Walter, maybe? Clarence?
Where were they going?
And perhaps most alarmingly—why did the person have a gun?
Finally, up ahead, the shadow stopped at a clearing.
Recognition sparked as she looked around. She knew where she was. She’d been led to Maddie’s house.
Holy shit.
She crept closer as the figure stood still, between the trees, staring at the house.
Waiting for something…
She crept even closer, her heart pounding with each step. As she neared the silhouette, her eyes narrowed. The person was short. Very short.
Definitely not Walter, or Clarence.
A woman?
What the hell?
Her foot slid off a slick rock, causing her to stumble.
She jumped behind a tree, held her breath and waited a few beats. She slowly peered around the thick trunk—
The person was gone.
CHAPTER 19
6:30 a.m.
Luke tossed his phone into the console and gripped the steering wheel. He’d just updated Zander, who was already up and headed to the station himself. Zander promised he’d get the ball rolling on getting a bulletin out about Walter Thorne, immediately.
He frowned as he entered the two-lane highway that ran through the middle of town.
He could understand Walter’s desire for revenge against his daughter, who was responsible for providing the evidence to lock him away, and even revenge against his wife, Ms. Thorne for not preventing it from happening. Perhaps he burned down the library hoping she was inside.
Hell, they all knew he had anger issues.
But what he didn’t understand was, why kill Maddie? How did she fit into this?
His thoughts trailed to his brief interview with her mother, Clara Potter, and the odd behavior she’d exhibited.
Why didn’t she ask a single thing about her daughter’s death? It had bothered him since they'd left her house.
He chewed on his bottom lip in deep thought.
Up ahead, he saw a sign that read Den Cross Church.
He braked—wasn’t that the name of the church Clara said she’d taken Maddie?
The side door of the church opened, and a woman carrying a stack of boxes walked out. He whipped his truck into the parking lot, parked, and got it.
“Here, let me help you.”
From behind red wide-rimmed frames, the woman looked up. “Oh, Officer West, good morning and thank you.” Her voice shook as she spoke.
He didn’t recognize her, but apparently, she did him.
He took the boxes from her hands. “They’ve put you to work, huh?”
She slowly stepped off the sidewalk onto the parking lot. “It’s my honor. I volunteer here every day. We’re cooking breakfast for the homeless this morning.” She looked at him. “You don’t remember me, but you pulled me out of a ditch during the last snowstorm we had.”
He searched his memory.
“At four-thirty in the morning.”
Ah, yes. He definitely remembered that little ice-cold adventure. She’d driven right off the road into a steep ravine. It was a miracle that the worst thing that had happened to her was a spilled coffee. Only lukewarm, thank God. They’d had to suspend the damn boat-sized sedan to pull it out. It’d taken all morning, and he swore he’d gotten a touch of frostbite on his toes. He still didn’t have feeling in the left big one.
She continued, “I owe you for that. You’re such a wonderful boy.”
He smiled—boy.
“Mrs. Graham, if you don’t remember.”
“Yes, I remember, Mrs. Graham.”
She led him to the same car he’d pulled from the ravine and popped the trunk. He set the boxes inside.
“Mrs. Graham, do you know Maddie Potter, by chance?”
She cocked her head, searching her memory. A solid ten seconds slid by. “Yes, Clara Potter’s daughter. Why do you ask?”
“Do you remember seeing them last Sunday?”
“I do. Clara handed out the morning’s bulletin. She’s here every Sunday. She volunteers, too, you know.”
“Does she? How often?”
“Almost every day, like me.”
“You know her, then?”
“Well, she keeps to herself, mainly. To keep the devil away, she says. Odd one, she is. I guess that’s to be expected,” she leaned forward and whispered, “with her condition and all.”
“Condition?”
“Oh yes, dear, haven’t you heard? She’s got paranoid personality disorder. Or, so they say.”
His radar went off like lightning through him. “Does she?”
