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

by Rita Herron

  Derrick grabbed a cup of coffee while the forensic psychiatrist evaluated Rigdon.

  His phone buzzed with a call from Ellie.

  “Derrick,” she said, her voice breaking as if they had a bad connection. “I have information. I tracked Dr. Hangar to Eula Ann Frampton. She admitted that her husband Ernie assaulted women in that sleep study, and for decades before it.”

  “And she covered for him?” Derrick bit out.

  “No. When she discovered what he’d been doing, she intended to tell the police. They fought, he attacked her and she killed him.”

  “How do you know she’s telling the truth?”

  “Because I just do,” Ellie’s voice quivered. “I saw his grave.”

  “If he’s dead, who’s covering it up now?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe the other doctor, Hoyt. Angelica left a message for me to meet her in town. Maybe she uncovered something.”

  “Hoyt is here now, but he lawyered up. I’ll use this to push him to talk.” He set the coffee on the table. “Are you bringing Ms. Frampton in for booking?”

  A tense heartbeat passed. “I thought we could talk about that. There were extenuating circumstances. It was self-defense.”

  Derrick took a breath. Ellie hadn’t been one to cross the line professionally. He’d just have to trust her.

  “Okay. We’ll discuss it later.”

  They agreed to stay in touch, and he left the office to interrogate the doctor again.

  Hoyt’s lawyer was seated with him, the two of them in deep conversation.

  Striding in, Derrick seated himself across from them, anger hardening his tone. “Dr. Hoyt, I’ve just learned something very interesting.”

  The doctor glanced nervously at his lawyer.

  “I have a witness that confirms that Dr. Hangar, who you worked with on the clinical trials for your sleeping pill, Z, sexually assaulted several women during the course of the study.” Derrick laid the photographs of the recent victims on the table again. “We now know that Janie Huntington was herself a rape victim. In the cases of Katie Lee Curtis and Vanessa Morely, the victims were their mothers. Indeed, their mothers were attacked by the same man. Gillian Roach was a social worker who worked with young women, including sexual assault survivors. She worked with Janie Huntington, Agnes Curtis, and Wanda Morely, Vanessa Morely’s mother. We believe she was murdered because she had recognized a link between these women and other adoptions she’d handled.”

  Hoyt’s breath quickened, and he shifted restlessly. “If Dr. Hangar assaulted them, I knew nothing about it.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” Derrick said coldly. “It was your sleeping pill. You worked with him to organize the study.”

  Plastic crinkled noisily as Hoyt’s fingers dug into the water bottle Derrick had left him. “Listen, I supplied the sleep medication but the staff there handled the actual study. I simply analyzed the data they collected.”

  The lawyer cleared his throat. “It seems Dr. Hangar is the man you should be questioning, not my client.”

  Derrick narrowed his eyes. “I would like to do that, but unfortunately that’s impossible. Dr. Hangar is dead and has been for years.”

  Hoyt’s eyes widened in shock, and the lawyer squared his shoulders.

  “You see why I have a problem. We believe these women were murdered to cover up what happened during that sleep study and its links to earlier cases. And with Dr. Hangar dead, that means someone else is cleaning up the mess.”

  “I… you can’t think it’s me,” Hoyt stuttered.

  “Be quiet,” the lawyer snapped at Hoyt. He addressed Derrick, “My client has already stated his innocence. Now, if that’s all?”

  “No, it’s not. I think you knew exactly what Hangar did and you let it slide because you wanted to make money off that drug. Hangar might have been a rapist, but he was a great research partner, right? The assaulted women were casualties, and now they’re collateral damage. Besides,” Derick continued when the lawyer started to protest again, “you’re lying about simply supplying the drug. You conducted your own studies, experiments on men. I have a witness who claims he experienced hallucinations while restrained.”

  “I have alibis,” Hoyt protested.

  The lawyer placed a hand on Hoyt’s arm. “I told you to be quiet.”

