“Then what am I?” she whispered, oddly detached.
Pity appeared in Evan’s eyes. “You’re a survivor. Nothing more. Do you understand that? You did what you had to do to survive.”
Elle didn’t want pity. Especially from Evan. If he had any idea that she’d killed again, he would probably take Sarah and run as far from her as he could get. Not that she blamed him. If she were in his shoes, she would do the same.
But Elle would never do anything to hurt Sarah. Nor Evan, for that matter.
Stilling her fidgeting fingers, she lifted her chin. “What happens now?”
Evan blew out a breath. “We wait. For what, I’m not sure. The sheriff informed me that the FBI would want to question us, which is why I asked you here.”
Elle took a step forward, her gaze searching Evan’s face. “Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
“They don’t know anything other than the fact that the area under that barn was wiped clean. They have Elijah’s boot prints. They’ve no reason to suspect you of ever being down there. And we’re going to keep it that way. Understood?”
“I— Yes, I understand.”
Evan nodded. “Good. Now, I have no idea when they will show up here. I only know that they will. That’s a given. They’re searching for Elijah, so they’ll want to question you extensively about him. You tell them everything you know. Everything, except having knowledge of that room beneath the barn. You didn’t know it was there, and you certainly have never been there.”
“What if they don’t believe me?”
“It doesn’t matter what they believe, Elenore. It only matters what they can prove. As long as you stick to your guns, tell them what they want to know about Elijah, you’ll be fine.”
Elle took a slow, deep breath through her nose and then straightened her shoulders. “I won’t let you down.”
A small indention appeared between his eyes. “You could never let me down, Elenore. Ever.”
Elle thought about Waylon Redding and Marlon Hurley currently residing in the digestive tracts of some of the local reptiles. Yeah, Evan wouldn’t be quite so understanding if he knew that little tidbit.
Brushing her thoughts aside, she gestured toward Evan’s legs. “Have the doctors said when you’ll be able to go home?”
Evan shook his head. “No, but a nurse informed me that they were trying to get me in a local rehab for therapy. Hopefully soon. I hate leaving you and Sarah alone. I mean, you didn’t ask for the responsibility of caring for my daughter, yet you do it without complaining.”
Elle shook her head. “I would never complain about caring for Sarah. She’s just an innocent child.”
Evan’s gaze softened. He stared back at her so long, Elle was beginning to grow uncomfortable. “Elenore? I lo—”
“Mr. Ramirez?” a nurse called, poking her head into the room without knocking. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had a visitor.”
Elle took a step back, looking away from Evan’s serious expression. “It’s fine. I was just leaving.”
Turning toward the door, Elle glanced at Evan over her shoulder. “I’ll see you soon.” And with that, she hurried from the room.
What had Evan been about to say? Elle didn’t know. Nor was she sure she wanted to know.
Chapter Fourteen
Elle watched Sarah eat her dinner like a child starved.
She smiled over at Evan’s daughter. “Slow down or you’ll choke.”
“I love macaroni and cheese,” Sarah answered, her mouth full of food. “Mommy used to make it for me.”
The sadness that settled over the table was tangible.
Tears formed in the little girl’s eyes. She lowered her fork to stare down at her plate of half-eaten food. “I want to see my mommy.”
Elle stood and eased around the table to kneel next to Sarah’s chair. “I know you do. But we can’t see her just yet.”
“Why?”
Why indeed? “Well, I think you should talk to your daddy about that. Your mother left you in his care. He’ll know what to do. In the meantime, I have a surprise for you, but you have to finish your dinner first.”
Sarah sniffled and lifted her red-rimmed gaze. She dragged her arm across her runny nose. “What is it?”
Elle smiled and glanced toward the refrigerator. “It’s chocolate. But you can’t tell Ida Mae. She might take a switch to me.”
A giggle burst from Sarah. “Ida Mae won’t spank you.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Elle whispered in a conspirator’s voice. She pushed to her feet. “She might if she finds out I didn’t buy her any chocolate.”
