by Rita Herron
He maneuvered a series of switchbacks, alert for the truck in case the driver returned.
Beth finished the text, then pointed to a V in the road. “It’s that way.”
Ian maneuvered the turn easily, his gut tightening.
They had to hurry.
Anxiety gnawed at Beth. Soon she would be at the cave, back to that torture chamber where she’d been held like an animal, forced to beg for her life.
The sedan bounced over ruts in the dirt as Ian plowed along. The road that led into the woods was barely a road, more like a path that had been cut by a tractor.
She closed her eyes and tried to recall how the unsub had brought her and Sunny here.
She’d been unconscious. But she faintly remembered the rumble of an engine.
She’d stirred a few times, only to be slammed against the truck wall by the impact of a pothole. Then her head had spun and she’d passed out again.
Ian suddenly came to a halt. Tires ground the gravel.
Beth stared into the dark forest. Night creatures howled and an owl hooted. Leaves rustled.
“The road ends here.” Ian laid his hands on the steering wheel, frustration lining his face. “What do we do now?”
Beth climbed from the car. The wind chilled her, or maybe being close to the cave where Sunny had died was making her cold from the inside out.
The sound of water rippling over rocks broke the night. The river was close by. They needed to follow it.
She paused, another memory surfacing. Water dripping in the cave.
The pool where he’d baptized them.
It was some kind of springs the creek fed into.
She pivoted toward the sound. “This way. We have to hike in.”
“He carried you in on foot?”
Beth rubbed her temple again, snippets of the past returning in jarring bits. “He had some kind of wagon or board in the back of the truck. He used it to haul us.” She swallowed. “I remember being tied to it. Trying to claw my way to reach Sunny.”
Ian retrieved two flashlights from the sedan and handed her one. Determined, she forged ahead, using the flashlight to shine a path.
Their boots made crunching sounds on the dry leaves. A mountain lion growled somewhere in the distance. Other forest creatures darted through the weeds and brambles as if they thought she and Ian were hunting them.
A buck hesitated in the sliver of light from her flashlight and looked up at her, startled. She knew how the animal felt. Trapped. Always watching for a predator.
Using the trees and brush to camouflage their true colors just as she hid behind her job and gun.
It was the only place she’d ever felt safe.
Except she’d felt safe in Ian’s arms earlier. Safe and cared for.
He was just doing his job, she reminded herself as she stepped over a broken tree limb. Other branches had been flung down and shattered in the tornado.
She lost her way for a second, confused. Which way to go?
The dark sucked her in. The scent of marshy earth. The ripple of the water. The stench of . . . blood.
She pivoted toward the sound of the water. Follow the stream and it would lead them to the baptismal pool.
Follow the scent of blood that had permeated her soul for years and it would lead her to the evil one who’d destroyed her life.
Ian checked his watch. They’d been hiking for twenty minutes.
He hoped to hell Beth was right about this place. Occasionally she stopped and scanned the area as if she was lost.
Maybe she was—lost in the traumatic memories of her abduction and her friend’s murder.
She stumbled over a tree root, and he caught her arm. She might have hurt her ankle, but it hadn’t slowed her down. Once she’d heard that rippling water from the river and the creek, she’d taken off, shoving brush and branches aside as she followed the sound.
Ian imagined her at fifteen, how terrified she’d been.
They broke through a small clearing, and he stopped behind Beth, giving her space and time to think. Her eyes were dark with pain, haunted with the reality of what they might find, but she shifted to the left and led the way.
She was the strongest, most courageous woman he’d ever met.
A deer ran past, then another. So much beauty in the midst of the dark, thick foliage. So much danger for a girl alone with no one to guide her through life.
Beth came to a halt again. He inched closer to her, senses alert.
A cold breeze ruffled the leaves and brought with it the strong smell of earth.
And death.
Beth pointed to the cluster of rocks that resembled a cross.
He surveyed the area surrounding the rocks. More trees. A small clearing. A pool of water fed by the creek to the right.
He clenched his hands. This was the spot she’d talked about. Where the bastard had baptized the girls before he slit their wrists.
“He forced us to kneel before the cross while he prayed over us,” Beth said in a low whisper. “He said he was chosen to save us from a life of sin.”
Ian muttered a curse. He’d never understood psycho freaks who used religion as a justification to kill.
She started ahead, and he caught her arm and gestured for her to stay behind him. She might outrank him, but revisiting the place where she’d been held and seen her friend die was traumatic. He wanted to protect her. “Let me go in first.”
A myriad of emotions glittered in her eyes. Indecision, fear, resignation, determination.
Then a long-suffering sigh and a nod.
He eased forward, careful to keep his senses honed. So far, he didn’t detect anyone around. No wagon or board the unsub used to haul anyone in.
Maybe Beth was wrong. He might have used this cave long ago but found a new spot.
Behind Ian, Beth’s breathing brushed his neck. Choppy and uneven, it cut through the air, a reminder of her personal stake in this mess.
She gestured to a cluster of branches and limbs stacked in front of stone. He crossed to it, yanked the branches and limbs away, and tossed them into a pile.
