by Rita Herron
Melissa broke down into hysterical sobs, and Shondra pushed her hand away, clinging to the sheets in horror.
One Hundred Forty-Seven
Derrick rushed into the hospital, where he found Ellie standing beside Shondra’s bedside. The deputy looked in shock, bruised and battered, a young blonde sat slumped in the chair beside her, sobbing into her hands.
Ellie looked like hell herself. But at least she was alive, and the Weekday Killer was done.
Tears swam in Ellie’s eyes as she turned to him. “I know who the impostor therapist is,” she said quietly.
Derrick narrowed his eyes. “Who?”
The blonde looked up with a tormented expression, and Ellie cleared her throat. “Special Agent Fox, meet Melissa. She’s the woman who posed as Kennedy Sledge.”
Stunned, Derrick tried to assimilate what was going on.
“She claims Burton forced her,” Ellie explained.
This case just got more complicated. They’d have to take Melissa into custody, arrange for a psychologist to talk to her. Get to the truth. Either the woman was a great actress or she was telling the truth.
Heading over, he took Melissa’s arm. Shondra watched from the bed, shock, anger and confusion streaking her swollen face.
Ellie moved over to comfort her as he escorted Melissa from the room.
One Hundred Forty-Eight
Ellie called for a nurse, then soothed Shondra as best she could. It would take time to sort out Melissa’s story, to figure out whether she would be charged for the crime or treated as a victim. It would take even longer for Shondra to overcome the trauma of what she’d endured.
“You’re going to be okay,” Ellie murmured. “I’ll be here for you, Shondra.”
“I… loved her,” Shondra said softly. “I… thought we were a couple. We are––were––in love.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Ellie said. “Right now, you just need to rest.”
The nurse slipped in and gave Shondra a sedative to calm her, and Ellie sat beside her until she fell asleep. Wiping away tears, she returned to the waiting room. Her father was standing there, the grooves beside his eyes deep with worry.
“Honey, are you okay?” He rushed to her, starting to hug her, but Ellie stiffened. After everything, she couldn’t bear being touched right now.
“I will be,” Ellie said. She just needed time. “How’s Mom?”
“She’s refusing the surgery.”
“Why?”
“She seems to have lost the will to live.”
With a thud, Ellie realized she had to talk to her.
Derrick appeared, his jaw snapping tight as he took in the scene. He cleared his throat.
“Melissa is being admitted to the psych ward for evaluation. Deputy Landrum is going to stand guard.”
As Ellie thanked him, the sheriff strode in, his green eyes glittering with a myriad of emotions. He raked over Ellie with a grimace as he noted her injuries. Angelica Gomez and her cameraman were close behind.
Anger at Bryce railed through Ellie. Damn him for blabbing to Burton. She didn’t know if she could ever forgive him.
“How’s Deputy Eastwood?” he asked gruffly.
“She’s in a bad way, but she’s tough.” Ellie crossed her arms. “You told Burton about the therapist. That’s how he found out everything about his victims.”
A muscle ticked in Bryce’s jaw. “I’m sorry, Ellie. I am. I… didn’t know.”
She shook her head in disgust, walking past him. Burton would have found another way to get to her, but it galled her that the man who’d replaced her father as sheriff had fed a serial killer crucial information.
She’d never trust him again.
Angelica Gomez cornered her father. “Mr. Reeves, is it true that Detective Ellie Reeves is not your biological daughter? That you adopted her?”
Ellie pressed a hand to her mouth––so the truth was out. It could only have been a matter of time, she guessed.
“Ellie is my daughter,” he said gruffly. “That’s all anyone needs to know.”
Angelica didn’t miss a beat, sweeping across the room to Ellie.
Bryce stepped up to intervene, but Angelica elbowed him aside. “I want to hear from Detective Reeves.”
Ellie had been running from the press for weeks, hiding from her problems.
She was tired of running. Head high, and ignoring the pain in her body, she stepped over to make a statement. “Ms. Gomez,” Ellie said. “I can confirm that that information is correct. But my family’s personal life is not important. What is important is that we caught the Weekday Killer.”
Angelica’s eyes glimmered as she aimed the mic toward Ellie. “Please fill us in on the details, Detective.”
Running a hand over her disheveled hair, Ellie looked into the camera and described the hunt for Hugh Burton, and how it had ended with his death.
As her father slipped back down the hall to see her mother, Ellie decided to follow.
“I’ll let Special Agent Fox fill you in on the details,” she said. “Right now, I need to visit my mother.”
