All the Beautiful Brides

by Rita Herron

  “I know you have questions,” Anna said. “And that you may have felt abandoned when you discovered you were adopted.”

  Mona didn’t respond. She had felt those things, natural emotions for an adopted child. “I had a good family, though,” she said. “I loved my parents, and they loved me. They took good care of me, Anna.”

  A mixture of sadness and relief lined Anna’s face. “I’m glad they were good to you and loved you. I prayed for that every day.” She tucked a strand of Mona’s hair behind her ear. “There wasn’t a moment that went by that I didn’t think of you and wonder what you were doing, what you looked like, how big you were.” She wiped at a tear, and Josie squeezed her mother’s arm. “I wrote you letters all the time. And I bought a card for every birthday and holiday and wrote in it. I . . . just never sent them.”

  Mona’s heart tugged painfully, and they hugged again.

  When they pulled away this time, Anna smiled. “Now, tell us about your life, where you grew up, how you liked school.” She clasped Mona’s hand in one of hers and Josie’s in the other. “I want to know everything.”

  “I want to know everything about you, too.” Mona smiled. “And about you, Josie.”

  Mona poured them each a glass of wine, turned on the gas logs in the fireplace, then retrieved the photo albums she’d kept from her childhood and set them on the coffee table.

  Then the three of them huddled by the fire and traded stories long into the night, replacing the horror of the evening with new memories of becoming a family.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  TWO DAYS LATER

  Mona, Anna, and Josie sat in the courtroom, tense but a unified front, their bond obvious as they watched Cal produce the evidence they’d uncovered.

  “Charlene’s love letters are filled with her obsession over Johnny. We also found notes she kept detailing her father’s abuse and her plans to make Johnny suffer for rejecting her. She lured her victims to the falls by sending them notes supposedly from Johnny, saying he wanted a romantic rendezvous. In the original trial, these notes helped convict Pike, but handwriting analysis proves that Charlene Linder wrote them.” Cal paused. “She admitted this in her letters, then described how each girl cried and begged for her life just before she killed them.”

  Johnny Pike sat stone still, his shoulders square, yet Cal noticed the twitch in his jaw. He still didn’t believe he was going to be freed.

  “The photos in the box found beneath Pike’s bed were also planted. We found identical copies of those pictures, along with the camera used to take them, in Charlene’s house. Her fingerprints were the only ones on the camera. There were additional photographs of the girls there as well, graphic ones showing them on their knees begging to be saved.” Disgust knotted Cal’s stomach, but at least now justice was done. “Charlene was also in possession of the jewelry she kept from the victims as souvenirs. We have tagged and identified each piece and submitted it all into evidence.”

  The judge nodded, his expression grave.

  “She also lied to the police about Pike attacking her. That false report was crucial in convincing the sheriff that Pike was guilty.”

  The judge clutched his gavel. “Is that it?”

  “Not quite,” Cal said, then turned to Johnny. “After Mr. Pike’s arrest, Charlene told him she was pregnant with his child and she threatened Anna. When the evidence became stacked against Pike, he finally gave in to a plea bargain to avoid the death penalty and to protect Anna.”

  Pike fidgeted and looked down at his scarred hands.

  “Charlene Linder was extremely devious and manipulative, and Pike was a victim.” Cal addressed the judge directly. “There’s something else. Apparently her father molested her. He forced her to bite down on a rose when he was assaulting her so no one would hear her cries.”

  He paused. “Charlene’s mother blamed Charlene for the abuse. She hacked off her daughter’s hair in an attempt to make her look less attractive to her father. In turn, Charlene cut her victims’ hair to make them look less attractive to Johnny. We also have conclusive evidence confirming that she lied to Pike about the baby.” He glanced at Mona, Anna, and Josie. “Charlene was pregnant, but the child was not Johnny Pike’s. DNA proves the baby was her father’s.”

  A shocked, hushed whisper reverberated from everyone present.

  Pike swung his gaze toward Anna, his look full of sorrow and regret.

  The judge pounded his gavel. “Under the circumstances and in light of the new evidence presented today, I am officially overturning the murder conviction against you, Mr. Pike. On behalf of the court and legal system, I apologize for your false incarceration. All charges against you will be expunged. While I realize you have a right to be angry, and there’s no possible way to make up for the time you’ve lost, I hope you’ll try to look forward to the future.” He pounded the gavel again. “You are free to go.”

  Johnny stood in shock, but Anna shrieked, ran toward him, and threw her arms around him.

  “You’re free, Johnny,” she whispered.

  “I can’t believe it.” Johnny turned to Cal. “I’m really free?”

  “Yes, you are.” Cal extended his hand. “Your name is cleared, and you can walk out of here today.”

  Anna kissed him, then eased away as Mona approached. “Now there’s someone I want you to meet.”

  Cal stepped back to give Mona and Anna some space. Anna clasped Mona’s hand and coaxed her forward. The moment Johnny and Mona looked at each other, emotions clouded both of their faces.

  “Johnny, this is Mona,” Anna said softly. “She’s your daughter.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Johnny said in a hoarse voice. “I . . . we missed so much.”

