something drew me to look inside.” He looked down, his body tensing. “And that’s when I saw it. Deena Malone, strangling Marsha Welch to death.”
The room fell silent. Sal’s hands began to tremble, and he pulled them down into his lap.
“It’s okay, Sal. I know this is tough. Do you want some water, or maybe to take a quick break?”
Sal shook his head. “Hell no, man. I want to get this out. I want to make sure
Deena Malone gets locked away for life.”
“Okay, then, keep going.”
Sal took a deep breath. “I ran into the cave and asked her what the hell she was doing, and she jumped up, startled, and then shoved a gun between my eyes.” He shook his head. “I should’ve… I should’ve fought her or something, but to be honest, I was in total shock. She asked if I knew who she was, and I said yes, and she told me that if I ever told anyone about what I saw that day, she’d frame me for Marsha’s murder, and make sure I never saw the light of day again. She said she could do that, easily, because she was a cop.” His jaw clenched. “The next fucking day, my house was broken into, and I knew… I just knew that it was her, taking something to plant in that damn cave. To frame me if I ever came forward.”
“The fabric.”
“Apparently so.”
***
Zander’s boots sank into the mud as he walked around Deena Malone’s backyard. It had been less than twenty-four hours since he’d arrested Deena, and the house was swarming with law enforcement. He’d called in every resource imaginable to help look for evidence. They’d already found an old, empty bottle of chloroform, which had been recorded stolen from the station two years ago. The same chloroform that had been used to knock out Marsha Welch.
The four inches of rain they’d gotten the night before had done a number on the yard, but Zander was determined to check every inch of Deena’s property, so they wouldn't miss a thing.
The late afternoon sun peeked through the grey clouds that insisted on sticking around. A warm breeze swept past him as he slowly walked to the edge of the property line, scanning every inch of the ground, looking for anything that might help lock Deena up for life.
Just then, Hunter walked up. “Stone, I think you’re going to want to see this.”
He looked up.
“We found a bloody hatchet in the garage... and a damn shrine of Eric Stevens in her bedroom.”
Three hours later, Zander sat across from Chief of Police Mason Moretti and the district attorney, Conroy Donovan.
Stacks of papers covered the desk.
Moretti blew out a breath and leaned forward. “Folks, what we’ve got here is a psychotic, obsessed woman who can't let go.” He looked at Zander. “Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, let’s recap for Donovan.” He took a deep breath. “Let's begin with the Marsha Welch homicide. First, I should say that most of this information was obtained through Deena’s personal laptop, through a personal email account, where she communicated frequently. When she ran security for the state capitol building, her phone doubled as a work phone, so she did most of her personal communication via email. All the emails we’re going to talk about are included in these papers, but I’ll give you the cliffs notes.”
Donovan nodded, and Moretti continued, “According to the email account found on Deena’s laptop, she and our buddy Eric Stevens met at the capitol building over two years ago, and over the course of the following few months they struck up a relationship—
Zander cut in. “Aside from the shrine we found in her house, there’s a picture on her desk where she’s wearing the letter E around her neck—for Eric. She became totally obsessed with him.”
“To say the least. She drove to Devil’s Den several times to meet with him. Wrote him love poems, sent him romantic e-cards, pictures—that will forever be burned into my brain." He shivered. "As the long-distance relationship progressed, she surprised him by quitting her job and putting a down payment on a house here in Devil’s Den, for them to live in together. She'd already submitted her damn application here at the station. After she told him this, he got freaked the hell out. Big argument.”
"Chick's got balls."
"Understatement of the century, man."
Moretti nodded and continued, “So regardless of the argument, she packs up, moves here and per the email chain, on her first night here, they get into another massive fight. Eric goes to a bar where he meets some random chick—but never mentions her name—who he gets drunk with, takes to his truck, and makes out with.”
“Who's the chick?"
"Marsha Welch."
"How do you know it was her?”
Zander crossed his arms over his chest. "On a hunch, I went to every damn hole-in-the-wall bar in the area where a lonely guy might go after a fight with his old lady. I looked through the security footage at each bar for the date range of the emails, and bingo—found him and Marsha Welch cozied up at the Demon's Dungeon, right outside of town.”
“Damn you’re good.”
Moretti leaned back. “The next day, he officially breaks it off with Deena. He confesses and dumps her. Said everything was happening too fast. Told her to stay away from him, his apartment, everything. Told her she was just was too intense for him—his words exactly. This was the last email he’d sent her.” He picked up the papers, shuffled through them. “To say she was pissed in an understatement. She called him one hundred and three times over the next few days.”
