“Mr. Wheaton,” she said in a neutral tone. She had no idea if he was part of this homicide, child abduction plan or not and wanted to extract as much information as possible from the man. “Officer Patrick,” she said as the probation officer seated herself beside Wheaton.
Wheaton shifted, his scarred hands folded on the table. “I can explain. But I know I’m an ex-con and you aren’t going to believe me.”
Ellie leaned back in her chair and sipped her water. “Try me.”
Wheaton glanced at Officer Patrick. “You might as well speak up. You’re already in trouble for missing your curfew,” Patrick said.
Wheaton scrubbed a hand over his shaved head. “I’m sorry, but I thought it was a life-and-death situation.”
“Please explain,” Ellie said. “I’m aware you confessed to killing your wife, Mr. Wheaton. Why don’t you don’t you start there?”
“That’s the part you won’t believe,” Wheaton said.
“Listen to me. I’ve been hunting a man who’s killed three young women and attempted to kill another tonight. And two little children are missing.” She spread her hands open. “I’m open to whatever you have to say. I just want to save the little girls and any more young women he’s targeting.” She leaned forward, arms crossed. “These girls died on the same ridge where your wife did. Are you telling me that’s a coincidence?”
Wheaton chewed the inside of his cheek then clicked his teeth. “I don’t think so.”
Ellie arched a brow. “Then what do you think? Did you have something to do with it?”
“No.” Wheaton pulled a hand down his chin. “God, no.”
His blunt answer rang of sincerity.
“Then why were you at Midnight Ridge Lodge tonight?”
His chest heaved up and down, his breathing heavy. “Because I think my son may be involved and I wanted to stop him.”
Ellie tamped down a reaction. “Why do you think that?”
Wheaton gave his parole officer a sideways glance. Patrick nodded, then Wheaton continued. “Because my wife always claimed he was mentally disturbed and violent. And when I heard about the murders at the ridge, it brought it all back.”
“But you confessed to murder,” Ellie said. “Why?”
“Because I was afraid. Some neighbors thought Wally was a bad seed, and I thought one of them might accuse Wally of killing my wife. The sheriff wanted someone to blame so I…” He dropped his face into his hands on a groan. “I took the fall to protect Wally so he’d have a good life. But now if he’s… killing these girls, he needs to be stopped.”
A knock sounded at the door, jarring Ellie from the shock of his admission. “El,” Cord said. “Deputy Eastwood sent a radio SOS. I think there’s trouble at Sanctuary House.”
Ellie’s pulse hammered as she stood abruptly. “Sit tight, Wheaton. This is not over.”
Not until she caught the real unsub.
And now she had a name.
ONE HUNDRED SEVEN
Sanctuary House
Ellie phoned Derrick to fill him in on the latest turn while she and Cord drove to Sanctuary House. “How’s Dana Jo?”
“She’s traumatized and dehydrated but her mother is with her now. She’s really worried about her daughter but says Dana Jo has remembered what happened to her when she was abducted and found unconscious.”
“She was sexually assaulted,” Ellie filled in.
“Yes. And now she can describe her assailant. It was the attorney who handled her DUI charges. She says he drugged her water bottle in her car, then after she left the Shake ’n’ Shack she had car trouble, ran off the road and he took her from there.”
“But Wheaton said his son’s name was Wally,” Ellie said. “And the attorney is Will Whittaker.”
“He could have changed his name to leave his past behind for his law practice,” Derrick said.
