Page 35 of Depraved Truths

“There are developments regarding the girls who have disappeared around Lake Lucia during the last ten years. My team and I are heading over there in a few days.” Jonah pauses briefly before replying, “Eli, your sister’s case is being reopened.”

After recovering from the shock of what Jonah told me, I spend a couple of minutes staring at my phone before getting up to pace the room.

Jonah said he’d call when he arrives in town so we can meet up, grab a beer, and talk face to face. I tried to get more information out of him over the phone, but he wouldn’t elaborate further.

I’ve known about the girls disappearing from counties bordering the lake every year, yet those girls never turn up again. Paisley’s body was the only one found.

Grief and anger rise in me, but I try not to let it pull me under. Years of guilt and anguish regarding my sister’s death have plagued me. Maybe we’ll finally get some answers. I think of my parents, but hesitate to reach out. I should probably wait until I know more. There’s no reason to make them relive their trauma before I have more insight into the investigation.

Desperately needing a distraction, I send a text to Tessa.

Me: How’s my girl doing today?

Tessa: I’m not your girl. What do you want, Stalker? I’m working.

Harsh. I thought she’d be a little more relaxed today. Guess not.

Me: Not yet. But you will be. Stop running, and I’ll stop chasing you.

Tessa: You sound awfully confident.

Me: Oh,I am. I’ll win you over yet. How about dinner tonight?

I see the bubbles pop up, but it takes a couple of minutes for her response.

Tessa: I can’t tonight.I have plans.

Me: What kind of plans?

Tessa: The kind that are none of your business.

Me: Damn, you wound me. And here I thought we were friends. Friends with benefits? We can be friends without benefits, I guess, but aren’t the benefits more fun?

Tessa: For Christ’s sake, I’ll text you tomorrow. I have to get back to work now.

Me: See, you want me. You just don’t want to admit it to yourself.

Tessa: Goodbye, Stalker.

I grin, shoving my phone into my pocket. I’ll win her over. Soon. I have no doubts about it. Something has been nagging at me. Curiosity wins out, and I hop into my truck to head to her place. The best time for snooping is when she’s at work.

As I turn down Tessa’s road, I see her car backing out of the driveway, and a sense of dread rolls through my stomach.

What the actual fuck?She’s supposed to be at the hospital, saving lives, but here she is turning right, heading in the opposite direction. I follow, keeping my distance.

Thirty minutes later, she pulls into a run-down rest stop. It’s one of those shady places that people usually avoid. There are three other cars in the lot. She steps out of her car with a small duffle bag and heads toward the ladies’ room while I slowly pull into a nearby convenience store parking lot.

I wait, tapping my fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, scanning the rest stop, as a woman walks out of the restroom. She has dark brown hair pulled into a ball cap, wearing black jeans and a tight black tee. I freeze, and a cold chill crawls down my spine. By all appearances, she could be a stranger. But I know that body—every curve, every contour.

What the hell is going on?

Cautiously glancing around, Tessa walks past her silver Lexus and slides into the driver's seat of a run-down black Mustang with tinted windows. I follow as she pulls out of the rest stop, my mind racing through a hundred different scenarios.

Twenty miles later, she turns onto a dead-end road two counties over. I can't risk her seeing me, so I take the first trail I spot and park. She slowly drives past a few rundown homes before reaching the end of the road and parking behind a tree. Climbing out of the car, she grabs the duffle bag and dons a black raincoat. I gaze up at the sky—heavy clouds are hanging low, and it looks like rain could pour at any moment.

She walks into the woods, and I give her a few minutes before following. Grabbing my gun, I slip out of the truck. I may not know this area well, but tracking someone is something I wastrained for and have done many times before. She’s good at covering her tracks, though; she’s not making it easy. I spot a broken stick and the faint trace of a footprint and continue to move quietly behind her. Reaching the edge of a clearing, I stand behind a tree, watching. Waiting.

Chapter 24

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