The Burning Girls: A completely gripping crime thriller packed with heart-pounding twists (Detective Ellie Reeves Book 3)

by Rita Herron

  But he was coming back. He’d promised her he would. That he’d make her death short and quick just like he did the others.

  How would her daughter handle that? Would she ever recover from her mother’s brutal death?

  She closed her eyes to stem the tears, but they spilled over and she began to sob. She’d cried the day she’d realized she was pregnant. Hadn’t known what she would do. Her grandmother was old and could hardly get around. Her sister was off at college doing her own thing.

  She hadn’t been prepared to be a mother. She’d even thought about giving her up for adoption. Hadn’t even told the baby’s father.

  But the moment the nurse had laid that pink, wrinkled, six-pound squirming infant in her arms she’d fallen in love with her. And she’d known she’d do whatever it took to take care of her.

  Another sob wrenched her gut. Like a movie trailer, memories of her daughter growing up flitted through her mind. The day she’d said Mama. The first footstep when she’d learned to walk. The sweet giggles when she tickled her belly.

  The Christmas she’d given her child her first soccer ball. They’d kicked and dribbled and played all day together.

  But mistakes had been made. She’d failed so many times.

  Just like last night. Regret for losing her temper clogged her throat. There were so many things she wished she’d said to her daughter.

  She didn’t even hug her goodbye last night. Now she’d never get to hug her again.

  41

  Crooked Creek Police Station

  Meddlin’ Maude and her hen club, which included Bryce’s mother Edwina, were gathered outside the police station as Ellie parked. Silently cursing, she stowed her phone in her pocket and climbed out, already sweating. Tourists and locals were filling the park and sidewalks, a line had formed outside the bakery, and window washers were cleaning the storefronts to spruce the town up for the Fourth of July.

  The sheriff’s car was nowhere in sight. Dammit. He would have been able to gracefully take care of his mother. Her captain and Deputy Landrum’s cars were already here, but they were probably tucked inside, avoiding the flack Maude was ready to dish out.

  “Hello, ladies,” she said. “If you’re here for the meeting about the Fourth, I believe it’s being held at the library.” She prayed that was the reason for the visit.

  Maude threw her shoulders back, her straw hat tilting sideways on her head. Let the clucking begin. “No, we’ve been discussing that news report you gave,” the woman said, her voice shrill. “Ever since you started working in Crooked Creek, we’ve had nothing but murders.”

  Ellie crossed her arms and looked at the other ladies who fidgeted nervously. “And you believe that’s my fault?”

  “You brought trouble to us, and you know it. You and your family. I don’t know why you just don’t leave town and let the sheriff run this county.” She gestured toward Edwina. “At least he’s from a respectable family.”

  “Maude,” said Ellie, struggling for compassion and stamping down her anger. “I realize that you’re still grieving, and I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what it’s been like for your family losing Honey Victoria like that.”

  “No, you can’t,” Maude said, dabbing at her eyes with a delicate handkerchief. “And she wouldn’t have died if you’d done your job.” The woman pointed her finger at Ellie. “Now another young girl has been killed in this town. Are you going to let her murderer go on a killing spree and slaughter more of our children?”

  Ellie felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Maude had no idea how haunted she was by the faces of the young women who’d died. “I’m going to forgive your animosity as I know you’re hurting,” she said. “And I don’t intend to let the person who killed Katie Lee get away. Now, unless you have helpful information about Katie Lee’s death, please move so I can go to work and get justice for her.”

  She brushed past Maude, slipped through the door and closed it firmly behind her. Her breathing burst out in erratic pants as she leaned against the wall, closing her eyes.

  But she couldn’t banish the images of the burned bodies or Maude’s hateful words. Because deep down inside, she was afraid the woman was right.

  42

  Stony Gap

  Mandy was mad as hell at her mother. But she was sweating like a pig, and her soccer ball needed air, so she opened the garage door to get the pump.

  Her mother’s car sat inside.

  She gaped at it for a minute, confused. If her mother hadn’t come home, why was her car here? Had she come home then left with someone else?

  A seed of worry sprouted inside her, and she ran back inside and looked around the kitchen. A wine glass sat on the counter. Dirty.

  Her mother often had a drink before bedtime. She said she was wound up when she got home and it helped her sleep. Fumbling with her phone, Mandy called her mom and heard the faint sound of it ringing from somewhere. She searched the kitchen counter, the table, then the couch, where sometimes it fell between the cushions. It was nowhere.

  The ringing was so faint she could barely hear it. She ran to her mother’s room and listened. She checked the nightstand then the bed covers but couldn’t see it.

  Stooping, she looked underneath the bed and raked her hand around. Her fingers touched the cool surface. That was it. Pulling the phone out, she saw the battery was almost dead.

  Then a spark of something red caught her eye. Droplets, crimson colored.

  Blood.

  Her heart jumped to her throat. She looked around the room again, then noticed the clothes her mother had worn to work had been tossed on the chair in the corner. Her shoes lay beneath the chair, and her purse… was right there.

  Fear took root, immobilizing her. The blood drew Mandy’s gaze again and she spotted a small spatter on the wall near the floor by the bed.