And just like that, Sarah went back to eating her macaroni and cheese. “She can have some of mine.”
Elle returned to her seat, humbled by Sarah’s words. So innocent and giving. The child was willing to half her treat with Ida Mae. “You’re a good girl, Sarah. We’ll take Mrs. Gordon some chocolate as soon as you’re finished with dinner.”
“Am I staying the night with her again?” Sarah asked around a mouth full of food.
Elle thought about Clyde Arlington and her plans for him. “Just for tonight.”
Though Sarah appeared disappointed, she didn’t argue.
“Tell you what,” Elle announced, watching the child’s expression closely. “I’ll come join you at Mrs. Gordon’s after I’m done visiting your dad at the hospital.”
Sarah’s face lit up. “You’re going to visit Daddy?”
“Yes,” Elle lied, gaining her feet once more. She moved to the fridge, retrieved the candy bar, and laid it next to Sarah’s plate.
“I’m going to get your overnight bag ready. No candy until you finish your dinner, okay?”
“Okay, Elle.”
* * * *
Elle removed her wedding ring and placed it in the top drawer of her dresser.
Clothed entirely in black, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail and glanced at the clock on her nightstand. It was just after midnight.
With Ida Mae’s pistol resting in her jacket pocket, she strode purposefully down the hall to the kitchen and took a stainless steel knife from a drawer next to the dishwasher. Stainless steel could be sanitized; wooden handles, not so much.
Tucking the knife into her boot, she stuffed a roll of duct tape into her free pocket, then exited the house by way of the kitchen door. She’d intentionally left the outside light off.
After pulling the hood of her jacket over her head, Elle struck out down the drive to the street beyond.
She carefully scanned her surroundings for signs of life, but nothing moved in the distance save for a stray cat in search of a garbage can to plunder.
The streetlights would make it impossible for Elle to simply march up to Clyde Arlington’s house unnoticed. Not to mention his front porch was probably lit up like Fort Knox, same as everyone else’s in the neighborhood. No, she had no intention of entering Clyde’s house by way of the front. She would come in from behind.
With her plan in place, Elle strode calmly down 8th Street, her gaze darting left to right.
After reaching the end, she took a left onto 9th and quietly slipped between the two homes that butted up against Clyde’s backyard.
It seemed as if an eternity passed with Elle standing in the shadows, her heart beating in her ears.
A dog barked in the distance, sending her already spiked anxiety through the roof.
Fear began to trickle in. What am I doing?
An image of Sarah sleeping soundly back at Ida Mae’s slipped through Elle’s mind. This pedophile, this monster, resided not three blocks over from where Sarah slept. Neither Evan’s daughter nor any of the rest of the neighboring children would ever be safe as long as Clyde Arlington drew breath. Well, he would draw his last tonight.
Chapter Fifteen
Elle stood outside in Arlington’s yard for more than twenty minutes, grateful for his well-manicured lawn. Thanks to Evan, Elle knew the importance of not leaving behind footprint
s. And there were no patches of sand that she could see.
Slipping quietly to the back porch, she reached up and unscrewed the bulb to the porch light enough to ensure it wouldn’t come on with the flip of a switch.
And then… She knocked on the door.
When no answer came, she knocked again, all the while glancing behind her to be sure no one saw her.
Footsteps could be heard from inside Arlington’s house. “Just a minute!”
Swallowing her fear, Elle gripped the handle of her pistol, noticing that her hand shook. In fact, her entire body did, but she pushed it from her mind. She had no place for fear in that moment.
The door was abruptly jerked open to reveal a very disheveled-looking Clyde Arlington, wearing a pair of speedos that had seen better days and a dingy, once white T-shirt. He reeked of stale cigarette smoke.
Narrowing his sleep-filled eyes, he growled, “What is it?”
Elle tugged the pistol free, flipped the safety off with her thumb, and cocked it. “Step back.”