Her phone buzzed just as she reached the elevator. A quick glance revealed it was an unknown number, making the hair on the back of her neck prickle.
Her finger shook as she answered the call. “Detective Reeves.”
“Hey, Ellie.”
At the sound of Hiram’s voice, she went completely still.
“First you took Mama, and now Vinny,” he said in a low sinister voice. “You take everyone from me, don’t you?”
“You sent him to kill me.”
“Oh, he offered to do that for me,” Hiram said. “I have other followers now, Ellie. Friends who’ll do anything for me.”
One Hundred Forty-Nine
Rose Hill
Eula Ann stared at the image of Detective Ellie Reeves on the TV, her knitting needles clacking together furiously as she worked off her nerves.
There was something about that girl that got under her skin. Something about the way she tilted her head when she spoke, or was it the tiny little birthmark on her neck?
She hadn’t noticed it before. But when she’d pushed her hair back tonight, there it was. Three tiny little dots below her ear lobe. For a minute she thought they were freckles. And maybe they were.
But the pattern of them was odd. Like something she’d seen before. But no… it couldn’t be…
The storm had died down outside now, the wind settling into a calm.
She looked out at the emerging moon, and spotted the three crows on the power line silhouetted against it. Lord have mercy. Their beady eyes bore holes into her, a sign they knew what she’d done.
And that death was not done on the trail.
Ellie Reeves was doing her darned best to fight it, though. The bruises on her face and hands attested to the fact that she was tough.
But evil had a way of growing and feeding on itself. And Eula feared it would get Ellie in the end.
One Hundred Fifty
Bluff County Hospital
Ellie was still shaken from Hiram’s call as she entered her mother’s hospital room. Machines whined, and her mother’s breathing was so shallow that Ellie had to lean forward to tell she was alive.
A cold sweat beaded Ellie’s skin and she sucked in a breath. It hurt to look at her mother. Her parents’ betrayal had carved a deep wedge between them.
But Vera Reeves was still her mom. At least the only one she’d ever known. She’d tended her wounds when she was little, brought her tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, fed her ice cream when she had her tonsils removed.
For a brief second, she put herself in Vera’s shoes and her heart gave a pang.
She slowly approached the bed. She wasn’t sure she could forgive Vera just yet. But Burton’s comment taunted her. She could show her some grace. That, she could do.
The chair her father kept by her mother’s hospital bed still felt warm from where he’d been sitting vigil day and n
ight. Her mother lay still and pale, her eyes fluttering open as Ellie sank into the chair. Licking her dry lips, Ellie cradled her hand in hers and stroked it. “Mom?”
Vera’s chest rose and fell but she didn’t speak.
A memory surfaced in Ellie’s mind—she was five years old and had one of her many nightmares. Vera had come in and wrapped her in the quilt her grammy had made for her, rocking her and singing to her until she fell asleep. When she’d woken up the next morning, her mother was still there, holding her.
Tears blinded her, and she stroked Vera’s hair from her face.
“Mama, please don’t die,” she whispered.
Slowly, her mother opened her eyes and looked at Ellie. Tears swam in the deep brown depths, making Ellie’s chest clench.
“I want you to have the surgery,” Ellie murmured. “When you get better, I’ll take you to lunch and to get your hair done.”
Then she realized she must look a frightening mess––something her mother couldn’t stand. She probably should have gone home and showered.
Maybe she’d even get a trim herself. They could have a girls’ day.
Or maybe not.
“Ellie?”
“Yes, I’m here.” She squeezed her mother’s frail hand.
“I’m s-so sorry,” Vera whispered.
“I know,” Ellie said, her voice cracking. “We can work on things when you get better.”
Her mother squeezed her hand. “I’d like that, sweetheart.”
A sound behind her indicated her father was back. “El,” he said as he approached.
“I need to go home and clean up, but I’ll be back.” Ellie turned to leave, but her mother called for her to wait.
“Don’t go yet, Ellie.”
Ellie clamped her teeth over her bottom lip, returning to her mother’s bedside.
Her mother tugged her closer, then spoke in a low whisper. “An envelope, for you, in a safety deposit box.”
Ellie narrowed her eyes. “What?”
“There’s an envelope. In it, there’s the name of the social worker at the adoption agency we used.”
Ellie went still.
“Randall has the key.”
Stunned, she turned and faced her father. The key lay in the palm of his hand.
“It’s up to you if you want to pursue it.”