“Oh, yes. On lots of meds. But I think she might be forgetting to take them because she keeps talking about this boy that moved in with her daughter. Really weird kid, up to no good, she says.”
Jax.
His eyes scanned the parking lot. “Is Clara Potter here right now?”
Mrs. Graham frowned and looked around. “She stopped by about thirty minutes ago and dropped off some biscuits. Said she had something to do real quick and she’d be back within the hour.”
His pulse picked up. Something to do.
She continued, “You know she lives just around the block over there. Maybe I should go check on her…”
“No, I’ll do it.” He was already reaching for his keys. “Thank you, Mrs. Graham, and stay to the left of the shoulder, ya hear?”
Her boisterous laugh faded as he jogged to his truck. He pulled out of the parking lot and passed the road that led to Clara’s house.
No, she wouldn’t be at home. His gut told him exactly where she’d gone.
He grabbed his cell phone and dialed Scar’s number—no answer. A ball formed in his stomach. Why wasn’t she answering her phone?
He pressed the gas, driving dangerously fast through the windy, mountain roads. As he drew closer to the dirt road that led to Maddie’s house, a dense fog engulfed him.
The hair on the back of his neck prickled.
Something was wrong.
Something was very wrong.
CHAPTER 20
Shit, shit, shit. Where the hell did she go?
Scar scanned the foggy woods around her, searching for any movement and listening for any sounds—nothing. The world was silent, not even a bird chirping or a squirrel scurrying through the trees above. She squinted, trying to make out the blurry shapes around her, barely visible through the thick fog.
With her gun gripped in her hand, she slowly stepped away from the tree and made her way to the edge of the clearing. No figure, no movement, no lights, nothing.
She glanced over her shoulder, took a deep breath and stepped into the clearing—out in the open. She immediately felt vulnerable, exposed.
She crouched, keeping her senses heightened. If she could make it to the truck, she’d have some cover, at least.
Her heart thrummed in her chest. Okay, one, two, three…
She straightened and took off in a sprint, when—
Pop, pop, pop!
A bullet whizzed past her, hitting the truck just a few feet in front of her. Glass shattered around her, exploding through the air.
She lurched forward and dove to the ground, expecting to feel the heat of a bullet rip through her body. Her gun flew from her hand. Panic seized her. Had she been hit?!
Just then, the front door of the house opened. She raised her head—
“Athena, get down!”
The young girl’s eyes rounded as she searched for the voice—
Pop, pop!
Scar watched Athena’s body fall to the ground.
No!
She pushed off the ground as movement beside her caught her eye. She whipped her head around just as Clara Potter burst from the woods.
Clara Potter.
She scrambled to the far side of the truck, desperately searching for her gun. Quick footsteps ascended on the truck.
Oh, my God.
She had n
owhere to run, nowhere to hide. No gun. She looked around for any kind of weapon to defend herself, until she heard movement behind her—right behind her.
Fear ran like acid over her skin.
Scar slowly turned to see Clara, trembling like a leaf, with a gun pointed directly in-between Scar's eyes.
“Stop, Clara, don’t do it.”
Tears poured from the woman’s eyes, black mascara streaks ran down her pale face. Her eyes were wild, feral. A look Scar had seen before—and it never ended well.
Her heart skipped violently in her chest. Talk Scar, talk.
“Clara. Don’t. This is enough. It’s over.”
The look in Clara’s eyes had alarms exploding in Scar’s head—an instinct. This woman wasn’t right.
She focused on the gun in her shaky hand as Clara gripped it harder. “Don't...”
Clara’s finger began to squeeze the trigger.
“Clara, no!” She lunged for the gun when—
Pop!
The woman’s body flew backward like a rag doll and tumbled to the ground.
“Scar!”
She spun on her heel to see Luke, gun in hand, barreling across the yard.
“Are you okay?” His eyes frantically scanned her body.
Breathless, she said, “Yes, yes…” She looked toward the front door of the house. “Athena!” She jumped over Clara’s lifeless body, sprinted to the house and fell to her knees beside Athena.