“Psycho.”
“Yep, and then, thanks to Sal's confession we know that she goes to the trail—possibly had been stalking Marsha at this point—and kills the woman who she blames for the end of she and Eric's relationship. Then alters the autopsy report to throw off the investigation.”
Donovan shook his head. "Where the hell is Eric now? Why didn't he feel the need to bring this up two years ago when Marsha was murdered? Did he know Deena killed her?"
"Eric's in interview room one, barely talking at the advisement of his lawyer. He's shocked. Says he didn't know Deena did it. Says he didn't tell us about the hook up with Marsha at the time because he thought it was irrelevant. And honestly, I think he was a little freaked out. Didn't want to be associated with it."
Donovan nodded. "Okay so we've got Sal's eye-witness account, the empty bottle of chloroform, the psycho emails, the security footage, and the proof that Deena altered Marsha's autopsy report to throw you off. This is good."
Moretti nodded. “Now fast-forward two years later to Abby. This is where we go to the phone records. There had been no communication between Deena and Eric since their last email two years ago, until four days ago when Deena ran into Eric, who was flirting with Abby at the gym, where she works. Deena texted him and went nuts, especially when Eric called her a nut-job and said he was going to ask Abby out.”
"Snarky guy."
"Later that day, Eric leaves for a business trip, and Deena goes back to the gym, casually strikes up a conversation with Abby and invites her to go to the trail the next day. We have this on camera."
Donovan leaned forward. “And Abby took the bait.”
Zander shook his head. “Bitch punched her, knocked her out, and took her to the cave, where she woke up, fought Deena—scratched her. And thanks to Deena's recent training at the Academy, she knew to cut off Abby's fingers to conceal the evidence.”
Just then, Hunter walked in and tossed a handful of black and white photos on the chief’s desk. The grainy pictures showed a woman carrying someone through the woods. “I just got these. They’re still-shots from one of my buddy’s game cameras. That’s Deena, with Abby Collier over her shoulder, less than two yards from Hatchet Hollow, obviously walking that way.” He pointed to the timestamp at the bottom of the photo. “On the exact day and time she was estimated to be murdered.”
Zander picked up the pictures, passed them around the room.
Donovan flipped through him. “There's your smoking gun, guys.”
The room fell silent for a moment. In deep thought, Moretti said, “Is there any connection here to the witchcraft Abby had been studying?”
Zander shook his head. “Not that I can tell. Seems she just decided to take a different path in life.”
Moretti frowned. “Bad luck comes to those who study the darkness, boys. I don’t believe that’s a coincidence.” He looked at Zander. “What about the book she mentioned in her note? The Great Sha
dow Book of Secrets?”
“It’s not in her house, her car, or anywhere we looked. Assuming that it exists, of course.”
“Do we know who was converting her?”
“No, sir.”
“Someone did, no doubt about it. I know her family, and I knew her when she was little. No way in hell she just woke up and decided to become a witch, Zander. Someone got in her head.” Pause. “We need to figure out who the hell it was.”
“Yes, sir.”
The chief shifted in his chair. “Still no leads on Marden Balik’s whereabouts?”
Zander clenched his jaw. “No. Nothing at all.”
“Find her. Figure out if she’s the one spreading propaganda. And Zander, if that damn curse-book does exist, find it, too. It needs to be burned to ashes.”
“Yes, sir.”
Donovan scooted to the edge of his seat. “Okay, so what about Claire Banks?”
“Claire was an unfortunate causality of this love triangle. She uncovered the truth, and died for it.” Zander shuffled through the papers and pointed to a highlighted group of texts. “We don't think Deena knew about Claire and Eric's secret fling. Apparently, Deena and Claire were friendly. Claire texted Deena last week about getting some security cameras for her shop. The night after Deena killed Abby, she invited Claire over to look at her equipment." He paused. “The thing Claire saw that she referred to in the voicemail to Raven was the damn bloody hatchet in the garage. And after she heard about Abby’s murder the next day, she put two and two together and confronted Deena about it. That was the argument that Eric Stevens told us about. The argument Claire had that day, was with Deena.”
Moretti nodded. “And then Claire was scared out of her mind, and eventually called Raven Cane, to confess.”
“But it was too late. Deena had been watching her, plotting her take-down."
“As she had been watching Raven, too, when she started poking around the case.”
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