  There were all sorts of weirdos who flocked to the bars, the booze bringing out their meanness. Her mom had told her that.

  A tremble started deep inside her. Had one of them followed her home and done something to her?

  43

  Death’s Door

  He hoisted her limp body over his shoulder and began the long hike to the top of the ridge. Even though it was daytime, the cover of the trees cast the area in darkness, perfect for the privacy he needed. He swatted at bugs, sweat soaking his shirt and dripping down his neck between his shoulder blades.

  But sweat could leave DNA, so he’d wrapped her in a cotton sheet that he’d brought with him, then plastic. Her arms swung down by his sides, her legs dangling like a rag doll as he walked for miles and miles, hovering in the shadows of the thick trees whenever he heard another hiker or group nearby.

  Keeping watch, he waded through the creek to climb the steep incline. Dry, brittle grass, pine straw and brush crackled beneath his feet just like the embers of a fire.

  Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

  The creek was so low it had almost dried up, dead fish washing to shore and creating a stench. Flies and mosquitos buzzed above the carcasses, and vultures glided above. He carried the woman over tree stumps and piles of dried weeds and bramble until he reached the top of the ridge.

  “This place is called Death’s Door,” he whispered to his victim. Locals claimed many had killed themselves by hanging from the trees, which remained stubbornly bare all year long.

  It was the perfect place to leave her body.

  Slowly, he lowered the woman to the parched soil, smiling at the way her head lolled to the side. She slowly roused as he removed the rope from his bag and began to wind it around her slender pale throat.

  “Ticktock, Ticktock,” he murmured. The sands of time were slipping away…

  Her eyes slid open, big dark orbs in her oval face, her skin almost translucent beneath the sliver of moonlight peeking through the bare branches of the surrounding pines. Confusion blurred her eyes, fear seeping into them as she struggled to regain consciousness.

  He wound the rope in a noo
se, then lifted her head, her chestnut hair falling around her shoulders as he secured the noose around her neck. She opened her mouth in a scream, but no sound came out.

  Securing the other end of the rope around the pine nearest the ridge edge, he tightened it, then returned to gather her in his arms. All the ways he’d imagined taking a life played through his mind, challenging him to make each kill unique.

  “Shh, it’ll be over soon,” he murmured as he glanced at his watch. Ticktock, ticktock. The clock struck the hour.

  It was time. He threw her over the edge and watched her flail and kick, her silent scream lost in the air as the rope cut into her throat and snapped her vocal cords.

  Tension coiled inside him as he realized what he’d done, and the urges hit him swift and hard. He wasn’t finished yet. He needed to hear the flick of the match, see the flames spark to life.

  Quickly he cut the rope, watching her body fall to the ground below. Adrenaline heated his blood, and he scurried down the slope, skidding to a stop as he reached her lifeless body.

  His fingers itched. A vein jumped in his neck. His breath quickened.

  The scent of smoke along the trail lived within him just as it curled toward the summer sky.

  Excitement built as he drew a circle in the dirt around the woman, finding stones and stacking them around her. He gathered dry sticks from the woods and used them as kindling, then removed the matchbook and struck a match. His pulse raced as he held it up in front of his eyes and watched the perfect glow of the flame as it flickered against the cloudy sky.

  The rippling sound made his body hum, and he was mesmerized as the kindling burst into flames.

  Once the circle of fire was complete, the calm began to wash over him. Still, he watched the fire spread, glowing off her ashen face, and trickling over to snatch her hair, the flames shooting up all around her.

  44

  Crooked Creek

  Ellie pulled herself away from the door as Captain Hale shouted her name. He was rushing toward her, his cheeks ruddy, his hands waving.

  “What is it?” she asked, shaking off the unsettling conversation with Meddlin’ Maude.

  “You have to get over to Vanessa Morely’s house. Her daughter just called, hysterical. She thinks something happened to her mother.”

  Ellie’s stomach sank. She’d just seen Vanessa and Mandy arguing a couple of days before at the Corner Café. “Why does she think that?”

  “Said her mother worked late last night and when Mandy got up this morning, her mother wasn’t in bed. A while ago, she realized Vanessa’s car, purse and phone were at the house.”

  “Maybe she went for a walk or a run,” Ellie suggested, grappling for some other answer than foul play.

  Captain Hale shook his head and popped a mint in his mouth, chomping and cracking the candy vigorously. “She said there was blood. I want you to go talk to her.”

  “But the case—”

  “This could be related,” he said, his eyes wide.

  She didn’t see how. Katie Lee and Vanessa were years apart. “She works at Haints, the sheriff’s favorite watering hole,” Ellie said.

  “Don’t I know it? I called him earlier and he sounded hungover. I left a message for him to get over here and handle Maude and that bunch of busybodies outside.”

  “You know Bryce’s mother is with them?”

  Hale nodded. “I called the mayor, too. Told him to get his wife and her friends under control. They may think they’re helping by putting pressure on the department, but they’re doing more harm than good, inciting anger and distrust. I don’t intend to put up with their bullshit.”

  Ellie agreed, although the mayor had power and she knew her boss was walking a fine line. If he got fired, she might be next.