“Are you okay, Athena, are you okay?”
Athena opened her eyes, tears falling down her cheeks, soaking her shaggy auburn hair. “I’m okay.”
Scar looked at the two bullet holes in the front door. Clara had missed Athena’s head by a half-inch.
Relief flooded her as she grabbed the young girl’s hands. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Athena nodded, began sobbing, and fell into Scar’s arms.
She looked up at Luke, tears welling in her eyes. “She’s okay,” she whispered. “She’s going to be okay.”
He nodded, his eyes filled with emotion, and stroked the back of her hair as she held Athena. He leaned forward, kissed her head, lingering for a moment before pulling away. “I’ve got to make some calls. You’re okay, right? You promise me you’re okay?”
She nodded. As he turned, she called his name. “Luke?”
He turned back.
She nodded toward Clara and the bullet Luke had put in her chest, saving Scar’s life by a split-second. “Thank you.” Her voice cracked. “You saved my life.”
He nodded, his steely eyes staring at her with a look that had her stomach fluttering. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped. Instead, he nodded, turned and pressed his phone to his ear.
Two hours later, Scar drove down the pothole-ridden driveway of Ms. Thorne’s house. The fog had lifted, but the heavy cloud cover remained, making a gloomy morning. Rain scented the air.
She rolled to a stop and took a deep breath—one last thing to do and then this nightmare would be over.
Not ten minutes after Luke had saved her life, the cavalry arrived, sirens blaring. She’d insisted on staying with Athena until the girl stopped crying and calmed. Over the course of the next hour, Athena told the story of Walter, her father, calling her repeatedly after being released from jail, trying to see her. After many denied requests, he became angry and began following her. Two weeks ago, she was walking home from school through the park, where he pulled her into his white van.
Athena was the girl that was kidnapped that day.
However, Athena’s God-given strength shined through and three stoplights down the road, she escaped from the van, ran to the nearest drug store, purchased a box of red hair dye and changed her identity. Afraid to go to the police, or to her house, where she assumed her father had gone, she’d slept in her car by Hell’s Cove for several days before meeting Maddie Potter, who offered her a place to stay for a while. She hid her car deep in the woods behind the house and assumed the identity of Jax Smith until she could figure out what the hell to do with her life.
She believed that Walter was at the library that evening, looking for her. But Athena had her doubts that he'd started the fire, which was in line with what Chief Cage had discovered during his investigation—nothing. As of that moment, there was no official cause of the library fire. Another mysterious fire in Devil's Den.
After coming back from dropping off rent at Clarence's house, Athena saw the chaos from the woods and sneaked away, scared she'd be taken back to her mother and father. She stayed the night in the woods, where she found three bullet casings. After Luke compared the casings to the gun in Clara Potter's hands, he felt confident they were from the same gun. But one big question still remained—why did Clara kill her daughter? And why was Jax—Athena—next?
An hour later, after being comforted by Scar, Athena bravely agreed to go with Luke to the station to tell her story on tape and ensure that Walter never saw the light of day again. Luke had Zander bring Scar's Jeep over from Hell’s Cove, and after making her promise she’d call him as soon as she met with Thorne, she left the scene, while Luke and Zander headed to Clara's house, hoping to find some answers.
And after one super-quick—and covert—stop at Clarence Holmes's trailer on the way, she was finally at Ms. Thorne's house to deliver her end of the deal.
She turned off the engine as the ball of fur next to her released an excited whine.
She smiled, stroked the Rottweiler/Pit mix’s massive head. “I’ll be right back buddy, okay? Just a few more things to do before I show you your new digs. I’ve got a fenced-in backyard almost the size of your head.”
The dog licked her face, his stubby tail wagging wildly.
She smiled. “How do you feel about a name change, Snots?”
Another lick.
“Sunny. I like Sunny.” She grabbed her bag. “Be right back, Sunny.”
