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Ella had a right to reveal the truth. After all, if her husband was a murderer, she could be a potential target. Ripley wouldn’t approve, but this woman’s safety overshadowed Ripley’s opinions.
“Miss Pierce, we believe your husband may be linked to a series of homicides in the area.”
The wife clasped one hand over her mouth and shifted her weight to one side of her body. She grabbed the door for support.
“Homicides? Murders?”
“Possibly,” Ripley added, much to Ella’s surprise. “We can’t confirm anything yet but Chuck is a person of interest.”
“I can see it. I really can,” said the woman. “That thing with the woman sawn in two? Horrible. Just awful. And with what Chuck does down in his shack… God, I wish I’d have put two and two together when I heard the news.”
Ella’s interest grew further still. “What does Chuck do out in his shack, Miss Pierce?”
“Metalwork. One of his hobbies. He’s even got one of those big things. What are they called?”
“CNC machines,” Ripley finished.
“Yes,” the wife said with a click of her fingers. “That’s it.”
Ella recalled what the coroner had told her. It fit, almost too perfectly.
One thing’s for sure, these cuts weren’t made by hand. A machine did this.
She was itching to get out of there, determined to bring this culprit to justice before the night was out. Victory was so close she could almost taste it.
“We need an exact address for this residence of your husband’s, Miss Pierce.”
“It doesn’t have one. Head through Pinefields. It’s a single road. Halfway along you’ll see an apple orchard to the left. Opposite the entrance you’ll see a dirt track leading into the woods. Follow that and you’ll come to it. Be careful because it’s dangerous land out there.”
They thanked the woman and jumped back in the car. Yes, there were certain dangers ahead, but the unforgiving marshland was the least of her concerns. They had a serial killer to catch.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
It wasn’t signposted, but Ella could almost pinpoint the exact spot where Pinefields began. The trees turned heavier and denser, contorting into shapes that defied nature. They passed by another lake, this one shallow and dark green, fallen branches penetrating the surface. On the dirt path into the woodlands, their car violently shook as they entered territory which wasn’t designed for vehicle access. Ella looked out of the passenger window and watched shapes move in the darkness, noticing the outline of a black bear marching towards the lake.
Their car struggled up a narrow path on a small hill, tree branches scratching the windows. Ella felt a sudden wave of claustrophobia. Her anxiety flared up, feeling like she was heading into the mouth of hell. Somewhere up ahead was the home of a possible serial killer. The options of how this could play out ran amok in her head, but she shook off the thoughts and told herself she needed to be in the moment. The dirt track gave way to a sprawling, dead lawn with a beat-up truck abandoned in the middle of it.
“White van,” Ripley said. “Exactly what I wanted to see.”
Behind a small, rickety fence was a large shack – more of a cottage - impressive in size but hideous in condition. Nature had begun to reclaim its wooden exterior, with several wooden panels on the verge of collapse. Any color had long since washed away, leaving a gray slab in place.
“He’s alone out here like this” Ella said. “This isolation is enough to drive a man to murder.
“I haven’t seen another house for miles,” said Ripley. She edged the car closer to the front of the house.
“You think he’s already spotted us?” Ella asked. “Looks to me like he doesn’t get many visitors.”
“If I had to guess, I’d say he’s watching us right now. Given how quiet it is around here, he’d hear a car coming a mile away. Come on, let’s get inside. We need to move fast.”
Ella and Ripley jumped out of the car and scaled the hilly pathway to the cottage’s front door.
“I’ll do the talking” Ella said. She was as anxious as she’d ever been in her life, but her confidence and adrenaline took center stage. Ella knocked, then stayed completely still, listening for movement.
Ten seconds passed. Nothing. No signs of life, no barking dogs.
“Be inside, you bastard,” Ripley said. “Come on.”
Out of the dark came a voice. “What do you want?”
