Page 53 of Widow Lake

Cord hadn’t heard from Ellie all day and he didn’t like it. He knew she was working the case and he needed to be working, too. SAR was his salvation. The only thing that kept his mind from his sins.

Some sins can’t be undone.

He had to live with them. Trouble was, he didn’t have one ounce of regret. That made him evil, didn’t it?

“We’re calling off the divers,” the chief said. “After all this time, even if they found remains, it’d take weeks to analyze, especially with unmarked graves below. Some people think that it’s sacrilege for us to disturb them.”

He was right. It had been an impossible task but they’d had to try.

The teams packed up and headed out, tired and frustrated but telling themselves they’d given it their best shot.

“Go home and get some rest,” the chief said. “You never know what trouble tomorrow will bring.”

Didn’t Cord know it? But he wasn’t ready to go home. He’d seen the picture of that innocent little girl and her face was stamped in his mind, a reminder of other little ones who’d been lost.

Night was setting in with a vengeance, the last rays of sunshine shimmering off the lake. God knows he loved nature, but this place reminded him of growing up in that mortuary, of the vile things his foster father had done. Of the fact that death was always there, just waiting to grab you and drag you into the underground.

That evil was everywhere, like a fire-breathing dragon, as real as the unbearable heat killing off nature at that very moment.

He pulled his flashlight and decided to search a nearby secluded spot he’d found when he was hiking. Gnats and mosquitos swarmed like crazy, nipping at his face and arms as he hiked through the woods. He grabbed a stick and used it to part the foliage, checking as he went for the black snakes that lurked in the grasses.

Dry brush rattled, brittle limbs cracking and twigs snapping as his boots crushed them. A mile, then another and he wound up the mountain to a cove known for water moccasins and rattlers. A warning sign had been erected to deter campers and hikers. Even daredevil teens and drunks who congregated to party and dive into the lake from the ridges above avoided the area.

He shined his light across the mossy clearing near the cove, past a fallen log and thick brush. Suddenly he spotted a tiny handmade wooden cross stuck in the ground beneath a patch of honeysuckle.

Swallowing hard, he crossed the distance, pebbles tumbling down as he climbed a few feet to where the cross stood. He could hardly see it for the overgrown vines but as he got closer, he realized it looked like a grave.

His chest wrenched for a breath. A grave just the size for a small child.

SIXTY-THREE

THE JAVA JUNKIE

While Ellie compiled a spreadsheet of missing persons fitting the profile of the other victims, Derrick researched Pockley’s background, then received a text from his partner at the Bureau.

He quickly skimmed it. “Bennett didn’t find a record of any abandoned babies in this area around the time of Amy’s disappearance. No local adoptions either that were accessible, although he’s still searching across the States.”

Ellie sighed. “She could be anywhere.”

Derrick nodded grimly and phoned Dr. Morehead. The phone went straight to voicemail so he left a message asking him to return his call as soon as possible.

“I need to know if you learned anything from Radcliff. He might be connected to a series of other murders that we just become aware of.”

He hung up, but something Dr. Dansen said about her former students and their careers niggled at him. He quickly checked Dr. Morehead’s background and credentials.

“Dammit,” he said to Ellie. “Looks like the forensic psychiatrist I asked to question Radcliff attended Widow Peak College for undergrad.”

“Do you think he knew Radcliff or these other guys?” Ellie asked.

“I don’t know, but when I talk to him, I’m going to find out.”

Annoyed Dr. Morehead hadn’t mentioned a connection, he called Radcliff’s mental health counselor at the prison. Although it was after hours, she answered immediately.

“Reba Boles,” she said. “The warden gave me a heads-up that you might want to talk to me.”

“Thanks for taking my call,” Derrick said. “It’s about inmate Dominique Radcliff.”

“Understood. I know he’s only weeks away from execution and his lawyer is petitioning for a stay of execution order. I also know you enlisted Dr. Leon Morehead to interview him today.”