Clyde’s otherwise swollen eyes grew huge in his face. He staggered back several steps, his thick jowls wobbling in terror.
Elle slipped inside, then shut and locked the door behind her. “Go to your bedroom. If you open your mouth even once, it’ll be the last move you ever make.”
The disgusting and beefy pedophile stumbled his way to the dining room, never once taking his gaze from Elle.
“Move,” she demanded, indicating the hallway behind him.
He hurried down the hall with Elle tight on his heels. “What do you want?”
She pulled the duct tape from her jacket pocket and followed him into his bedroom, grateful to see a four-poster bed resting in its center. “I told you to keep your mouth shut. Now, get on the bed and spread your arms and legs.”
He began pleading in earnest.
Elle pressed the barrel of the gun to the back of his head. “Do it.”
He scrambled onto the bed, his offensive odor nearly choking Elle.
“Spread your arms and legs like I told you to do.”
He did as she demanded, never taking his frantic gaze from the gun she held. “Please. Whatever it is you’re thinking of doing—”
“Shut up!” Elle proceeded to tape his ankles to the bedposts, grateful it wasn’t a big bed, else she would need to go in search of rope.
Securing his hands would be another matter.
And then a thought occurred to her. She glanced around the room, her gaze falling on a robe hanging on the closet door.
She quickly removed the sash, retrieved the knife from her boot, and cut the silky cloth in half.
“Put your left hand against the bedpost,” she bit out, moving to the top of the bed.
Ignoring his pleading looks, she tucked the knife back inside her boot, then secured first one then the other of his beefy wrists with the robe’s sash.
Now that she had him incapacitated, some of her own trembling subsided.
She stepped in close, her eyes narrowing in disdain, and ripped another piece of duct tape free. She slapped it over his mouth. “Do you know why I’ve come, Clyde Arlington?”
He shook his head, his tear-filled gaze glued to her face.
“No? Let me show you.” She reached into her jeans pocket and pulled the printout free.
Holding it up to the dim light coming from the hall bathroom, she turned it toward him. “Recognize the monster in this picture? How many kids have you hurt, Clyde?”
She began to read off the ages of the children listed within. “One count of sexual battery on a minor under the age of fifteen. Two counts of lewd and lascivious behavior on children under the age of twelve.” She continued reading, her voice rising to be heard over the crying sounds coming from the bed’s occupant. The more she read aloud, the sicker her stomach became until she stopped altogether. Clyde Arlington had served the bare minimum behind bars for his crimes.
Tossing the paper onto his stomach, Elle pulled the knife free once more. She would rid the world of Clyde Arlington’s disgusting presence and give his victims the justice they deserved.
Clyde began to fight against his bonds, the terror in his eyes filling the room, along with his nauseating scent.
Elle calmly slipped the pistol into her jacket pocket and moved in closer.
She brought the knife to his throat, holding her breath to prevent his body odor from assailing her further.
“Rot in Hell, Clyde Arlington.” She dragged the blade across his skin.
Two thin streams of blood instantly sprayed from his neck. His body stilled momentarily, as if frozen in shock. And then, he suddenly seized.
Elle backed up a step, unable to look away from his floundering form. Not that she felt any sympathy for him; she didn’t. Just as she doubted that he’d known any sympathy for the children he’d hurt. No, Clyde Arlington was getting exactly what he deserved.
Unsure of how long she stood there watching him die, Elle moved to the hall bathroom and washed the knife clean of the monster’s blood.
Clyde had finally stopped moving by the time she returned. The pedophile was dead.
Cutting the duct tape free of his ankles, Elle removed the piece from his mouth and untied his hands.
She dropped the sticky mess onto the bed next to his hip, satisfied that Clyde had suffered the maximum pain and horror before he’d died. She would have loved to have hurt him a bit more, but the risk of being discovered by one of the neighbors was far too high.