  Fear flashed in Hoyt’s eyes. “But I do. Give me a piece of paper and I’ll write down where I was and who I was with during the times those ladies died.”

  “You may well have alibis,” Derrick said, earning a glare from the attorney, “but if you knew what Hangar was doing, you’re responsible and you’re going to jail. And that’s before we dig deeper into the later trials on men.”

  “I didn’t know,” Hoyt shouted. “I swear I didn’t. There were other docs at that research facility. Maybe one of them did.”

  “I want names. Names of anyone who worked with your drug at that stage, even if it was at another clinic.” He leaned forward, eyes glaring. “And don’t leave anyone off that list.”

  137

  Ellie had rung Angelica repeatedly, but there was no answer. It wasn’t like the reporter to miss a call or a chance for a good story, so her senses were on high alert. She was claustrophobic just looking at the crowd lined up for the parade. Slowly, she began to weave toward the center stage, where the press would be set up to highlight the festivities.

  Main Street and several side streets had been roped off for the parade route, the sidewalks filled with excited children, locals and tourists. Balloons bobbed up and down, between flags, streamers and other decorations. People were decked out in Fourth of July T-shirts and hats, some waving party favors and banners.

  Mayor Waters’s voice boomed on the speakers from the stage as he introduced his wife.

  “It’s time to crown our Little Miss Bluff County and Miss Teen Bluff County,” Mrs. Waters said.

  Ellie glanced at the stage as she veered around a group of spectators and saw five little girls prancing on stage wearing frilly dresses and bows in their hair. Vera had always wanted Ellie to dress and look like that, but she’d never gotten her wish.

  Mrs. Waters announced each child, and applause sounded. “While all our contestants are worthy of the title, our committee had to make a choice. Our runner-up for Little Miss Bluff County is Sadie Simpson.” More applause, then Sadie was draped with a big ribbon. “And this year’s winner is Lily Whiting.” The little girl’s mother squealed while Mrs. Waters crowned the child.

  Ellie tuned out the crowning of Miss Teen Bluff County, although she didn’t miss seeing Bryce puffing up his chest as he joined his mother on stage to make the announcement.

  As soon as the pageant finished, the high school band began playing and shouts echoed from the crowd.

  Another stage in the square had been set up for the musical guests, Fiddlin’ and Pickin’, and for the Mountain Laurel cloggers to perform later.

  Meddlin’ Maude and the ladies from the garden club were setting up the baked goods table for the cake walk. Even Lola at the Corner Café had a booth with iced coffee, pies and funnel cakes.

  As the band marched down Main Street, she scanned the sidewalks and stages in search of Angelica. Instead, she saw Max Weatherby in full firefighter’s gear on a float with his squad. He was too far away to ask if he’d seen Angelica, but her cameraman, Tom, stood on the sidelines filming the parade, so she made her way toward him.

  In spite of a serial killer stalking the trail, the overpowering heat and the storm clouds looming, everyone was in full celebratory mode. Someone bumped her as the boy scouts and girl scouts tossed candy from their floats and kids scrambled to snatch it.

  She finally reached the cameraman, but Angelica wasn’t beside him.

  She nudged his arm. “Tom, have you seen Angelica? She left a message asking me to meet her here. Said she had something important to tell me.”

  The crewman ran a hand through his wiry hair. “I don’t know where she is. We started to set
up, but then she just disappeared.”

  “What do you mean, disappeared?”

  His brows bunched together as he frowned. “I was getting the camera equipment from the back of the van, but when I turned around, she was gone.”

  Ellie’s heart thundered.

  138

  “It’s not like Angelica to ditch a story,” Tom said. “Even if the parade wasn’t top of her list. I wanted to look for her, but my boss would lose her mind if I didn’t get at least some parade footage. That’ll do it, though.” He lowered the camera and led Ellie back to the news van.

  Ellie scanned the area and saw drag marks in the dirt, leading to the park. “Do you have any idea what she wanted to tell me?”

  “Are you kidding?” He harumphed. “I just follow her around. She doesn’t tell anyone what she’s working on until she has something good.”