A door was underneath.
Beth’s pain-filled gasp made him tense. He removed his gun and held it at the ready as he eased open the wooden door built into the opening. Had this once been some kind of mine?
The interior was so dark that he blinked to clear his vision. The rancid scent of death was overpowering. He yanked a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it over his mouth, then motioned for Beth to stay outside.
She shook her head no, determination hardening her expression.
He handed her the handkerchief and then directed the beam of light around the interior and listened. No sounds of anyone inside. No footsteps or voices. No one crying out for help.
Slowly he crept deeper into the cave. A hundred feet in he spotted another door.
He pushed it open, gun braced and ready to fire.
Beth gasped again. Ian pulled her to him to hide her from the grisly sight.
They were too late.
Prissy Carson was lying on the ground, tied and bound, her body still.
Her eyes wide open in death.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Beth stared at Prissy Carson in horror.
Just like the girls they’d found in the holler, she was dressed in a sheer white cotton dress that resembled a christening gown.
Bitterness blended with anger and guilt, and Beth broke down. The sobs that came from her were ripped from her soul.
This was so unfair. Prissy was so young. She should be alive, talking to her friends, planning her first school dance.
Ian’s curse reminded her that she wasn’t alone, and she swiped at her tears. Ian slowly knelt beside the girl and pressed two fingers to Prissy’s neck, checking for a pulse, although it was obvious she was dead. The candle in Prissy’s hand had burned down, the wax clumping on her fingers. Blood spatter dotted the floor.
“She’s in rigor,” Ian said, “bu
t she hasn’t been dead long.”
Self-hate hit Beth like a sledgehammer. If she’d been able to lead her FBI team and the police to this place sooner, they would have saved Prissy’s life.
An hour, maybe even minutes, could have made a difference.
She shined her flashlight across the interior of the cave, sickened at the swirls of blood on the wall. Religious symbols covered the stone, a cross, angels, a Bible verse.
Ian’s voice startled her. “Yes, Lieutenant Ward, send another crime team. We found the kill spot. Hopefully he left DNA somewhere in here.”
Ian gave him the coordinates, ended the call, and then examined the girl’s face for injuries. “Except for the fatal slash of her wrist, it doesn’t look like he tortured her or hurt her.”
“The mental torture was enough,” Beth said in disgust. Another memory rose from the grave of her mind. He dipped his fingers into Sunny’s blood and painted the outline of an angel on the wall.
“He used the girls’ blood to paint the symbols on the wall,” Beth said. “It’s part of his ritual.”
“I thought you said he collects their blood in a vial.”
Beth nodded. “He does both.” Another image flashed behind her eyes. The blood- spattered cloth he’d placed below the bodies. “He studies the blood spatter,” she said. “It intrigues him. He paints an image based on what he sees in the spatter.”
Beth snapped back into agent mode and took pictures of the symbols.
Using both hands, Ian pressed the wall, pushing along a portion that was cracked. The wall began to move—a door in the cave.
What was on the other side?
Beth’s statement about the killer studying the blood spatter ran through Ian’s mind as he stepped inside the room. The walls were covered in blood.
Blood from his victims.
A natural hot spring pool gurgled in the center.
“He uses that pool to baptize the girls,” Beth said in a distant voice, as if she were drowning in the past.
“I thought he did that outside,” Ian said.
Beth wrinkled her nose. “Maybe he uses both. The outside one in pretty weather, this one when it’s cold or snowy.”
“He baptized them here, then carried them to the holler to bury them,” Ian said.
Beth nodded. “Since we discovered his burial ground, he left Prissy here. That has to be bothering him.” Beth snapped more pictures of the gruesome scene. “He doesn’t know we found this place yet. He might return.”
Yeah, with another victim.
Beth heaved a weary sound. “I’ll have to let the director know we found Prissy and this place. We should station someone here to watch the cave.”
“I’ll do it.” Ian made the call but there was no answer, so he left a voice mail for the director. “CSU is on its way. Since this was his private kill spot, there’s a good chance the unsub left fingerprints or forensics.”
Beth examined the cross around the girl’s neck, then the cross on the wall. “There’s something about his art that seems familiar.”
“You saw him painting the symbols when he held you?” Ian asked.
Beth worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “Yes, but I’ve also seen similar paintings somewhere else.”
Ian froze, his brain working. He’d seen a painting that reminded him of this bloody artwork, too. Where was it?
His phone buzzed with a text. Ward and his team had arrived. “I’m going to meet Ward.”
“I’ll wait here.” Guilt and grief clouded her eyes. “I don’t want to leave Prissy alone.”
He understood. He hated to leave her, too, but they needed to work fast.
“I’ll be back soon.” He strode through the cave and out the door, grateful for the fresh air. The sooner they processed this place, the sooner they might find DNA and stop this maniac.
The smell of blood was fresh in his mind as he backtracked through the woods.
Twigs snapped. Leaves rustled. A wild animal howled. The wind picked up and hurled a tree branch to the ground.
