Page 33 of The Sleeping Girls

Voices from the trailer broke through the wind as Ruby’s mother flung the front door open and turned, shouting at Ruby.

“You damn little slut,” her mother shouted. “Showing off your body online!”

“But Mama,” Ruby cried. “I—”

“Shut up. I wish I’d never had you.”

Mrs. Pruitt ran down the cement steps wearing her uniform of a mini skirt and tank top, cursing and calling Ruby all kinds of vile names. Ruby burst into tears, which mingled with the rain on her reddening cheeks.

He almost felt sorry for the girl. She deserved better than that woman as her mother.

He’d been watching her off and on for weeks now and had seen Ruby help her mother stagger into the house and into the bed countless times. Had seen a couple of her lovers corner Ruby. One even grabbed her arm, but Ruby had kicked him then ran into her room and locked the door. Later that night, her mother had fussed at her. Told her she’d messed up her night and next time to be nice to her friends.

And now the pictures were revealed and the challenge to break the virgin pact had been issued, it wouldn’t be long until she turned into her mother.

Mrs. Pruitt’s old Chevy spat mud as she sped from the driveway and onto the road, and Ruby swiped at her wet face, then dragged her feet as she went back inside the dive where she lived.

He started to move forward, but a noise to the right made him duck behind the trees. The old woman who lived across from Ruby must have heard the commotion; she had meandered onto her porch and was watching Ruby’s trailer.

He tugged his rain hood over his head and found cover. He had all night. He’d wait till the old biddy went back inside.

Then Ruby would be his.

THIRTY-FOUR

CABINS ON THE RIVER

Derrick gripped his phone tightly in his hand as he let himself into his cabin. “Listen, Lindsey, we caught a case,” he said. “A teenager has disappeared here.”

“Sorry to hear that, Derrick, but the kids were hoping you could come over tonight.”

Derrick gritted his teeth and counted to ten. He loved his godchildren to the moon and back and was grateful Lindsey had finally come around and stopped blaming him for her husband—his friend—Rick’s suicide. “I can’t. I have to search the girl’s computer. You know every minute a child is missing decreases the chances of finding them alive.”

“I know. I just want to make it up to you for the other night.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Forget it. It was nothing.”

The memory played through his mind in vivid clarity. He’d taken the kids for ice cream then stopped to drop them off. Lately, Lindsey had him on speed dial and this time she’d begged him to come in for a drink.

“I’m just so lonely,” she said as she poured him a whiskey and herself a tall glass of Merlot.

“What about your girlfriends?” he asked.

“Their husbands all worked with Rick,” she said. “I… It’s just hard being around them.”

He understood. Sort of. She hadn’t wanted to be near him when she first lost Rick.

Debating how to respond, he sipped his whiskey and before he knew it, was tucking the kids in bed. When he came down the stairs, Lindsey clasped his hand and pulled him onto the sofa.

Then she tried to kiss him.

That had come as a shock, and he’d bolted up and walked to the door. He stood there, shaken. Then she burst into tears.

“You’re so good with the kids,” she said. “We’d be good together, too.”

He shook his head. There was no way he could be with his best friend’s wife. He wasn’t a replacement for Rick. And he told her that.

Her tears came hard and fast and she shouted at him to leave.

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