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It seemed the Southside Slasher preferred to go down in history in a blaze of glory, as he called it, because he’d outsmarted the cops.
But Derrick wasn’t throwing in the towel yet. The tearful pleas of the victims in his head made him determined to get them home to their families.
As he neared Crooked Creek, he pressed the number for Dr. Leon Morehead, a forensic psychiatrist the FBI had consulted before. Morehead’s receptionist answered then patched him through.
“This is Special Agent Derrick Fox with the FBI. We need your assistance on a case.”
“Which one is that?” Dr. Morehead asked.
“Dominique Radcliff’s execution is set for three weeks. We need you to persuade him to admit he killed two others and show us where he disposed of them.”
Dr. Morehead cleared his throat. “I thought police found all of his victims.”
“They found three, but there are at least two more who disappeared that may be connected. Radcliff is denying that he killed them. But those families want closure.”
“I understand. I’ll set it up ASAP and send you my report.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
Derrick sped up, eager to see Ellie. Farmland passed by. Heat had dried the fields and pastures, his tires kicking up dust as he maneuvered a graveled strip where construction had torn up the asphalt.
The mountains with their natural beauty were an escape from the city, although they had their own share of dangers and crime. Still, he had family in Atlanta. His mother. And now his godchildren, nine-year-old Evan and Evan’s little sister Maddie. He’d served in the military with their father Rick, who’d committed suicide after the guilt of a mission gone awry had overwhelmed him. Derrick understood all about guilt. He’d lived with it all his life.
He rubbed the back of his neck. In his will, Rick had asked Derrick to watch over the kids, although his widow Lindsey harbored animosity toward Derrick, making the task more difficult.
At least today, he’d played ball with Evan and Maddie had laughed when he pushed her in the swing on the playground at the park. Baby steps, he reminded himself. He wasn’t their father and couldn’t replace him.
Being around Rick’s family made him feel even more inept. He didn’t know how to be a father figure to those kids but he’d damn well try.
His phone rang, Ellie’s ring tone. His pulse quickened the way it always did at the thought of seeing her again. Tough and tenacious, the damn woman drove him crazy, both with want and fear. He kept telling himself not to get too attached to her. He’d lost loved ones before and he wasn’t sure the pain was worth it. Seeing Rick’s wife’s grief was a perfect reminder of that.
Ellie was a go-getter and a hothead. She’d literally run into a snake pit to save someone else with no regard to her own life. It was bound to catch up with her sometime.
Could he deal with it if or when it did?
Still, they were working a task force the governor had asked him to spearhead, to combat the ever-growing number of crimes in the Appalachian Mountains, so he connected.
“Derrick, are you back in Crooked Creek?”
“Almost. Why? Something going on?”
“We found a body in a car in Widow Lake. We’re waiting on the medical examiner to get here before we remove it. Looks like it’s been there a while. There was a car seat inside but no child,” Ellie said. “Divers are searching the surrounding area in case a child was in the car and somehow got out.”
Considering the body had been there a while, if the child had gotten out and was alone, they were probably looking for a body. “Was the door shut?” Derrick asked.
“Yes, Cord pried it open.”
“If it was submerged, and the door still closed, the child couldn’t have gotten out on his or her own. The water pressure would have sealed it.”
“True. Which means if a child was inside, the only way he or she could have escaped was if someone helped him, perhaps before the car went in the water.”
“That’s possible, I guess,” Derrick said.
Ellie’s voice thickened. “Which means the child might not have been in the car or if so, was either rescued or… possibly taken.”
TWENTY
THE LADY IN BLUE BRIDGE
