Page 8 of Sentinel's Kiss

“I’ll tell your father. He’ll be so thrilled.”

He might not be, if he saw she was investigating a serial killer.

“Can you be ready to move out by this weekend?” her mother asked.

Ashley fought against the inevitable out of habit. “I’m in the middle of a story. I’ve got interviews to conduct and leads to track down.”

“I could send a team over to pack for you.”

Of course she could.

“It’s just for the summer,” Ashley said, knowing that giving her mother an inch would equal a mile. “And I don’t have a lot of stuff so I need a furnished apartment, and a roommate would be nice. It’s going to take some time to find a place like that.”

“I have just the place for you.”

Game, set, match.

Damn it. Ashley had been outmaneuvered. Her mother had the apartment all set up this whole time. She scowled at the windshield. An unknown phone number rang in. “Mom, I have another call coming through. I have to get this.” She switched over and answered the phone in her best newscaster’s voice. “This is Ashley Carver.”

“Ms. Carver, this is Sheriff Colbert from Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania.”

Ashley straightened up in her seat. “Sheriff, thank you so much for returning my call.”

“I remember you from a few years ago when you were reporting on Sarah Stevens’s murder. So when you called about some similar deaths, I wanted to help. But I’m afraid I might not have much that you don’t already know.”

“Every little bit helps, Sheriff.” After fishing through her purse for her notebook, Ashley flipped it open. Luckily she was still at a dead stop. “Here’s what I’ve got. There have been three murders since Sarah’s that are tied to the Poconos Hunting Club: Kelly Yost in Atlantic City in 2015, Mira Donovan in New Haven, Connecticut, about eight months later, and then just recently Alison Jones in upstate New York.”

“You mean to tell me all their husbands alibied with the Poconos Hunting Club?”

“No.” Ashley blew out a frustrated sigh. “No one except Sarah’s husband did that. But they were all members.”

“It’s a big club,” Sheriff Colbert mused. “Over five hundred members.”

“I’m still waiting on the details of the last case, but the victims were all driven into a lake, all stuffed into the trunk of the car, and all came from abusive relationships.”

Stan had always denied the abuse claims, but Josh had thought he had smacked around his sister. Ashley couldn’t get anyone to say if Sarah had been abused or not, but Stan didn’t look the type. He was too meek and mild-mannered.

“Were they all pregnant, like Sarah Stevens?” the sheriff asked.

“I don’t know. It wasn’t in the reports. I’ve informed the detectives on the individual cases about the possible connections, but they aren’t sharing a lot of information.”

“So what can I do for you?” the sheriff asked.

“What do you know about the owner of the Poconos Hunting Club?” Ashley flipped through her notes. “Peter Reynolds?”

“Nothing off the top of my head.” Ashley heard the tapping of keys. “He’s paid up on his taxes. Never been arrested. His permits are in order.”

“Rats,” Ashley grumbled.

“I’m pretty sure those detectives you called are going to go through his member list with a fine-tooth comb. If these murders are related, there’s a good chance the name of the murderer is there. You’re not going to be able to get a copy of that list until they’re done with it.”

“I was afraid of that.”

“Let the police do their job.”

“I am. I just wanted something for my story.” Ashley tapped her pen on her teeth. “What did you think of Sarah Stevens’s husband?”

“I would have thought a lot more of him if he didn’t vanish once she was in the ground.”

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