  That was what made her a good reporter and earned trust from informants.

  “Look back at the footage you’ve taken so far. See if you spot her or someone suspicious.”

  Ellie let Derrick and her boss know about Angelica, and Captain Hale responded immediately that he’d get Sheriff Waters’s deputies looking for her.

  Even from a distance, she saw Bryce waving to the crowd from the stage as if he was the big hero in town. Through the speakers, Mayor Waters’s wife Edwina was announcing that Preston Phelps, the author of the book Mind Games, had left signed copies at Books & Bites, the local bookstore.

  After booking Josiah Curtis and Ike Jones, Deputy Landrum was now working security, so Ellie called him. Static echoed, blending with the crowd noise as he answered.

  Ellie quickly explained what had happened. “Keep an eye out for Angelica and start canvassing the crowd to see if anyone saw her.”

  “On it,” he said.

  Ellie hung up, pulled up a photograph of Angelica from her phone, then rushed from one person to the next asking if anyone had seen her. Remembering that Angelica wanted an interview with the author of that book, she navigated her way through the throng of people. The bookstore was pretty deserted except for Winnie Bates, the owner, who was arranging copies of the book on a display table.

  “Hey, Winnie, have you seen that reporter Angelica Gomez? She was trying to get an interview with Preston Phelps.”

  Winnie toyed with the silver hoop earrings dangling to her shoulders. “She hasn’t been in here. And that author never showed either. Called and said he was sorry but he wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t come.” She pursed her lips.

  “Okay, thanks.”

  The clock on the wall ticked away the hour, and she hurried back outside. If Angelica had been abducted by the unsub, she might not have long to live.

  Pulling her flashlight, she shined it into the store windows as she raced along the sidewalks. Most of them were locked up and dark while the parade was on.

  She passed the stone warehouse, shined her light at the windows, but they were closed tight, and the interior was dark.

  Still, she banged on the door with her fist. It was padlocked and secured with a chain. She shouted Angelica’s name and jiggled the lock, but she’d need a crowbar or bolt cutters to get inside, and she didn’t have time.

  So she moved on, running. But she feared she was already too late.

  139

  Angelica gasped for a breath, her lungs straining as she screamed and banged at the heavy stone. Her voice was hoarse and raw, her fingers bloody.

  A flicker of light seeped through the closed windows, which were so high she couldn’t see out of them even if she could stand. The air was growing thicker, making it hard to breathe. The suffocating heat made her feel nauseous.

  “Help me! Someone, please help me!”

  But her voice died in the thick slabs of concrete and stone. And a dizzy spell overcame her. Fear began to override her hope.

  Did anyone even know she was missing?

  140

  Ellie pushed through the crowd, the noise growing as the revelers cheered and clapped. She climbed the steps to the stage and nudged Tom, who was back filming.

  “Did you find her?” he asked, barely glancing at her.

  “No. Did you notice anything on the tapes?”

  “Not a thing,” he muttered.

  “Did Angelica take notes on what she was working on?”

  “She had a tablet but it’s password protected, and no one can get in. She didn’t trust anyone at the station with her contacts and refused to share the scoop until she verified facts.” He shifted. “But she did carry a pocket notepad that she scribbled in. She might have left it in the van.”

  “I need the keys.”

  His frown deepened, but he handed her the van keys, and Ellie bolted down the stairs and jogged through the back street to the parking lot. She unlocked the van then ran her hands over the seat. She didn’t see a notepad anywhere.

  Frantic, she checked the back of the van and found an extra camera and tripod, but no notepad. Hurrying to the passenger door, she lurched it open. She raked her hand across the seat again, but it was empty. Moving beneath the seat this time, her breath quickened as her fingers brushed a pocket spiral notepad. Tugging it out, she flipped through the pages. Frustration knotted her stomach as she realized Angelica used a shorthand.

  A noise suddenly erupted, and Ellie looked back at the town center. It almost sounded like an explosion.

