“I’m telling you, you should be looking for Finton,” Ellie said. “Cord wouldn’t hurt me.”
“We’re issuing an all-points bulletin for him and his son Roy,” the sheriff replied, clearly annoyed at her defense of McClain.
“Let me talk to Cord,” Ellie said.
“He’s in an interrogation room. Stay here, Ellie.” Sheriff Waters disappeared through the double doors that led to the interrogation rooms and holding cells.
After hesitating for a second, clearly recovering from her ordeal, Ellie took off after the sheriff. “I want to watch the interview.”
Dammit to hell, she is stubborn, Derrick thought as he followed her. The first interrogation room was open, so they went to the second and Ellie knocked.
The sheriff opened the door. Cord was already handcuffed and seated at a table, his expression sullen.
“I want to be in there,” Ellie said, trying to push past the sheriff.
“No way,” Bryce said, blocking her entrance. “I know you two are friends. I’ll handle this.”
Cord didn’t even look up.
“I’m going to sit in,” Derrick said, clearing his throat. “I have information that might be helpful.”
Ellie’s face paled as she looked at him, but he couldn’t apologize for doing his job. He was just following the evidence. If McClain had anything to do with the Weekday Killer murders, he had to be stopped.
“Turn on the camera so I can observe in the other room,” Ellie said through clenched teeth.
Bryce tensed, but nodded in concession.
“Cord is not the Weekday Killer,” she said with as much conviction as she could muster.
“This is why women shouldn’t be cops. You let your emotions get in the way,” the sheriff said sharply.
“It’s not emotion. It’s instinct,” Ellie said with a glare.
Her comeback made Bryce’s eyes flare with anger. Saying nothing, Derrick followed the sheriff into the room while Ellie spun around and headed to take her place and watch.
Waters claimed the chair opposite McClain, but Derrick remained standing.
“All right, Cord,” the sheriff began. “What the hell happened today?”
“Ellie wanted to go to Finton’s funeral home,” Cord’s expression was as flat as his voice. “I went with her. We got jumped from behind.” He rubbed his head. “When I came to, Agent Fox was there shouting Ellie’s name, and I finally roused.”
Walking over to Cord, Derrick stared down at him.
“We know about your foster family, the Fintons. Felix Finton told your caseworker about how you enjoyed dressing the female bodies.”
Silence engulfed the room, tension building.
“Did you take your habit of playing with dead bodies to the next level and start murdering women?”
McClain hissed between his teeth but said nothing. He just folded and unfolded his hands, staring into his lap.
“We checked. Finton’s has been closed for renovations for the past two weeks, like the sign said.” Derrick slapped his palms on the table. McClain didn’t flinch. “Have you been hiding the bodies at the funeral home after you murder the women, then returning to move them when you’re ready for them to be found? Is that why you have blood under your fingernails?”
Curling his fingers into fists, Cord remained silent.
“Come on, McClain, talk to us,” the sheriff said. “You were caught red-handed in that home. Now we know you’re a pervert.”
Rage burned in Cord’s eyes. Derrick thought he was going to jump up and grab Bryce, but he wheezed out a breath instead.
“Your print was found on Shondra’s vehicle,” Derrick said. “Tell us where Shondra is and if she’s still alive, and we might help you out.”
Cord’s brows furrowed and he went very still. Either he was surprised that the print was his or surprised that he’d been caught, Derrick reasoned.
“Why would I take Shondra?” he finally said.
“You tell us,” Derrick said. “And while you’re at it, tell us where you were on the nights of these killings.” He laid a photograph of each victim on the table.
Staring at the pictures, Cord’s expression was a mask of barely controlled emotion. But he didn’t respond, remaining tight-lipped.
The sheriff stood abruptly, pushed away from the table, circled around and wrenched Cord from the chair. “You don’t want to talk, fine. Maybe a night in a cell will change your mind,” he said, dragging him from the room.
Derrick followed them into the hallway, where Ellie rushed toward them, a mixture of disbelief and panic on her face.
“Bryce, let me talk to him,” she said.
The sheriff shook his head. “No way. Go home, Ellie. I’ve got this,” he said, shoving McClain through another set of doors to the cells in back.
As Ellie clenched her hands by her side, Derrick saw the blood on her fingers and his stomach twisted. If McClain had done that to Ellie, he felt like killing the man.
“Cord might talk to me if Bryce would just let him,” Ellie said, her tone full of angst.
“If he is innocent, why isn’t he defending himself?” Derrick asked. “Why not answer my questions?”
Ellie pressed her lips into a thin line.
“I’ll drive you home, Ellie. You need rest,” Derrick said. “Then I’m going to get a search warrant and search McClain’s house tonight. If you’re right, there may be something there that can exclude him, or, if my gut is right, there could be something to tell us where Shondra is.”
“I’ll go with you,” she replied. “If something’s there, I need to see it for myself.”
Ninety-Seven
River’s Edge
Denial stabbed at Ellie as she drove to Cord’s. Gray skies promised a deluge at any minute, painting the woods in an oppressive gray. Though she wanted to take her own car, Derrick insisted on driving in case she was concussed.
Being locked in that coffin reminded her of just how much she didn’t want to have to bury her mother. She made a quick call to her father on the way. “Hey, Dad.”
“It’s good to hear your voice,” her father said. “I miss you, El.”
Emotions overwhelmed her, but she swallowed them back. “I don’t have much time. We’re working the case, but I wanted to check on Mom.”
“Her vitals aren’t good, honey. They’re doing all kinds of tests. She might need open heart surgery.”
That was a scary thought. “When will you know?”
“Hopefully in the next few hours. I’ll call when I hear.” He hesitated. “And thanks for calling. I’ll tell your mother. It might cheer her up.”
Ellie hung up, her heart in her throat. Damn her parents for lying to her. Damn Paulson for setting fire to their house.
Damn Bryce for not allowing her to speak to Cord. He’d worked with the ranger on rescue missions and had to know in his gut that Cord wouldn’t kill anyone, much less commit multiple murders––or hurt her.
Something was going on here, something that wasn’t right. It was almost like the killer was lobbing grenades at her with clues pointing to different suspects. Was that part of his game?