  “I’ll get out to the Morelys’,” Ellie said. “Have Heath keep digging into that church. Maybe Bryce can talk to the people at the bar. See if anything strange went down last night.”

  45

  Somewhere on the AT

  Twenty-nine-year-old Sarah Houston had thought the night would never end. Sleeping on the ground in the middle of the wilderness with mosquitos and flies nipping at her had kept her tossing and turning long into the lonely evening.

  She shouldn’t have been lonely though, not with her boyfriend beside her. Except he’d lapsed into one of his strange moods and shut down, folding within himself, setting her nerves on edge.

  Last night, while Ryder Rigdon had lain snoring like a bear, she’d envisioned a different life. A life where she was planning her wedding. Her biological clock had been ticking for three years and she’d finally decided to get serious about husband hunting and stop falling for every sad sack that walked into her life with his sob story. She always saw the potential though, she always thought she could fix them.

  Although with Ryder, she’d noticed a few warning signs. Sometimes he disappeared for a few days, he had a short fuse and was addicted to his damn smartwatch. But she’d dismissed them because he was a tall drink of water. He also volunteered at an animal shelter, where she saw his soft side come out. The moment when she’d seen him tend to a sick Lab, she’d fallen hard.

  Last night she’d thought he’d brought her to the Lazy River Falls for a romantic night. But he’d crashed as soon as his body hit the sleeping bag, and she’d been left to sweat and fume until she’d finally taken a sleeping pill and passed out. When she’d awakened, he looked as if he’d been up for hours and insisted on hiking through the smoky mountains. They’d been at it for hours.

  “Maybe we should head back,” she said as the smell of burning vegetation grew stronger.

  Ignoring her, Ryder slashed at weeds with his hunting knife and increased his pace until she was almost running between the massive trees to keep up with him. Was he trying to lose her?

  Her breathing grew labored, her ankle throbbing as he veered onto a path pocked with briars.

  Ahead, flames shot upward. “There’s a fire!” she shouted to Ryder, who was several feet away.

  But he disappeared over the crest of the hill as if mesmerized by the flames. Terrified and afraid she’d get lost if she turned back on her own, she followed. The charcoal-gray smoke was growing thicker by the minute, the scent of burning lumber and brush clogging her lungs.

  Ryder suddenly halted, and she nearly ran into him. From the top of the ridge, she looked down and saw a charred body in the midst of the flames. River stones had been arranged in a circular pattern around the body, the tallest ones pointing to the heavens as white ashes fluttered around them.

  46

  Stony Gap

  Dread made Ellie’s belly clench. Vanessa’s white clapboard house needed a fresh coat of paint, although impatiens and marigolds added pops of color to the tiny yard and drab exterior.

  A dried wreath decorated the front door and a fern that needed watering hung from the overhang of the stoop.

  Memories tickled her conscience. In first grade, Vanessa’s family had moved to Crooked Creek. Vanessa had been quiet and awkward, and for the first time since Ellie had been traumatized by being lost in the woods, she’d formed a friendship, someone other than Mae, her imaginary friend. They’d swung together, side by side in the playground, and made playhouses in the forest. They’d climbed trees and lain in the grass behind her house and looked up at the clouds, talking about the shapes and animals they saw in the sky.

  Praying this call was nothing more than a teenager with an overactive imagination, she climbed from her Jeep and followed the graveled drive to the front door. The door swung open before she could knock and a teary-eyed Mandy faced her, the fear on her face wrenching Ellie’s gut.

  “My mom, something happened,” she cried. “You have to find her.”

  Ellie hoped the girl was wrong. Gently she took Mandy’s arms and rubbed them. “Hey, Mandy, I’m here to help. Let’s go inside.”

  “But it’s my fault,” Mandy gulped. “I had a fight with her last night and she went to work and I don�
��t know where she is.”

  “Nothing is your fault,” Ellie said as she ushered her through the foyer. “And we don’t know what happened yet. But I need you to try to calm down and talk to me. Okay?”

  Mandy’s already tear-stricken face reddened more as she rubbed at her eyes. Ellie caught sight of a photograph of the mother and daughter on the wall. Vanessa was still petite and had grown up to be an attractive woman, although she looked weathered by life. Her wavy auburn hair curled around her shoulders, highlighting her porcelain skin and a smile that broadened her face as she looked down at her teenage daughter. They shared the same skin tone and hair, with a sprinkling of freckles on their noses.

  “Let’s sit down and you can explain what happened.”

  Ellie handed the girl a napkin from the table and they seated themselves. Mandy was shaking so hard that it took her several minutes to catch her breath.

  “I know you’re worried and upset, honey, but talk to me.”

  Fear streaked the young girl’s eyes. “We watched the news. You were on it,” she said, her voice catching. “Talking about that girl who died.”

  “Yes, that was me,” Ellie said softly. “Did you or your mother know Katie Lee?”

  “I know who she is,” Mandy said. “But we’re not friends or anything. Anyway, Mama freaked over it. She had to go to work the last couple of nights, but each time she ordered me to stay home and then last night I yelled at her and she left.” Another sob escaped her.