Leland shifted suddenly, rolling her beneath him. He kissed her—slow, thorough, making the rest of the world disappear. When he finally lifted his head, his forehead rested against hers.
“Start making them. Because I’m done letting you walk away from me.”
Chapter 32
A hush settled over the chapel. There were sounds: the soft thud of shoes on the carpeted floor, the rustle of dark fabric, a tiny, choked sniffle quickly muffled somewhere in the pews. But it all felt muted, as if the world itself had paused for this solemn moment.
Julia had never met Anna Bellamy. She was a name, a case file, a smiling woman in a photograph. But through shared trauma, Julia felt connected to her in ways she wished she didn’t understand. They’d been in the same room, on the same bed, hunted by the same man. Julia knew better than anyone living how Anna’s last hours had unfolded.
That was why she was here. To say goodbye to a woman she’d never known but would never forget.
She stood beside Leland near the rear of the chapel, her fingers locked tightly through his as she watched the people who had truly known and loved Anna fill the pews.
At the front, near the altar, Anna’s mother stood supported by her husband. Both looked older than Julia expected, grief carving deep lines into their faces. Tears glimmered in Marlena Bellamy’s eyes, her silver-blonde hair trembling faintly as she spoke.
“My Anna was kind, giving, and an optimist,” she murmured, her soft voice carrying through the microphone. “She always tried to see the best in everyone. To believe that those around her were kind, too. Even when she probably shouldn’t have.”
Emotion tightened in Julia’s chest. Kindness shouldn’t be dangerous. Trust shouldn’t become a death sentence.
Leland’s thumb brushed the back of her hand. She leaned into him without thinking. He didn’t look at her or speak. He simply stayed beside her, steady and immovable in all the ways she needed.
After the service, mourners filtered out to the cemetery beneath a pale overcast sky. Low conversations drifted—halting platitudes, incomplete sentences, everyone trying not to say the wrong thing when there were no right things.
The graveside service was mercifully brief. Prayers, a blessing, the quiet sound of weeping.
Julia stayed close to Leland while Anna’s parents said goodbye to their daughter one last time.
When the minister finished and people began to leave, Mr. Bellamy approached them slowly through the grass.
He stopped in front of Leland and extended his hand. “Mr. Hale.”
Leland took it firmly. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
The older man nodded, swallowing hard. “They told me what you and Mr. Devlin did.”
Leland didn’t take credit. Didn’t minimize it either. “We had hoped for a better outcome.”
“We don’t have our sweet girl, but he’s going away,” Anna’s father said, voice rough. “No long trial and years of appeals. They said he confessed to everything to avoid the death penalty.”
Julia’s stomach twisted into a knot. All those missing women. Not four but eight more. A dozen families finally learning what happened to the beloved daughters, sisters, aunts, or nieces they’d spent years searching for.
Mr. Bellamy’s jaw worked. “They think he was afraid.”
Leland tensed beside her. “Afraid of what?”
The older man glanced toward the flower-draped casket. “Dying the way they did. Alone. Helpless. Without control.”
The words fell heavily between them. Strickland gave no mercy, yet accepted it for himself.
“I’m not a vindictive man,” Paul Bellamy said quietly. “But I’m glad he got his bargain. He needs to live with what he’s done every day he breathes when my Anna does not.” He turned back to Leland. “Thank you for ending the torment of wondering for us.”
Leland inclined his head. What more could be said?
When Mr. Bellamy looked at Julia, his expression softened. “You were the last woman he took.”
“Yes. I’m so sorry about Anna.”
He reached out, hesitant, before resting his hand lightly on her arm. “I’m glad you survived him.”
