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He stopped at the Corner Café and got them coffee and their usual breakfast sandwiches, while she waited in the car. Ten minutes later, they parked at her bungalow and she went straight to shower.
The temptation to join her niggled at him but first, he had to figure out what was missing about the case. If he was right about his hunch.
He set the coffee and food on her kitchen island and placed his computer between the bar stools.
Once Ellie was out, she sucked down the coffee and sausage-cheese biscuit as if she hadn’t eaten in days. He polished his off, deciding they needed to eat before watching the gory videos.
The first video was of Amy Dean’s murder. The air in the room grew charged with emotion as they watched Frank Wahlburg attack the young woman with a knife. She screamed and so did her little girl, and blood spattered everywhere.
“Kill the girl, too!” Waycross ordered. “We can’t leave any loose ends behind.”
But Wahlburg had refused and charged Waycross. They fought and Waycross grabbed Paisley and ran out the door. Wahlburg gave chase but the footage stopped when they got outside.
“They all this bad?” Ellie asked.
He nodded. “Never easy to watch someone lose their life to violence.” Except these men had fed on it.
ONE HUNDRED THIRTY-NINE
CROOKED CREEK
By the third video, Ellie felt ill. She had to erect a mental wall to protect herself from breaking down. The footage of the young coed posed in front of the Coastal College in Brunswick was especially disturbing. Next, footage of Haley North’s murder, one of the victims Radcliff had denied killing.
The image caught on the camera was blurry, but the stature wasn’t Radcliffe’s. This guy was thinner, taller, wore glasses. “That’s Pockley,” Ellie said.
Derrick nodded. “He confessed to the two murders we asked Radcliff about.”
“Wait,” Ellie said. “Replay it.”
He rewound it and ran it again, his pulse jumping.
“There’s someone else there,” Ellie said. “I… think I heard another voice. Can you enhance the sound?”
Derrick did and watched her reaction. “I heard it, too. But it’s difficult to distinguish if it’s male or female.”
Ellie sipped her coffee. “Odessa Muldane?”
Derrick gave a non-committal shrug and played the video of the initiation. Each man had brought a souvenir from their first kill. Odessa had been watching in the shadows. “The Muldane woman was there in the circle with them.” Next, he played the video of the attack on Sarah Turner. “Coolidge didn’t attack her. But Harvey was definitely there.”
And so was someone else.
Although the voice was muffled and she couldn’t tell if it was male or female.
ONE HUNDRED FORTY
BLUFF COUNTY HOSPITAL
Derrick’s phone buzzed with the hospital number and he connected. “Special Agent Fox.”
“You asked me to call when Omar Coolidge regained consciousness. He has.”
“I’ll be right there.” Derrick hung up. “Omar Coolidge is awake. Maybe he can fill in some blanks.” He pulled his keys from his pocket. “Why don’t you study the remainder of the videos while I question him?”
Ellie nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
He rushed outside, hopped in his sedan and sped toward Bluff County Hospital. Traffic was minimal, the roads still damp from the storm the night before. Mid-morning sunlight was already shimmering through the clouds, the temperature slightly cooler today, hinting that fall was around the corner.
He turned the images in the videos over in his mind as he drove. Exhausted from staying up reviewing the tapes and trying to tie up loose ends on the case, he rolled his shoulders as he parked, then got out, entered the hospital and found Coolidge’s room. The deputy was still standing guard and would be until Coolidge was transported to jail to await his trial.
