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Ellie’s stomach knotted at the dark look in Derrick’s eyes. His jaw was set tight, every muscle in his body tense.
“I know this case triggers bad memories,” she said softly.
“It does, but it’s not that.” Derrick ran his fingers through his hair, tousling the thick black strands.
Frowning, Ellie inhaled a deep breath. She had a bad feeling she wasn’t going to like what he had to say. “Tell me.”
He crossed her office and looked out the window, his body rigid. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was, that the gray skies looked dismal next to the festive red, green, silver and gold decorations adorning the town.
How quickly things had changed since last night’s Angel Pageant, when families gathered excitedly to celebrate the season. Driving from the Corner Café to the station, she’d felt the difference, the fear, the silence shrouding the air, seen people scurrying to their cars and homes instead of lingering with each other.
No longer were the parents simply thinking about Santa and Christmas dinner. Instead, they were obsessing over protecting their children from another monster.
Derrick turned to face her, dragging her from her musings. “I ran a search for arrests of child predators and checked the registered sex offender list.”
Ellie’s breath stalled in her chest. “And you found one?”
He nodded gravely. “A young guy named Nolan Grueler.” Derrick opened his laptop and accessed Grueler’s arrest records. The man’s mug shot made Ellie’s skin crawl. Not because he looked scary, but because he looked normal. Nobody would have suspected him. The guy had short wavy brown hair, and his face was slender, clean-shaven. He was fine-boned, looked frail, harmless.
“He worked as a lifeguard at the community swimming pool in Savannah,” Derrick said as he read the file. “Mother of a seven-year-old girl claims he was stalking her child at the pool, that he tried to convince her to sit on his lap, but she ran and told her mom. A couple of other mothers said they thought he was overly friendly to the little girls. Police investigated and found child pornography on his computer, and pictures of the children at the pool on his phone. He accepted a plea deal and served a year but is out now.”
Bile rose to Ellie’s throat. “Where does he live?”
She knew that registered sex offenders were restricted from living or working within 1,000 feet of a church, school, day care center, swimming pool, playground or any other place where children gathered. If he’d been at the park, he’d already violated that.
“According to his parole officer, he lives with his mother.” Derrick’s mouth tightened. “In the house that backs up to Ava Truman’s.”
Twenty-Two
Ellie cursed, then stood and snatched her keys. “Let’s go have a chat with Mr.Grueler.”
As they sped through town, lit candles flickered from the hands of those who’d joined the prayer vigil around the angel tree, the lights like beacons of hope flickering against the darkening sky. The town’s Christmas carolers stood to the side, singing “Silent Night”, as folks joined hands to pray.
Ellie spotted Lola passing out hot apple cider and cocoa to the crowd. As she left Main Street, the festive lights faded as the small town gave way to side streets of neighborhoods with homey bungalows, craftsman homes and old brick ranches where families felt safe.
Except tonight they did not.
The quaint family neighborhood where Lara lived, and the cul de sac where Mrs.Grueler resided, was only a few miles from town, but it felt like an eternity as sickening images taunted Ellie. She prayed and prayed they were wrong, that Jasper had Ava and not this man.
Not wanting to alert Grueler if he was home, she parked two doors down from the Grueler’s house.
She and Derrick eased toward the property. With winter upon them, the dry grass was wilted, the trees bare of leaves, the path to the doorway cobbled with broken twigs and pinecones that had blown down in a recent storm.
A breeze rustled the leaves as she inched up to the front stoop. The wrought-iron rail wobbled as she clutched it and the windows desperately needed cleaning. She glanced back at the street as a black Mustang with tinted windows roared past.
Derrick punched the doorbell and knocked, and a minute later a gray-haired woman in a yellow printed housedress opened the door, her brows pinched as she peered at them over wire-rimmed glasses.
Ellie and Derrick identified themselves, and the woman fluttered a hand to her chest. “I figured you’d show up here.”
“You did?” Ellie replied, schooling her reaction.
The woman nodded. “I went to get some more yarn today, I make Christmas pot holders for the church sale, and talked to Fanny Mae.”
Fanny Mae was one half of the Stitchin’ Sisters, who held a weekly knitting club.
“Anyway, Fanny Mae said something about the little girl in the neighborhood going missing. Everyone’s talking about it.”
Ellie and Derrick exchanged a look. “Ms.Grueler, may we come in?” Derrick asked.
