At the moment, Ellie relished the solitude, although being alone with her thoughts could be a scary place.
Her mind kept turning to her birth parents. If she decided to search for them, who knew what she might find? Randall and Vera had seemed to love her, yet they’d kept secrets from her that had destroyed so many innocent lives.
How would total strangers feel?
Shivering as raindrops pinged off her waterproof jacket, she darted around a bend, using her knife to cut through the tangled vines that clawed at her feet like sharp tentacles. Stumbling over a rotting tree root, she pitched forward, getting caught in a mass of brambles. Thorns stabbed her palms, puncturing her skin and drawing blood as she righted herself and crossed over a fallen pine.
Dragging a handkerchief from her pocket, she dabbed at the beads of blood and plucked several thorns from her aching palms. Thunder boomed and lightning zigzagged across the perpetually gray sky, a deluge of more rain descending. Ignoring her throbbing calf muscles, she ran up the hill. A coyote howled in the distance. The fading sun and trees closing around her resurrected her fear of the dark, a fear that had begun when Hiram imprisoned her in the cave when she was small.
Pushing away the encroaching fear, she hiked on, searching for peace and answers that might not ever come.
Shadows flitted through the forest like black fireflies. She found one shelter, but it was infested with mice and nearby a group of hillbillies were drunk on moonshine, so she trudged on. Locals whispered of plants that strangled folks as they wove through the thick bush and untraveled terrain. Other foliage grew so dense it camouflaged the deep ravines and drop-offs, creating traps to ensnare a body in the dangerous hollows below, where they might disappear forever, never to be found.
Ellie climbed higher and higher, over the hill, and followed the narrow path toward the clearing where the pond lay. There she could pitch a tent for the night.
Suddenly a gust of wind stirred the leaves and brought raindrops from the treetops, something yellow fluttering to the ground at her feet as she made it over the hillcrest. Ellie paused, stooping to see what it was.
A daffodil.
The small yellow flower petal was damp and wilted. Another fluttered to her feet, followed by another. The soft swishing of the creek against the rocks echoed in the silence, and she peered through the fog towards the water. On the bank beneath a live oak, she thought she saw something… or someone.
Curious, she pulled her flashlight and shined it across the foliage and ground as she maneuvered her way toward the sea of yellow ahead.
As she neared, she had the uncanny sense that she wasn’t alone. Pivoting, she scanned the woods. The sound of insects, frogs croaking, and the falling rain filled the muggy air.
Then she realized she was right––she wasn’t alone.
Eight
For a moment, Ellie simply stood, staring at the sight with a sickening, hollow feeling in her gut. She’d set out on the trail for peace, to decide what to do with her life, and to forget the grisly memory of the children’s graves imprinted in her mind.
And now a young woman had been left here. It was no accident either. Judging from the deep slash on her throat, she’d been murdered. Even more disturbing was the way she was posed, laid out on the bed of flowers with a vine full of thorns wrapped around her neck, her hands in prayer.
Rocking back on her heels, Ellie’s instincts kicked in, and she pulled her weapon from her pack and turned in a wide arc, searching the area. Leaves rustled, and tree limbs dipped and swayed from the force of the wind. Creek water gurgled over the rocks, spilling onto the bank, flooding caused by the recent snowstorm.
Slowly inching closer to the scene, she kept her gun at the ready, pivoting and scanning her surroundings and the woods beyond. Even with the sound of a coyote howling and rain drizzling, an eerie quiet enveloped the area, and the wind brought the pungent blend of wildflowers and brutal death.
She had to call this in. Get the Medical Examiner and an Evidence Response Team out here ASAP.
She had to get back to work, even if she wasn’t ready.
Heart hammering, she radioed Cord. As a ranger with Search and Rescue, he worked odd hours and might not be on duty now. Hell, he might not even answer. During the last case, Derrick––FBI Special Agent Fox––had practically accused Cord of being involved in the Ghost’s murders. When Ellie had asked Cord about it, he’d shut down, hurt that she hadn’t trusted him.
But he was damn good at his job, and even if he was pissed at her, if someone needed help, he’d come.
Static crackled and popped, the wind rattling the airwaves. Finally, his voice echoed back.
“Ranger McClain, SAR.”
“Cord, it’s Ellie—”
“I’m working,” he said in a clipped tone.
“Good. I need you to come to the Reflection Pond.”
After an awkward pause, he heaved a breath. “What’s wrong?”
Her chest clenched at the sight of the jagged red slash across the woman’s neck. “I… found a body.”
A hushed silence fell between them, the coyote’s howl growing more eerie in the quiet.
“Did you hear me?” Ellie asked.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “A hiker? Accident?”
“No accident,” Ellie said. “It’s a woman, Cord. She’s been murdered.” Her detective’s brain finally overrode her emotions. “Request an ERT, the ME and a recovery team. We need to process her body and look for evidence before the rain kicks in again.”
“Copy that,” Cord said in a husky voice. “Did you see the killer?”
The concern in his voice gave her hope that he didn’t totally hate her. “I don’t see anyone,” she replied. “Judging from the scene, she’s probably been here a while.”
Already petals had come loose and were floating in the pond, wilted and turning brown.
The radio crackled. “I’ll call it in and be there ASAP.”
Plunged into silence, Ellie pulled her camera from her pack, snapping pictures of the ground near the mound of flowers, the brush, and the trees that stood with their branches pointing toward the heavens, like natural grave markers.
Treading carefully, she aimed her flashlight at the ground in search of footprints or other forensics, but if the killer had left prints, the rain had already washed them away.
With so many hikers en route now, it would be hard to identify a specific print. Still, if forensics found one near the body, they’d certainly try.
Careful not to contaminate the scene, she inched closer to the body. The woman looked to be in her mid-twenties. She had silky blonde hair, and her skin had a faint blue tint although it appeared whoever had killed her had applied makeup: bright-blue eye shadow and reddish-orange blusher.
Then there was the lipstick. Bright red, the color of blood.
Even with the thorny bramble wrapped around her neck, Ellie could see a jagged knife wound had ripped her from ear to ear. She had to have bled a lot, but the killer had clearly cleaned it up, covering the slash mark with the vines.
She was striking, beautiful actually. But the olive dress, her plain clipped nails and simple black shoes made her look drab. It was as if she was dressed for church, yet she had been left exposed in the wilderness where she could be ravaged by animals, her body decomposing with the elements.