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Shondra gave a nod, and Ellie knelt in front of Lorna Bea. “Honey, it’s going to be okay. I’ll be back, but for now wait here with this nice deputy. There are others inside that need my help.” She brushed the girl’s tear-soaked hair from her cheeks. “Okay?”
Lorna Bea trembled, her chin quivering. Then she gave a tiny nod.
Ellie addressed the deputy, “Once the ambulance gets here, make sure they stay inside the vehicle. We don’t want innocents caught in crossfire.”
“Copy that.”
Ellie turned and darted back inside to find Cord.
Armed with the weapon she’d taken from Wahlburg, she followed the corridor to the camera room. It was empty so she went in and studied the monitor showing the room where Cord lay. She searched for a clue as to its location in the building. But it was so grainy and dark, all she could make out were concrete walls.
She darted out the door and located the staircase. But just as she entered the doorway, something hit her from behind. Pain splintered her head and she pitched forward, lost her balance and tumbled down into the darkness.
Seconds later, she felt herself being dragged across the floor. Then a door screeched and she was dragged inside. She fought to stay conscious and smelled fresh blood as the man dumped her and left.
Although she was disoriented and dizzy, she managed to open one eye. Blinking as she peered around, she spotted Cord. It took every ounce of her grit to crawl to him.
She called his name or at least she thought she did. Nothing from him in return. No movement. She couldn’t even tell if he was breathing.
She nudged his arm but it was limp and heavy. Fear clenched her chest and she collapsed against him. His body felt so cold, she tried to shake him. But the darkness pulled her under.
ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-EIGHT
Derrick found a morgue in the basement. He spoke into his mic to the others, “Downstairs. I hear voices.”
He eased along the concrete wall, careful to stay in the shadows as he waited for Landrum and the sheriff.
“We’ll have to move the other bodies.”
Derrick’s pulse hammered. That voice. Radcliff.
“We’ll dump them in the lake and no one can trace us here,” Radcliff said.
“What about that detective?” Pockley asked.
“We’ll get rid of her,” Radcliff said. “I can’t wait to see her scream when I slash her throat.”
Laughter erupted and Derrick saw red. He was about to race in, gun drawn, when he saw the sheriff and Landrum creeping down the hall. He signaled to them that the suspects were inside and they joined him, weapons drawn.
Derrick burst through the door and they rushed in. Radcliff and Pockley spun around, caught off guard.
Then Radcliff laughed, raised a gun and fired.
All hell cut loose. Waters charged Pockley, who pulled a knife, and Derrick raced after Radcliff.
He caught the sociopath just as he tried to slide out the door. The bastard made a run for a Jeep in the woods, but Derrick was faster and fired his gun.
The bullet struck Radcliff in the shoulder, then the storm clouds unleased. Thunder and lightning zipped across the treetops. Radcliff darted through the trees and Derrick gave chase up the mountain. The gunshot wound was slowing Radcliff down, and Derrick followed the blood trail through the brush. Limbs cracked and fell as a gust of wind picked up. Leaves swirled. Radcliff crushed weeds in his haste then neared a ridge.
Inching toward him, Derrick raised his weapon. “It’s over, Radcliff. Give it up.”
Radcliff halted at the edge of the ravine, his breath panting out as he pressed his fist to his bloody shoulder.
“Put your hands in the air,” Derrick ordered.
Radcliff simply smiled at him then shook his head. “I’m not going back to prison.”
Derrick took another step closer and Radcliff inched backward. “Don’t you dare jump, you coward.”