  Jamming the notepad in her pocket, she raced in the direction of the sound. A car alarm had gone off and was trilling so loudly it pierced her ears. Blinking lights and a smashed window on a nearby Toyota looked like a break-in.

  Pulling her gun, she slowed, surveying the car and parking lot as she approached.

  Smoke oozed from the front hood. A sizzling sound filled the air. Heat rose from the vehicle, sparks of fire shooting. And then the gas tank blew, throwing Ellie to the ground.

  141

  Ellie threw her hands up to break her fall, but she hit the pavement face down. Pain shot through her extremities, her shoulder wrenched, and she tasted blood.

  The sound of the explosion reverberated in her ears, fire crackling and popping as the metal burned and glass shattered. Lifting her head to see if anyone was hurt, she saw footsteps running toward her.

  Struggling to catch her breath, she pushed to her hands and knees. Her wrist felt as if it was sprained, and her right knee throbbed.

  “Ellie!” Cord jogged to her, helping her up. Stunned from the force of the explosion, she staggered, but he slid his arm around her waist and they raced away from the flaming car.

  Voices filled the air, and the blare of a siren as a fire engine screeched up.

  Cord urged her to sit on the ground then stooped down beside her and cupped her face between his hands. “Are you okay? Where are you hurt?” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped the blood from her lip. “Ellie, talk to me,” he said gruffly.

  She finally managed to find her voice. “I’m okay, just… I don’t know what happened.”

  “The car exploded,” Cord said, his voice hard. “The medics should be here soon.”

  “What are you doing here?” Ellie asked.

  “A couple of the rangers and I volunteered to help with crowd control. Deputy Landrum told me you thought Angelica was missing so I was looking for you.” He exhaled. “Did you hit your head?”

  “No.” She held up her hands and glanced at her palms, which were grazed and scraped. Her jeans had a hole in the knee, where she could see a pool of blood.

  Cord dabbed blood and dirt from her palms then examined her knee, moving it around to check it. “Does that hurt?” he asked.

  Ellie winced. “A little but I think it’s just bruised.”

  Suddenly there were more voices, and Ellie’s parents raced over. Her stomach pitched at the terror in Vera’s eyes.

  “Dear God, what happened?” Randall asked.

  “A car alarm went off and I went to check it out. But the car just exploded.”


  Vera’s hand went to her chest. “My heavens. You could have been killed.”

  “Was anyone in the car?” Randall asked.

  “I didn’t see anyone.”

  The ambulance appeared, and two medics sprinted to her while the firefighters were working to extinguish the blazing metal. Black fumes and the heavy scent of gas permeated the air, smoke billowing into the gray skies.

  Cord squeezed her arm gently then stepped aside while the medics examined her.

  The sound of more cheers from the parade echoed over the noise of the burning metal.

  Randall went to talk to the firefighters while Vera huddled by Ellie in horror.

  “Go back to the parade, Mother,” Ellie said as the medics cleaned her up and applied a bandage to her knee and wrist. “I’m fine. Just a few scrapes.”

  Her mother folded her arms across her chest. “I can’t help but worry about you.”

  “You don’t have to,” Ellie said. “I can take care of myself.”

  Vera gave her a look of disdain. “You never would let me mother you.”

  Pushing to her feet, Ellie walked over to Cord, who stood talking to one of the firefighters. “What do you think happened here?” Cord asked the fireman.

  “Looks like a pipe bomb inside the vehicle,” he said. “I saw pieces of a watch, so it could have been set on a timer.”

  Cord’s look darkened as he took Ellie’s hand. “Did you hear that? Ellie, it might have been meant for you.”

  Ellie nodded, her teeth grinding together. “It was a diversion. He set off the fire to distract me so he could get away with Angelica.”

  142

  Somewhere outside Crooked Creek

  Angelica roused from unconsciousness, the world spinning. Her head throbbed as she opened her eyes to orient herself. Darkness engulfed her. The sound of a motor rumbling. The smell of gasoline.