  A tear trickled down Mona’s cheek as Johnny opened his arms and she hugged him.

  Mona couldn’t believe all that had happened in the past two days. The previous night Anna had retrieved the letters and cards she’d written Mona over the years and given them to Mona.

  As she’d read them, she’d realized how much her mother had loved her, and how difficult it had been for Anna to give her up.

  She also knew how much Anna loved Johnny.

  Mona’s father.

  “I didn’t know,” Johnny said, his voice thick.

  “I didn’t either.” Mona wiped at a tear.

  “I’m so sorry,” Johnny said. “If I’d known—”

  “That’s my fault,” Anna said. “I shouldn’t have listened to my father. I should have told you about the baby.”

  Mona took Anna’s hand, then Johnny’s, and smiled. “At least we’re together now.”

  Johnny looked at Mona and then Josie, his face riddled with emotion. “I don’t have much to offer, but I love your mother with all my heart. I always have. And I hope you’ll both let me try to be a father to you. Or at least, a friend.”

  “I’d like that,” Josie said without hesitation.

  “I’d like that, too,” Mona said softly.

  Anna and Johnny hugged and drew Mona and Josie into their arms. Mona’s heart soared with happiness. Cal had done this—he’d protected her and solved the Bride Killer and the Thorn Ripper cases, and brought her family back to her.

  Only when she turned to thank him, he was gone.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  THREE WEEKS LATER

  Mona and her new family had spent almost every minute together for the last three weeks, sharing stories and getting to know each other.

  Today it would be official. Anna and Johnny were getting married.

  “It’s time,” Josie said as she clasped Mona’s hand, and they rushed to the dressing room at the small church where Anna and Johnny had decided to exchange their vows.

  The town had been shocked to learn Johnny had been framed, saddened at the miscarriage of justice, and relieved the Bride Killer had been caught. The
residents of Graveyard Falls were safe again.

  Johnny hopefully would be awarded some monetary compensation from the state, but that would take time. Mona had given up the radio talk show, needing time to process all that had happened.

  She and Josie slipped into their places as bridesmaids.

  Anna’s father, Mona’s grandfather, wasn’t invited. He had moved into an assisted living home. Anna was still struggling to forgive her father for his likely part in Johnny’s arrest and for shaming her into giving up Mona.

  Mona smiled as the piano music began, and she and Josie walked down the aisle. When Anna and Johnny joined hands and exchanged vows, thirty years overdue, tears trickled down her face.

  She’d never been as happy as she was at that moment.

  Except one thing was missing from her life.

  Cal.

  She had fallen in love with him when she’d first met him, and they had wasted so much time. But she didn’t know if he wanted her now. She hadn’t heard from him since the court hearing to clear her father.

  Just like she hadn’t heard from him after Brent died.

  “I pronounce you man and wife,” the reverend said.

  Johnny cradled Anna’s face between his shaking hands and kissed her with all the love he’d harbored for her for years. Mona and Josie clapped and hugged and congratulated their mother and Johnny.

  Mona’s heart ached to have the kind of true love they had found.

  Cal watched the ceremony from the back of the church, his heart hammering. He had left Graveyard Falls to give Mona and her new family time to assimilate and adjust to everything that had happened.

  All he wanted was for Mona to be happy.

  Liar.

  He wanted Mona.

  He wanted to hold her and love her for the rest of his life.

  He wanted to make her his wife.

  But . . . did she love him? Could she forgive him for keeping Brent’s dirty secret?

  Should he give her more time?

  The kiss ended, and Mona pivoted to face the rear of the church. When she saw him, surprise lit her eyes, and a small smile tugged at her lips.

  Enough to give him hope.

  He forced himself to wait while she and Josie exited, then Anna and Johnny strolled down the aisle, grinning and kissing, their joy contagious. The few friends who’d shown up followed, and Cal took a deep breath and stepped from the church.

  The moment he saw Mona, though, his heart started beating so fast he could hardly breathe. Once, he’d stepped away because of Brent, but that had been a mistake.

  He loved Mona. He always had. He should have fought for her.

  He would now.

  The wind shook snow from the branches of the trees, the mountains postcard perfect with the ridges dotted in white. Although the snow was starting to melt and the trees were budding. Spring was finally coming.

  But it was Mona who looked ethereal as he strode toward her. Anna and Johnny hurried toward their limo, and Cal jogged down the steps to Mona, afraid she might leave before he had a chance to finally confess that he loved her.

  Mona felt a snowflake dampen her cheek, or maybe it was her tears from seeing how happy Anna and Johnny were. They were finally getting to start a life together, the life they’d been robbed of by a cold-blooded killer.

  Then suddenly she felt a light touch on her arm and Cal was there. He looked so handsome in his black suit jacket that her heart stuttered.

  “I thought you’d left town,” she said, her voice quivering slightly.

  “I had, but Anna sent me an invitation.”

  “They wouldn’t be together if it weren’t for you.”

  “I was just doing my job.”

  Mona tensed. “Is that all you were doing?”

