The communal television in the common area was set on the news each night, so after he showered off the foul garbage odor, he joined the other guys to watch. Things had changed in the two decades he’d been put away. Cars, clothing, politics and people’s views on sexual orientation. Technology had changed faster than lightning and left him in the dark.
Two of the other residents were already seated, glued to the TV set where the weather forecast was displayed. In prison, it hadn’t mattered if it rained or shined but with his current job, he hoped for clear days.
“Early winter storms are threatening all over the Southeast,” the meteorologist said. “In the next few days, we may be seeing those in North Georgia with heavy winds, snow and power outages. Gear up for a few days at home, folks.”
“Get on with the news,” a beefy guy with sleeves of tattoos and ham hock-sized thighs and fists, which had earned him the nickname Ham, muttered. The foulmouthed man rubbed Larry the wrong way. Although they were all starved for currentevents, this guy had been incarcerated for hurting a child. Larry had zero tolerance for that.
Judging from the scars crisscrossing Ham’s hands and arms, neither had the inmates he’d served with.
A pretty, dark-haired, coffee-skin reporter named Angelica Gomez appeared. “This is an update on the latest in the Minnie Benton case. Police have confirmed the young woman’s death, first thought to be a suicide at Midnight Ridge, was a homicide and are searching for any information regarding her death and the disappearance of her toddler daughter, Iris.”
A photo of a teenager appeared along with a picture of a bubbly little ebony-haired child, and Ham scooted to the edge of his chair for a better look.
Anger shot through Larry, but he forced himself not to react. Trouble here meant a parole violation and he didn’t intend to go back to prison.
“Teams have been combing Midnight Ridge for the little girl for two days now, so please study the photograph. If you or anyone you know has seen her, call your local police or the tip line we’ve established.”
Larry swallowed hard. Midnight Ridge. The place where his own life had fallen apart.
The images that had dogged him in his sleep for twenty years.
The body lying at the bottom of the ridge, bones broken, skull fractured, blood seeping everywhere. Not a day had gone by that he hadn’t had nightmares of her. His dead wife.
Still, over the years he’d questioned the events of that horrific night. He’d not only lost his wife that night but his son.
Had his sacrifice been worth the cost?
FORTY-NINE
Midnight Ridge
Ellie met Cord at the parking lot, and they hiked slightly north of the ridge where Minnie had lost her life. It was an uphill climb, and she was grateful she’d worn her hiking boots and grabbed a water bottle before heading on the two-mile trek.
With storms threatening, the sky was turning a dark gray, the leaves of the trees blowing in the intense winds. The stench of a dead animal swirled in the air, and Ellie glanced into the bushes to the right and spotted a deer that had been mauled by other animals. Crow feathers dotted the bushes although they hadn’t done the damage here. Judging from the condition of the dead carcass, vultures, and perhaps a larger animal, a bear or coyote, had fed on the deer’s remains.
They rounded a bend and a fallen tree, stepping over the rotting wood. Cord had gotten the coordinates from his partner Milo, and Ellie followed him, grateful for his guidance. There were areas on the AT that were overgrown with bushes and other plant life, the trees so close together they looked as if they were intertwined. If you didn’t have a compass, you could easily getlost and walk in circles, but Cord was a pro and the best tracker in the area.
Finally, they passed a dry section of the creek, and Ellie shivered as the air became more frigid. The scent of damp moss and muck from the creek filled the air.
“Over there,” Cord said, pointing to the right.
Ellie nodded and trailed him as he made his way through the tangled path, where Milo stood by a boulder. When they were less than a foot away, she spotted blood spatter on the rock.
“It’s definitely Roman,” Cord said grimly.
Ellie approached the scene with caution, scanning the area for possible evidence. The old man lay face down across the rock, arms dangling, blood streaking the stone and his clothes. The back of his shirt was torn and bloody.
“Looks like he was shot in the back before he collapsed and smashed his face,” Cord said. “Could have been a freak hunting accident.”
Ellie shook her head. “I might consider that except he was the witness in our homicide case. So cruel to kill a homeless man and leave him to the elements.”
“If he was killed by our unsub, the MO is different from the female victims,” Cord said.
“The girls’ deaths were more personal and filled with rage,” Ellie pointed out. “My guess is the killer realized Roman had seen him, wanted him disposed of quickly and didn’t have time to waste.”
She snapped a few photographs of the scene and the man before moving closer. Satisfied she’d gotten the basics on camera, she scanned Roman’s craggy face. Then his body and his bloody, tattered worn shirt. “You’re right. A gunshot in the back,” Ellie said.
“Probably why he ran from the scene after I talked to him. He realized the unsub might have noticed him,” Cord commented.
