Page 43 of The Sleeping Girls

She felt like her life was unraveling around her now just like that thread.

Still, June admired her grandma. She might not have graduated high school but she had the kind of talent you didn’t get from book learning.

“Sure, Grandma, I’ll help you,” she murmured and gave her grandma a hug. She’d have been lost to the foster system after her parents died if her mother’s mother hadn’t taken her in.

Her grandmother gave her arm a squeeze, then waddled down the hall. June picked up her plate, scraped the uneaten food in the trash and carried it to the sink. She quickly rinsed it, put it in the dishwasher and then cleaned the skillet.

Her stomach churning, she slumped on the couch and called Ruby. Her hands felt clammy with sweat as she waited for Ruby to answer, but the phone went to voicemail, so she left a message.

“Rubes, call me, please. I’m worried about you.”

She bit her bottom lip with her teeth as fear took hold. It wasn’t like Ruby not to respond.

Ruby’s mama worked late at night. Brought strange men home. Sometimes she didn’t come home at all.

Had Ruby been home alone all night? What if something had happened to her like it had Kelsey?

She glanced at the clock on the wall as her grandmother returned with her purse. She waved goodbye. “See you later. Now be sure to stay inside and keep the doors locked.”

“Okay.” June waved and waited until her grandmother’s car rolled down the drive. Her grandma would be gone for a while. Preacher was long-winded and always went over. And the church ladies could make the buffet last for hours.

Making a snap decision, she snatched her rain jacket from the hook by the door, pulled it on, stuffed her phone in her pocket and dashed out the door. She’d check on Ruby herself and be back without her grandma ever knowing she’d left the house.

FORTY-FIVE

BOULDER CREEK

Adrenaline pumped through him as he maneuvered the switchbacks. He had to swerve to steer around a pothole then jerked the wheel to the right to avoid a deer that shot out of nowhere. The cloud cover created ghostly black shadows above the ridges, the bare trees swaying with the force of the wind.

He heard Ruby thrashing around in the trunk of his car and cursed. If someone heard the commotion, they might call it in.

He could not get caught.

Knowing he was closer to his own place than the house where he planned to leave her, he sped onto the road leading toward it. The boulders and ridges of the mountains surrounded his nest, sheltering him from outsiders. Creek water gurgled in the background as he pulled down his drive, parked then strode to the back of his vehicle. When he opened the trunk, Ruby was kicking and trying to untie her hands. Her scream was muffled by the rag he’d stuffed in her mouth, her terror palpable.

He grabbed the chloroform he’d bought, doused another rag with it then pressed it over her face. She pushed at him with her bound hands, kicking and flailing, but the drug finally dragged her into unconsciousness.

He opened his duffel bag with the sheets and teddy bear to set the scene, laughing as he imagined her mother’s reaction. Torturing her with the picture would be worth sacrificing Ruby.

FORTY-SIX

BACKWATER’S EDGE

In spite of the chilly wind, June was sweating as she cut through the woods to Ruby’s trailer. A sick feeling crawled up her spine like icy fingers raking over her.

A dog howled from somewhere close by and the smell of rotting garbage hit her. Her stomach roiled. At first, Ruby hadn’t wanted any of them to see where she lived. The yards were littered with trash, the weeds overgrown. Her mama was the worst kind of housekeeper and the tiny trailer overflowed with junk that Mrs. Pruitt never threw out. Stacks of dusty magazines, knickknacks, old makeup, and boxes of junk she’d bought at the thrift store were everywhere.

At one time, Ruby said she’d counted fifty-two cans of tuna fish in the small pantry. And that was just the tuna fish. Other outdated canned goods filled the shelves along with homemade canned vegetables that, judging from whatever was growing inside them, had probably been there years.

Her mama was home, June realized as she spotted the rusted Chevy in the graveled drive. A black pick-up with muddy tires sat next to it.

She had company. June shivered. Ruby hated her mother’s friends, especially the men who slept over. More than one ofthem had given her the creeps by brushing up against her and cornering her. Another had grabbed her wrist and even left a bruise when she’d yanked her arm away from him. She’d taken to hiding in her room or running to June’s or Kelsey’s house some mornings to avoid them.

June halted at the door and called Ruby’s phone again, but it went straight to voicemail. Worry made her clench her teeth, and she braced herself for Ruby’s mother as she raised her fist and knocked. She hunched her shoulders against the wind as raindrops splashed the ground from the trees. A black cat darted past the house with a loud screech, another one chasing it.

June knocked again, scanning the yard and hoping Ruby would run around from the back so June wouldn’t have to face her mother. She was sloppy and rude when she’d been drinking, which was most of the time.

A thin man wearing baggy jeans and a holey T-shirt opened the door, a sleeve of tattoos covering his hairy arms. He reeked of beer and cigarettes. His glassy eyes barely flitted over June and he grunted as if she was in his way, then he shouldered past her and stumbled to his truck.

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