The fact that the Weekday Killer sewed the victims’ mouths shut as a mortician would do wasn’t lost on Derrick. There was no telling what atrocities McClain had seen––or done––growing up living above a funeral home.
He’d also led Ellie to the second victim. “McClain, what made you think of this place?” Derrick asked.
The ranger cut his brooding eyes toward Derrick. “Ellie told me about the rhyme, so I looked at the map. This place is known around these parts for mourners who want to grieve the loss of their loved one.”
“Isn’t there some legend about the tears forming the falls?” Ellie asked.
Cord gave a small shrug, then hacked at the overgrown path to clear their way up the hill. “Some say that the overhang from the falls used to be dry until three teenagers years ago formed a suicide pact and jumped to their deaths.” His voice turned gruff. “Supposedly the families and the girls’ classmates joined here for a prayer vigil, and there were so many tears shed that it looked like a waterfall. Ever since then the waterfalls run and pool in the gorge below.”
They stepped over a rocky creek bed, where the water was so clear you could see minnows swimming below, and a nest of turtles on the muddy bank. As they climbed the next hill, black-eyed Susans sprang up along the path, and a sudden breeze stirred the scent of honeysuckle and something murky, like a dead animal.
Ellie’s breath punctuated the air as they climbed the last incline and she came to an abrupt halt. She stopped so suddenly Derrick almost ran into her.
“This is it,” Ellie said in a strained voice.
Derrick glanced over her shoulder and saw the base of the falls, water dripping over the ridge below and splashing into the pool beneath. A sea of yellow covered the ground, and beside the pool of water lay another woman on a bed of daffodils.
Forty-Five
“It’s not Shondra,” Ellie said breathlessly.
No, this woman was a redhead. Medium build, with freckled ivory skin that looked ghostly against the stark blackness of her dress.
Guilt at her relief that the woman wasn’t Shondra seized Ellie, and immediately she took in the details of the scene. Just as before, daffodil petals dotted the body and the woman’s hands were folded in prayer fashion, yet this time the slash on her throat was more jagged. The makeup had escalated too––the killer had painted red streaks down her cheeks, as if she was crying blood.
He’d also left her dress open at the top, revealing a dark purple bruise. Leaning closer to examine it, she realized he’d carved the shape of a heart into her chest.
“Look at that, Derrick.”
His brows rose. “Maybe a tattoo, and he removed it.”
“Maybe.” Or maybe he was escalating to torture. Ellie laid two fingers against the woman’s skin and went still. “Her body is cool, but not completely cold.” Pulling her weapon, Ellie pivoted to scan the surrounding area. “She hasn’t been dead long. He might still be somewhere in the woods.”
Derrick grabbed his gun from his holster, surveying the area. There was a noise from somewhere, leaves rustling, twigs snapping.
Ellie gestured to Cord. “Stay here and call it in.” She motioned to both men that she was going to search the area, then craned her neck as she inched further up the hill. The ash trees and red oaks shrouded the sunlight, making it hard to see, but the movement of foliage broke the silence.
Charging forward, she tripped over a tree stump, but grabbed a vine to keep from tumbling down the ravine. Derrick was close behind her, his movements as stealthy as a cat’s.
Ellie reached a section where the creek was overflowing again. There was no time to take the long way around, so she trudged through the ankle-deep frigid water, shivering as a bone-deep cold seeped through her.
Peering ahead, she spotted movement. It was a tall figure, with broad shoulders. A man wearing a black ski cap. But he was so fast she couldn’t distinguish any details.
Snatching a tree limb, she hoisted herself up a steep incline, hoping for a better vantage point. A few more feet, and she’d reach the crest of the hill, where she’d hopefully be able to catch a glimpse of his face.
But just as she latched onto a vine to swing herself across the ravine, which fell a good seventy-five feet below, a shot rang out. The bullet pinged by Ellie’s head, then another one zinged, snapping past her. Derrick cursed as he ducked. Using her feet, she swung her body in an attempt to propel herself to the other side. Another bullet skimmed her hand, the sound vibrating in her ears, and the vine slipped between her fingers.
Flailing to hang on, her body swung back and forth, and she attempted to jump back onto the ground beside Derrick. He lurched to his knees, firing at the shooter, who’d run up the hill.
Her feet finally connected with vines and weeds, and she released the vine in her hand, but she missed the edge and hit the side. Frantically trying to slow her descent, she tucked her body and curled on her side, rolling down the hill.
As she descended, her vision blurred and she crashed headfirst into a jagged rock.
Forty-Six
“Ellie!” Derrick’s heart raced as she slammed against the boulder. For a second, she lay so still, he thought she’d passed out. His foot skidded on the ledge, sending rocks crumbling down, and he barely stopped himself from toppling down the hill himself.
Ellie lifted her head slightly, yelling for him to go after the man. He sprinted up the next hill, pushing through weeds and brush, shoving tree branches aside as he scanned the woods for the shooter. A shift of the bushes to the right caught his eye, and he veered around a cluster of rocks. Behind him, the sound of vultures hissing and grunting filled the silence.
Sweat trickled down his neck as he ran, his gun at the ready as he examined the landscape. His boots pounded the foliage, snapping twigs and sticks, the soggy ground near the creek sucking at his feet like quicksand.
Before he could land a clean shot, another bullet pinged toward him. He ducked behind a pine, swung his gun up and fired at the shooter. Chasing the shadowy figure, he maneuvered from one tree to the next until he reached the crest. A trail led to the left.
Suddenly the sound of a motor firing up rent the air, and he rushed toward the source.
It was an ATV. Dammit. Although the NPS protected the wilderness and vehicles were illegal on the trail, some sections were so deserted that people used them anyway.
Darting ahead, he aimed his gun, but another bullet narrowly missed his cheek, thudding into a tree trunk next to him and sending wood splinters into his face. He kept moving.
Just as he reached the clearing, the ATV sped into the dense woods ahead. He fired another round at the shooter, but he was too far away.
A second later, he disappeared in a cloud of dust.
Forty-Seven
Battling a wave of dizziness, Ellie pushed herself to a sitting position. She swiped at the blood trickling down her forehead, then wiped the residue on her pants.
Blinking to clear her vision, she inhaled several deep breaths, struggling to stand. The ground swayed, the world foggy, so she grabbed a tree limb to steady herself, then judged the distance up the hill. A steep incline, but she thought she could make it.