Her hand slid over the Glock in her bag as she clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes. She stepped up to the old, wooden front door and knocked.
Adrenaline had her pulse pounding, and she felt for her gun, again. What if Thorne didn’t keep up her end of the deal?
Another knock.
Finally, the door cracked open and the same evil, bloodshot eye from the night before peeked through.
“Let me in, Thorne.”
A hairy eyebrow raised, and the door opened.
She stepped inside, pushing past the old woman. “Where’s Fiona?”
Thorne narrowed her eyes, looking Scar up and down. “Where’s my daughter?”
“At the police station downtown—safe. She has a hell of a story to tell you.”
“Prove it.”
“I thought you’d say that.” She pulled out her phone, and after a quick exchange with Luke, she switched to a live video mode that showed Athena devouring a hot breakfast, courtesy of Gollum’s Grill.
For a moment—a split-second—Scar saw relief flash in the woman’s beady eyes. And in that split-second, Scar saw goodness in Ms. Thorne. It was there, buried deep, deep inside.
“She changed her hair.”
“Like I said, she’s got a hell of a story to tell you.” She slid the phone into her pocket. “Where’s Fiona?”
Thorne cast a wary look out the front window. She grabbed Scar's arm and pulled her into the shadows.
In a low, quick voice, she said, “There’s a deep ravine, five miles past Hell’s Cove. There’s an old hunter’s road, barely visible, that will take you there.”
“She’s there? In the ravine?”
Thorne’s eyes darted around from window to window. “Yes,” she whispered.
Scar's heart pounded. “Krestel took her, didn't she?”
The slightest nod in response.
“And set the library on fire to cover her tracks.”
Thorne's lips pressed together and she nodded, again. The woman was terrified. Terrified of Krestel.
Scar stared at her for a moment, almost awestruck tha
t the witch had kept up her end of the deal. “You can pick your daughter up in an hour. She’s scared, Thorne. She needs a safe place. She needs love.”
Ms. Thorne looked down.
She put her hand on the librarian’s shoulder. “It’s never too late to start over. To make things right.” Scar turned, and over her shoulder said, “Might be time to rethink being a member of an evil coven, Thorne.”
A second passed. “Oh, honey, there’s nothing to rethink.” She looked up, her fear palpable. “None of us can escape.”
CHAPTER 21
With Sunny buckled-in at her side, and Luke on the phone, Scar barreled down the dirt road—if you could call it that—that led to the only deep ravine she knew of that was within five miles of Hell’s Cove.
“We’re still combing Clara’s house, but really, we’ve got everything we need so far. Everything we needed was written in a diary she kept by the bed. And let me tell you… I felt like I needed to walk through a church and cleanse my soul after reading it. Creepy-ass shit.”
Scar shook her head. “So let me get this straight—Clara, who has severe paranoid personality disorder, has spent her entire life thinking someone was out to kill her and her daughter, Maddie.”
“Right. According to her medicine cabinet, she’s been medicated for decades, but doesn’t seem to take them regularly.”
Scar nodded. “That’s not uncommon with mental illness. There’s triggers that make it worse, and in this case, it was Maddie moving out.”
“Right. She totally lost it, worrying day and night that something was going to happen to her and her daughter. She even had packed a suitcase that she kept next to the front door to escape if needed.”
“Wow.”
“And when a stranger, Jax, aka Athena, moved in with her daughter, Clara now had a person to place all that paranoia on. So after a week of the worrying building, building, building, she takes a gun, with the intentions to kill the 'weird' boy that she was so sure was going to hurt her daughter. And as bad luck would have it, Maddie had tied her hair back and grabbed one of Athena’s, or Jax’s, baseball caps for a quick grocery run last night. The moment she stepped out the door, Clara shot her, thinking it was Jax.”
“Oh, my God, Luke, I just can't believe it. She killed her daughter. That’s why she didn’t ask a single question about her daughter’s death when we visited—because she did it. Accidentally. She didn’t need to ask because she knew exactly what happened.”
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