“You think he’s in on it?” I ask.
“Not on this, but he’s in on something. I think he’s fucking dirty, Nova.”
“But there’s nothing we can do to bring that to light without undeniable proof,” I assert, sighing.
“Which is my conundrum. I’ve been trying to catch him being shady or not following the letter of the law, but all I’m managing to unveil is him being a fat, lazy fuck.”
“Which describes his entire precinct in a nutshell,” I reply. “I’ve caught several of his deputies parked off the side of the road, napping. One of those times, I was nearly side-swipped by a speeder. Pissed me the hell off because I was busy saving myself from eating dirt and didn’t get a license plate number.”
“Which you shouldn’t have had to do considering there was a patrol car there,” Patterson adds. “If he’d been alert while on patrol, he could’ve caught the speeder.”
“Yes. I threatened to sue the city but they made it right by having my bike repaired and my medical bills covered. I didn’t take things further because I didn’t think it’d do any good. The city would’ve buried my case to the bottom of the barrel and I’d never have seen a dime in reimbursement.”
“Small townships get away with too much political bullshit,” Patterson rebuts. “Citizens no longer come first. It’s why they don’t thrive and are slowly crumbling into ghost towns. Then they ask for government assistance because they’re losing not only their residents but income from businesses as well.”
“They forget that taxpayers provide them with their paychecks. If they push people out, there’s no one to add to the town’s funds,” I tack on.
“I’m here. I’ll let you know if we unearth any more bodies, Nova.”
“I’ll keep my phone on me. If you need to bounce any ideas off me, feel free to call, Patterson.”
“Will do,” he says before disconnecting.
It takes an entire week for them to clear the crime scene, and even then Patterson is hesitant about letting me scout the area. They found three more corpses buried in the general region as the first. Which leaves one still unaccounted for—that’s his biggest concern about letting me traipse through their burial site.
He’s fearful I could compromise things, but what he doesn’t understand is that I’m better trained and more qualified than him and his techs are. I don’t flaunt that fact in his face because I need him to keep letting me in. Without that, I’ll be five steps behind them and I need to get in front of this as quickly as I can because if I don’t, another woman will come up missing and I can’t continue living with that on my conscience.
They don’t suspect that Stella is among the bodies found, but soon, she will be disposed of if the killer follows his timeline. I only have a few short weeks to sort this shit out and I feel the weight of the clock as it counts down the minutes.
One clue—that’s all I need so I can solve this and end this fucker’s reign of terror.
CHAPTER
FOUR
GIRL ONE
Two and I huddle into the corner of our room, arms wrapped around each other as Father throws things around. He’s so very angry today. Something has set him off and nothing we do or say is helping. If anything, it made his anger worse. The one time I tried to ask him what was wrong, he backhanded me. Just remembering that powerful hit has me lifting my hand and gently placing it over my throbbing, and no doubt, bruised cheek.
“Did we do something wrong?” Two asks, her entire being vibrating in sheer terror.
“I don’t think so, sister. But something has made him very angry so we shouldn’t talk. We need to let him tire himself out,” I answer, my voice meek. Talking, even if it’s done with a mousy whisper, seems to ignite the fire within him.
I’m not sure how long it takes until he wears himself out, but once he does, he turns to us with fire in his eyes and states, “I’m going to be gone for a little bit. There’s something I have to take care of and it can’t be done here. I’m going to empty the contents of the fridge upstairs and store it in y’all’s. It should be enoughfood to last you for a week. You are not to go upstairs no matter what. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Father,” I say, lowering my head in submission.
“Two?” he probes, wanting a verbal answer from her as well.
“Yes, Father,” she quietly responds. I know she’s disappointed because she earned the right to go upstairs and cook in the big kitchen. Two took on a big project for Father last week and he promised her she could try a few recipes she found in an old cookbook while cleaning out the attic.
“Go into the pit until I leave,” he orders, pointing at the half-sized door tucked back into a corner on the opposite side of the room.
I shiver because the pit is used for punishment when we do something wrong. It’s a small room that barely fits one of us let alone both of us. We both drag our feet but do his bidding. We have no other alternative but to make ourselves vulnerable as we crouch down and duck walk inside. One of his favorite things to do is shove us inside and this time is no different. We land in a mix of tangled arms and legs as we fall over.
“Don’t test me, girls, or I’ll lock you inside until I get back.”
We cuddle because there’s no choice in the matter. Two sits in between my legs, her body relaxed into mine as I lean back against the wall. I hold her close to me as we listen to the banging and cursing happening on the other side of the door.
