Page 50 of The Sleeping Girls

The deputy took the computer from her and headed back to his squad car just as Cord returned looking grim-faced, Benji by his side. Derrick was on his heels but the two men stood at least a foot apart and hadn’t seemed to acknowledge one another.

“ERT is finishing up,” Derrick said.

“Anything in the woods, Cord?” Ellie asked.

“The tire marks lead about four miles north and stop at the road. From there, he could have gone any direction.”

“Damn,” Ellie muttered. They needed a break.

June stood and walked toward her on shaky legs. “Detective?”

Ellie forced a calming voice. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“I should go home. My grandmother will be back from lunch and she’ll be worried if I’m not there.”

“Okay, I’ll run you over,” Ellie said. “I need to speak with your grandmother anyway.”

Now June had a target on her back, there was no way she’d leave her alone and vulnerable. She stepped over to relay her plan to Derrick and Cord. “I’m going to ask the sheriff to put a guard on June and her grandmother.”

“I’ll stay here until the ERT finishes,” Derrick offered.

“Call me if you need anything else,” Cord said, his voice thick as his gaze met hers.

Unspoken words lingered in his tone, but she simply nodded.

The wind whipped his shaggy brown hair around his rugged face as he walked to his truck. When he reached the vehicle, he paused and turned to look back at her. It took every ounce of Ellie’s restraint not to yell at him to stop, to say they needed to talk.

But Derrick was watching her intently, Cord had a baby on the way and she had a case to solve. Families who needed her.

Cord didn’t. He was having one of his own.

“June, stay here with Special Agent Fox while I talk to Ruby’s mama for a minute, then we’ll go.” She ducked back inside the trailer, the musty smell assaulting her as she made her way toward the kitchen.

Ruby’s mother wasn’t at the table. She called out her name and walked down the hall, expecting to find the woman crying in her room. Instead, she was passed out on the bed, the tumbler of liquor spilled across the bedding and dripping onto the dingy carpet.

FIFTY-THREE

CROOKED CREEK POLICE DEPARTMENT

The images of the girls posed as if they were sleeping with that white teddy bear in their arms played through Heath’s mind like a horror show. Anna Marie had had a white teddy bear she’d named Snowflake.

The years fell away as if he was thrust back in time.

Thunder clapped. Rain pounded the roof. The walls shook with the force of the wind.

He heard his daddy shouting. “What the hell have you done, Digger? Get off her!”

Heath jumped from his bed, certain he was having a nightmare. The room was dark and he stumbled as he ran into the hall. A low dark wail echoed from Anna Marie’s room. He froze, body shaking. What was going on?

“You’re a monster,” his father screamed. “You killed her!”

Fear bolted through Heath as he peeked in his sister’s room. Lightning zigzagged across the sky, visible through the window. His father stood by Anna Marie’s bed. Digger was leaning over Anna Marie, a pillow clenched in his hands.

Anna Marie—even though she was his big sister, she’d always been thin and seemed frail. Now she wasn’t moving.

“You killed her!” His father shoved Digger backward, knocking him to the floor.

Digger’s head hit the corner. His eyes looked glassy. His breath came out in pants.

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