Page 96 of Widow Lake

The minute the challenge had been issued, he’d known who he’d take. She’d been so beautiful, so quiet. Unaware of his draw to her.

Like the others, she’d ignored him. He’d asked her out but she’d looked right past him and given him a hard no.

That hard no sealed her fate.

He’d waited until midnight. The moon had been full then, too. Then he’d snuck into her apartment. He could still see the fear in those big beautiful blue eyes. Hear the shrill lilt of her scream as she’d tried to get away.

He hadn’t known she had a child.

The woman screamed. The baby in the crib screamed.

He’d raised the knife…

ONE HUNDRED SEVENTEEN

KNIGHTS

Derrick contemplated Ellie’s theory about an initiation as he parked at the bar where the suspects met to play chess.

Now they just had to prove that theory. And find the men responsible before the body count climbed higher.

The gray stone building was set on the top of Widow Peak overlooking one of the highest parts of the mountain. It reminded Derrick of a castle in ancient times. Woods shrouded the property, adding to the ominous feel, but the parking lot was packed with cars, SUVs and trucks.

“You don’t actually think they’d meet in a public place like this, do you?” Deputy Landrum asked.

“Hiding in plain sight could be part of their game,” Derrick said. “Or a place to stalk new prey.”

Landrum nodded, quietly scanning the lot as they walked up to the entrance. Derrick didn’t know the deputy well but according to Ellie, he was a whiz with the tech side and that skill was invaluable, especially with social media and so many crime scenes to analyze.

Inside, the bar was dark and gloomy with the scent of cigar smoke drifting through the vents. The décor looked like something out of ancient times itself. Artwork displayed scenes of the Knights of the Round Table, with framed articles describing the legends and history of King Arthur. Others featured medieval knights—Richard Lionheart, the middle-ages warrior king, William Marshal, England’s greatest medieval knight, and Joan of Arc.

A full-sized replica of a knight in shining armor anchored the place with historical details, yet oddly the music piped from the speakers on the wall was contemporary.

A few of the students took notice of him and the uniformed deputy, and Derrick realized they were leery of cops.

“Canvass the room and show pics of our suspects,” he told Landrum. “See if someone’s seen any of our persons of interest. I’ll talk to the bartender then take a look around.”

Landrum nodded and accessed the photographs they’d all downloaded on their cells. Derrick crossed the room, then gestured to the bartender and—judging from the plaque on the wall—the owner, Antwaun Drake. The guy was in his thirties and looked a little rough around the edges, with choppy brown hair, tats of medieval symbols snaking up and down his arms and a Celtic knot earring on his left earlobe.

“You drinking or asking questions?” the bartender asked with a skeptical frown.

“Asking.” Derrick angled his phone toward the guy. “Do you recognize any of these men?” First, he showed him a picture of Dominique Radcliff.

“Sure. He’s that escaped serial killer,” Drake said. “Haven’t seen him though or I’d have called the cops.”

Next, a picture of Professor Pockley. “What about this man? His name is Roland Pockley. He’s a professor of zoology at the college.”

The bartender gestured around at the clientele. “College staff usually don’t hang out here. Bad for business.”

“Drake, the beer?” a customer called.

Drake filled a mug and Derrick glanced at a thin man with glasses staggering toward the corner in the back.

“How long have you run the bar?” Derrick asked after Drake slid the beer to the customer.

Drake’s green eyes reminded Derrick of a feral cat’s. “Opened it about twelve years ago. College needed a place for students who weren’t jocks or into the Greek scene.” He shrugged, revealing a crooked front tooth, as he indicated the packed bar. “Turns out I was right.”

Derrick showed him a photo of Waycross. “Do you remember this man?”

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