Ellie’s throat thickened, and she reached for the key with a shaky hand. Looking for her birth parents would be like opening Pandora’s box.
But could she go on without knowing?
If you were glued to the pages of Wildflower Graves, shocked by the twists and are longing for more gripping and thrilling action, sign up here to Rita’s newsletter and you won’t miss a thing! What happens next for Ellie Reeves? You won’t have to wait long to find out…
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The Silent Dolls
Silent tears trickle down her cheeks as she curls inside the tiny cave-like space. She lies on her side, darkness all around her, rubbing her fingers over the little wooden doll he’d carved. He told her to be quiet, not to cry or scream. Not to be a baby. Her throat was raw, her eyes swollen shut. She wanted her mommy and daddy. She wanted to go home.
When Penny Matthews, a seven-year-old girl with blonde curls and a gap-toothed smile, goes missing in the Appalachian mountains, Detective Ellie Reeves is called straight to the scene. According to Penny’s parents, their daughter vanished after a picnic by the creek. All that’s left behind is a pink friendship bracelet etched with “Penny”.
Ellie knows all too well that the mountains’ endless miles of dark forest and winding rivers are the perfect place for a criminal to hide. Racing against the rapidly setting sun and a brutal winter storm on the horizon, she searches desperately for Penny. And when she discovers the remains of a small body buried with a carved wooden doll, it’s clear she’s up against a deadly serial killer preying on innocent little girls.
As the temperature plunges, Penny’s life hangs in the balance. Most people who get lost in the woods never make it out alive. Can Ellie defy the odds and find out the truth about all the stolen girls? Or will the mountain, and its twisted killer, claim another victim?
A totally gripping and utterly addictive new crime-thriller series for readers who love Lisa Regan, Kendra Elliot and Melinda Leigh. Prepare to stay up way past your bedtime – but be warned: you’ll be scared to turn the lights off after you’ve raced through the pages.
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Books by Rita Herron
Detective Ellie Reeves
1. The Silent Dolls
2. Wildflower Graves
Available in audio
The Silent Dolls (available in the UK and the US)
A Letter from Rita
Thank you so much for diving back into the world I’ve created with Detective Ellie Reeves in Wildflower Graves! If you enjoyed Wildflower Graves and would like to keep up with my latest releases, you can sign up at the following link. Your email address will never be shared, and you can unsubscribe at any time.
Sign up here!
As a child, I grew up in the country with no library close by, but the Bookmobile, a mobile unit, brought books to our street, and I devoured as many as I could get my hands on. Fast forward to adulthood and my favorite pastime became browsing bookstores. I’m obsessed with the endless stories, authors, and settings that offer an escape into another world.
One day I stumbled upon a book about customs, stones, statues and symbolism associated with burial rituals. From there, the idea for Wildflower Graves was born!
Coupled with the raw wilderness of the Appalachian Trail and the folklore associated with the mountains (some of which is research-based and some totally my imagination!) the setting seemed ripe for a new serial killer.
I hope you enjoyed the second installment of Ellie’s journey and submerging yourself in her world as much as I did! If you liked Wildflower Graves, I’d appreciate it if you left a short review. As a writer, it means the world to me that you share your feedback with other readers who might be interested in Ellie’s adventures.
I love to hear from readers, so you can find me on Facebook, my website and Twitter.
Thanks so much for your support.
Happy Reading!
Rita
www.ritaherron.com
Acknowledgments
A huge thanks to Christina Demonsthenous and the entire Bookouture team for their support for the series. My mind often races in a dozen different directions and Christina has a way of tapping into the good that’s there and cutting the fat!
Again to my agent Jenny Bent and my fabulous critique partner Stephanie Bond for their unfailing support.
Another thanks to my sister, Reba Bales, licensed mental health counselor, for answering numerous questions regarding details of psychiatric therapy and treatment.
And I can’t forget my adorable husband Lee, who has always stood beside and behind me in whatever I wanted to do, even when he thinks I’m scary and strange. Love you to the moon and back!
Published by Bookouture in 2020
An imprint of Storyfire Ltd.
Carmelite House
50 Victoria Embankment
London EC4Y 0DZ
www.bookouture.com
Copyright © Rita Herron, 2020
Rita Herron has asserted her right to be identified
as the author of this work.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers.
eBook ISBN: 978-1-83888-986-9
This book is a work of fiction. Names, cha
racters, businesses, organizations, places and events other than those clearly in the public domain, are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.