Page 37 of The Sleeping Girls

Car lights flickered across the dirt drive. Hope speared her. Maybe they’d see her. Help her.

But her attacker dragged her between the trees and shoved a rag over her mouth. She smelled something strong, like acetone.

She yanked at the man’s hands, but suddenly the world blurred and she sagged to the ground. She tasted mud just before the world faded into darkness.

THIRTY-NINE

CROOKED CREEK POLICE DEPARTMENT

Sunday

Dawn broke with no news of Kelsey.

Ellie strode into the conference room for the debriefing she’d called, anxious and exhausted from lack of sleep. All night she’d wondered where the killer had left Kelsey’s body and if she’d ever find her. The Tillers needed that, needed closure.

Captain Hale, Derrick, Deputy Eastwood and Sheriff Bryce Waters filed into the conference room minutes later. Cord loped in with coffees for everyone.

“Lola sent this over, said she was up early baking.” He dropped a bag of pastries on the counter along the far wall at the coffee station.

Ellie bit her tongue, fighting resentment. Lola was the perfect little woman. And she would be the perfect mother. Ellie should be happy for Cord. He deserved that kind of love.

Bryce’s jaw hardened and he looked down at his hands, which she noticed had a slight tremble.

Was he drinking again?

“I’m all in,” Shondra said as she grabbed one of the coffees then dug in the bag and chose a cinnamon roll.

“Nice of Lola,” Ellie said, regaining her composure. “It was a long day yesterday. Probably going to be another.”

The sheriff nodded. “You need to do a press conference, El,” he said quietly. “People are already starting to spread rumors at the café.”

Ellie grimaced. Meddlin’ Maude was probably the leader of the pack. But he was right. She had to inform the public of the facts. “I’ll give a statement when we finish here.”

Captain Hale grabbed a cheese croissant and walked toward the door. “I’ll arrange it now.”

Cord snatched a coffee and muffin for himself and took a seat. Everyone else followed suit and joined him at the table. She glanced at the clock on the wall.

Eight o’clock sharp. Where was Deputy Landrum? Typically, he was the first to arrive.

Didn’t matter. She had to get started.

On the whiteboard, she displayed a copy of the photograph of the girls in the locker room then the picture of the virgin pact, and the meme with the balloon words depicting the countdown for Christmas. “These were posted Friday night and Kelsey called Mitch Drummond upset, leading us first to think Kelsey might have run away.”

In another column, she listed the people they’d questioned and their comments, then attached the picture of Kelsey the Tillers had received.

“This morning, we’re working on the theory that Kelsey was abducted. And judging from the picture the Tillers received, that she was murdered.”

A collective rumble of shocked reactions followed. Cord’s look darkened and Shondra gasped softly.

“The FBI’s cyber team is analyzing the photo the Tillers received and trying to pinpoint who it came from,” Ellie said.

Footsteps sounded and then the deputy’s voice as he entered. “Sorry I’m late.”

Landrum’s eyes looked bloodshot, his sandy-blond hair mussed as if he hadn’t bothered to comb it, and beard stubble grazed his jaw.

His gaze landed on the photo on the board with a flicker of unease. She’d never seen the deputy emotional but she could have sworn he was upset.

“I checked into the Tillers’ financials,” Deputy Landrum said. “Nothing out of the ordinary, middle-class income. No bad investments or recent big withdrawals. No hidden money or offshore accounts.”

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