Page 87 of Snow Creek

“Cuff him. We’ll clear the barn and then work as a team over the property.”

I nod.

“Son, you need to tell us what you know about Ellie’s whereabouts, Sheriff says. “You won’t have much to help you when you go through the process, but this is one chance to make things go a little smoother.”

As if a triple homicide could be smooth.

“Let’s clear the barn,” Sheriff orders. “We’re looking for the girl.”

Joshua’s eyes flutter as I secure the handcuffs. His pupils are filling his iris. He’s going into shock. He needs medical attention. The officer in the car heads toward me. I wave for him to hurry and he yells at me.

“Look out, Detective!”

I see Sheriff lunging in my direction, but it’s too late.

“She’s got a knife!”

Ellie has thrown herself on me like a missile. I’m face down in the dirt and she’s wielding a blade against my neck.

“Make a move and this will go through your throat,” she says, coolly, a tone that suggests she means it. Maybe even had done it before. She’s fishing for the keys to the handcuffs, but they are in my front pocket and I’m flat to the ground. Her hot breath rakes against me, her fingers like a hundred spiders searching my body.

“You don’t want to do this, Ellie,” Sheriff pleads.

Her eyes dart away from me to him.

“You have no idea what I want to do.”

She presses the knife against my throat and speaks to Joshua.

“You did good,” she says.

I’m gasping for air in the dirt and feeling as stupid as I’ve ever felt in my life.

Despite the seriousness of Joshua’s injury, it’s a set-up. She used Joshua as bait. And we fell for it.

We should have known.

I should have known.

Blood from Joshua’s wound puddles.

“We know you are Ellie Burbank,” I say. “By this time tomorrow, everyone will know your face and your name. So stop. Stop now. Stop before you lose everything.”

Ellie seethes. “You stupid bitch. I’d rather have the nothing I have now than anything I’d ever had before. I don’t care about anything that people like you think is precious. Even freedom.”

She finally locates the key.

“Get up, Josh. Get over here.”

He slithers in the dirt, making guttural sounds.

She twists to give him the key, and I know it’s my chance and I make a rookie move.

I grab at the knife. Stupid. My hand is cut, and I yell out in pain. I turn myself over with such ferocity that it pushes her up and over to Joshua, who lets out a gurgled scream.

And then, a staccato, guttural, “I didn’t kill her.”

Ellie slides off of Joshua. Her eyes appear frozen and empty.

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