And speaking of being discovered, she thought, glancing at the lighter on his nightstand… She needed to destroy all evidence of what had gone down in Clyde’s bedroom and get out of there.
With Arlington being a smoker, it would be far too easy to make it appear as if he’d fallen asleep with a lit cigarette.
She plucked up the lighter and lit his bedspread. She then moved to the curtains on the right side of the room and caught those on fire as well. The rest of the house wasn’t important, only the bedroom where the murder took place. And it had been murder, plain and simple. No matter what he’d done to deserve it.
By the time Elle reached the other window, the bed Clyde lay on was almost fully engulfed, and the stench of burned flesh permeated the air.
Quickly igniting that curtain, Elle gagged from the smell. She put the lighter back on the nightstand and hurried from the room.
She raced down the hall to the back door, being sure to wipe her prints clean from the knob, and then slipped quietly outside.
No lights were on in the surrounding houses, which meant the fire had yet to draw attention.
Elle ran.
Chapter Sixteen
Elle arrived at Ida Mae’s approximately five minutes after leaving the scene of the crime. It had to be close to one in the morning.
She rapped on the back door and waited.
Ida Mae appeared less than a minute later, her sleepy eyes full of concern.
“Elle?” she whispered, pulling the door wide.
Not waiting for an invitation, Elle pushed past her to the safety of the kitchen. “Can I stay here tonight?”
“Of course you can.” Ida closed the door. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you okay?”
Elle could only nod, the reality of what she’d done finally setting in. “I-I need some water.”
Ida Mae’s all-knowing eyes assessed her. “I think you need something stronger than water. Sit down.”
Elle pulled out a chair at the table and dropped heavily into it. She waited quietly while Ida Mae poured her a shot of whiskey and handed it to her. She downed it in one swallow.
Ida poured her another, which she sucked down just as fast. The alcohol burned a path along her throat, soothing Elle’s stomach and calming her frayed nerves.
The sounds of sirens suddenly split the night, sending Elle’s anxiety into overdrive.
Ida Mae pulled out a chair and sat facing her late-night visitor. “What have you done, girl?”
When Elle just sat there staring at her, Ida jerked her chin toward the back door. “You show up here at one in the morning, looking for all the world like you ran all the way from Alabama without stopping, not five minutes ahead of those sirens. You’ve done something.”
Elle swallowed hard, her mouth opening several times without sound. And then, the words simply spilled forth unbidden. “I killed him. I cut his throat and watched him bleed out.”
Ida Mae’s eyes grew large. She held up a hand. “Wait a minute. You killed who?”
“Clyde Arlington.”
Pouring Elle another shot, Ida Mae ran a hand down her face. “Jesus, girl. What have you done?”
Indignation coupled with fear surfaced inside Elle. “What needed doing. God knows how many more kids he would have hurt. And Sarah… She— He could have hurt Sarah.”
“What do you mean? What other kids he could have hurt?”
Elle drank the other shot. “He was a pedophile. I looked him up on the internet.”
Ida Mae eyed her for another minute. “Where’s the gun?”
“I didn’t shoot him,” Elle protested, understanding where the elderly woman’s thoughts had taken her. “I cut his throat.”
Ida’s eyebrows shot up. “Then what’s with all the sirens barreling through the neighborhood?”
Elle shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I set his house on fire.”
“You what?” Ida surged to her feet with more gusto than her age should have allowed. “Were you seen by anyone?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so?” Moving to the living room, Ida Mae pulled back a curtain to peek out.
Elle followed, stopping next to the older woman. “I was careful not to be seen. I went through the back door. No other lights were on in the surrounding homes.”
Flames could be seen, rising high into the sky. Clyde Arlington’s house was fully engulfed.
Ida Mae let go of the curtain. “Where’s the knife you used to kill him with?”
Elle reached into her boot and tugged the knife free. “I rinsed it off in his bathroom sink.”
Elle Unleashed: A Gripping Psychological Thriller with a Twist Page 5