  Cal’s eyes glittered with emotions she couldn’t quite define. He was always so intense. Had been devoted to Brent. Had made love to her and held her and comforted her when she needed him.

  “No.” Cal took her hands. “I’m in love with you, Mona. I always have been. I just . . . I thought I owed Brent. He saved my life more than once when we were in foster care together.”

  Mona’s look softened.

  “But I paid my debt a long time ago. And I . . . I was wrong to not tell you how I felt.” He inhaled sharply. “I’m sorry for that, for keeping things from you. If you’ll give me a chance to love you, I’ll never let you down again.”

  Mona’s heart raced. “I love you, too, Cal. I always will.”

  A sultry smile curved his mouth, and he pulled her into his arms. “Good, because I’m never letting you go.”

  Her heart shouted with happiness as he closed his mouth over hers and kissed her.

  Anna and Johnny had wasted so much time by keeping secrets, just as she and Cal had.

  Now they wouldn’t waste another minute because nothing would ever keep them apart again.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  A big thank-you to my developmental editor, Lindsay Guzzardo, who always knows how to take my rough draft and turn it into a better book. Also thanks to the Montlake author team and my editors Maria and Irene for their fabulous support. And to Diane for catching all my mistakes!

  Also a big thank-you to my fantastic sister, Reba, who works as a counselor in a state prison, for answering all my questions!

  CHAPTER ONE

  The dead girl stared up at Special Agent Dane Hamrick, her eyes wide with terror, her lips forming a cry for help that had probably gotten lost in the wind boomeranging off the sharp mountain ridges.

  Her naked body lay in a tangle of weeds and brush in a ditch, one hand outstretched as if begging for help. The whites of her eyes bulged with broken vessels and had yellowed like an egg that had been cracked, the yolk spilling out.

  Even more disturbing, tiny slits had been carved beneath her eyes, more tracking down her pale face like the claw marks of a bird of prey’s talons etched in snow.

  But it was the tears that got to him. They had dried, but stained with the blood, they created a crimson river down her cheeks.

  Sheriff Kimball stooped to examine the body. “Special Agent Cal Coulter said I should call you. That you might have worked a similar case.”

  Dane shrugged. He worked with Cal at the Bureau. Cal knew Dane’s history. “Maybe. Do you know who she is?”

  The sheriff gestured toward the thick woods behind the motel. “Not yet. I didn’t find any ID on her, but I haven’t done a thorough search of the area yet. The janitor at the motel found her when he took out the trash, but the clerk at the front desk said she wasn’t registered as a guest.”

  The stench of garbage suffused the air. The fact that this woman had been left near the Dumpster could be significant. They’d canvass the people registered at the motel. One of them could be the killer.

  Or hell, the motel was off the highway, so the killer could have been a stranger passing through.

  “She probably died from the stab wound to her chest,” Sheriff Kimball said. “The ME is on his way.”

  Betsy had died from a stab wound to the heart as well. For a moment, the woman’s face faded, and in its place Dane saw his younger sister. Betsy at twelve with the freckles sprinkled across her nose and that infectious giggle and those green eyes that always twinkled. Betsy, who’d driven him crazy with her silly jokes and pleas to take her with him everywhere he went.

  At nineteen, she’d been innocent and sweet and excited about her future.

  She’d looked up to him and depended on him to protect her.

  But he’d failed and some maniac had stolen that future from her.

  Just like this woman’s had been stolen from her.

  Ten years without justice ate at him like a cancer destroying his soul.

  Storm clouds darkened the sky, casting an ominous gray over the scene. Dead leaves swi
rled around the woman’s feet, the wind whistling through the spiny trees. It had been storming the day Betsy died, too.

  He rolled his hands into fists. Finding the truth forced him to drag his ass out of bed every day and go to work when some days he wanted to bury himself in a bottle—or in the ground beside his sister—because his heart had an aching, empty hole that could never be repaired.

  Dane had joined the task force assigned to track down the most wanted criminals in the States along with Cal, hoping to have access to any case that might lead back to Betsy’s killer.

  This was the closest he’d seen yet. Cause of death appeared to be the same.

  Still, there were differences. The cuts on this victim’s face had been carved by a sharp instrument. Either a scalpel or some kind of sculpting tool. They were precise, detailed, as if the killer was experienced and knew exactly what he was doing.

  In his sister’s case, the cuts had been crude, emotional, angry. Personal. Almost a crime of passion.

  And they’d been made by a common pocketknife.

  The murders were probably not related.

  Although in ten years, the killer could have evolved, perfected his technique. Learned to be patient.

  Either way, this woman was someone’s daughter, maybe sister. And friend. They would want answers. Closure.

  To see the sick person who’d done this pay.

  He’d find her killer and get justice for her.

  He wouldn’t stop until he got it for Betsy, too.

  “Yes, I was held hostage by a serial killer.” Josie DuKane still had nightmares about that horrible time. But she schooled her emotions as she addressed the crowd in front of the city hall in the small town of Graveyard Falls.

  Sad to say that that terrifying experience had inspired her to write a true crime novel. And now, to her surprise, a production company had decided to film a movie about the town and the murders.