He pivoted, the hair on the back of his neck prickling. Prissy’s body hadn’t been that cold. What if the unsub had been nearby when they arrived?
He shouldn’t have left Beth alone.
The cave walls closed in around Beth.
Remembering that she was a trained agent, she fought the temptation to run her fingers over some of the religious symbols painted on the wall.
She needed to protect the evidence.
The sound of Sunny’s cries reverberated off the walls. Then Prissy’s.
She sank down beside Prissy, her heart aching as she imagined how terrified the teenager must have been.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” Beth whispered. “We tried to find you in time. But we failed.”
Defeat and anger weighed on her.
The gurgling of the pool water carried her back years. Desperate to see the killer’s face, she closed her eyes and allowed the emotions and memories to flow through her.
Sunny was curled up beside her, crying. She looked so tiny and weak. JJ had to take care of her. Had to find a way out for both of them.
She swept her gaze across the cave, but it was so dark she couldn’t see. Just a tiny sliver of light seeping through a crack in the rock wall.
“I’m scared,” Sunny whispered.
So was she, but she had to be brave. Her hands and feet were bound, so she scooted as close as she could to Sunny and rubbed her arm with both hands. “Shh, I’ll get us out of here. I promise.”
“He’s gonna kill us,” Sunny whispered.
JJ shook her head. “No, I’ll get help.”
“How?” Sunny said on a sob. “We don’t know where we are.”
Tears pricked at JJ’s eyes, but she blinked them back, then tried to untie the knot at her wrist with her teeth.
Sunny was right. If they did find a way out of this dungeon, she had no idea where they were. Caves were in the mountains.
No telling how many miles they were from a town or a road.
Worse, bears and snakes and other wild animals roamed the hills. But if she could find the river, she could follow it.
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.
Footsteps pounding the rocky floor.
Then shuffling.
And voices.
Voices?
Not just the man’s. Another voice. Not quite as deep. Male. But . . . younger?
Someone was with him.
“Son, we are the chosen ones. This is our Calling.”
Cold fear enveloped JJ. He was coming back for her and Sunny. And he had a helper.
A scream lodged in her throat. Maybe the other one would save them.
She swallowed a cry and yanked at the ropes binding her wrists. But she couldn’t get the knot to budge.
“Give me your hands,” JJ whispered. If she could untie Sunny, Sunny could untie her. Then she’d find something in the cave to use as a weapon.
Sunny was shaking as she lifted her hands. JJ tugged at the ends.
The man’s voice drifted through the doorway. “They cannot help who they are. The sin is in their blood just as it was in hers.”
Who were they talking about?
“I’ll find a cure,” the younger man said.
“There is no cure,” the older man murmured. “Only forgiveness through Jesus.”
Fear choked JJ. The memory of Reverend Benton’s rantings screamed through her mind. He was always singing about the blood of Jesus.
The door squeaked as it opened. The big hulking figure appeared, drenched in the shadows. Then another figure, smaller, thinner, also in the dark.
JJ ripped at the rope with her fingernails, desperate. But the bigger figure loped toward her and Sunny. Sunny screamed, and Beth tried to cover her with her body.
He yanked her off Sunny and pushed JJ so hard she fell back against the rocky wall. Pain shot through her skull, and the world spun.
“Please let her go. Take me instead. She’s so littl
e.” The man ignored her and dragged Sunny across the floor. JJ crawled after him and clawed at his ankle. “Let her go!”
He kicked backward and slammed his foot into her face. Blood gushed from her nose.
The room went completely dark.
Beth jerked from the memory just as a footstep creaked. She peered around the cave. Something moved. A man.
“You remember me, JJ?”
Beth’s pulse quickened. The whisper of a breath puffed in the air. She tried to see him, but he knocked the flashlight on the ground, and it went out.
She scrambled to retrieve it, but he kicked it away.
She froze and reached for her weapon.
“JJ . . .”
The voice . . . it cut through the silence. Deep. Cold. Not a memory—he was here.
“Yes, show me your face.”
A dark chuckle boomeranged off the cold walls.
Beth pivoted toward the source and fired the gun. She missed, and the bullet pinged off the wall. She blinked to see where he’d gone, then suddenly he was on her.
A second later, the world turned upside down, and she slipped into the dark.
The sound of the gunshot triggered Ian’s worst fear.
He might have lost Beth.
“What the hell was that?” Lieutenant Ward asked.
Ian gestured toward the path through the woods. “Beth, she’s back at the cave.” Dammit, he’d had a bad feeling before he met up with the crime team.
He took off running, not bothering to wait for the two crime scene investigators climbing from their vehicle.
“We’re right behind you!” Ward shouted.
Ian drew his weapon and shoved at the branches and weeds, using his flashlight to guide him toward the cave.
Something moved to the right.
He paused, then spotted a deer. Dammit.
He picked up his pace, racing past fallen branches and listening for more gunfire, but he stayed alert in case he was running into a trap.
Finally, he reached the clearing. Then the cross-shaped rock formation. Brush moved to the right of the entrance.
Was Beth inside, or did he have her?
Ward raced up behind him.