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She sat back in her chair, arms folded. “Why are you asking about him? He’s still in prison, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” Derrick said.
Ellie’s phone buzzed and she checked the number. “Excuse me. This is our medical examiner. I need to take this.”
Ellie stepped outside for a moment and connected the call.
“Ellie, I have an ID on the bones found in the shed. They belong to the missing woman, Amy Dean.”
Ellie’s chest squeezed. So she was right. Amy was dead and had been buried beneath the shed. Had her daughter been buried with her?
FIFTY-FOUR
HAYES STATE PRISON
Dr. Leon Morehead parked at Hayes State Prison, Georgia’s maximum-security prison and home to many of the most violent inmates in the state. Typically he was enlisted to determine whether a defendant was mentally competent to stand trial. During the course of his questioning, he also solicitated facts about the crime and was surprised at how eager some inmates were to spill the details, some bragging about the depth of violence, their strategies to escape being caught, and specifics about the victims, their fantasies and their MOs.
Today his task centered on uncovering the whereabouts of two other women who may have been victims of the Southside Slayer.
Before entering the prison, he pulled up the video of the man’s trial and watched it a second time in his car to ensure the details were fresh in his mind. Radcliff was first sworn in and asked to confirm his identity.
“I am the Southside Slasher,” Radcliff admitted.
“Tell us about the murders,” the attorney prompted.
“It was so easy,” he said. “I watched them for several days on campus, then slashed their tires. When they left their apartment or school, I followed them onto the highway. By the time they were on the mountain road, the tire deflated and they had to pull over.” His laughter erupted. “Then I came to the rescue and played the hero.”
His victim type was always brunettes with long hair. “I love to run my fingers through their manes,” he said. “Then I cut off that glorious hair and slashed their creamy white throats. They look exquisite with red blood streaming down their necks.” His breath quickened. “I even timed how long it took for them to die…” A sinister laugh echoed from him.
“And you painted their lips in a smile with their own blood,” the prosecutor said.
“Oh, yes, they weren’t so pretty then.”
The attorney waited calmly. “Why the smile, Radcliff?”
He leaned back in the chair, a picture of nonchalance. “Why do you think?”
“Because murdering them made you happy,” the prosecutor suggested.
Radcliff’s eyes flared with excitement, and he touched his own neck then looked down at his hands as if he was seeing the blood on his hands from the kill.
“Go on,” the attorney coaxed. “Tell me about the victims.”
“The first girl was Pamela Louis. I called her Perky Pam because her tits bounced all over the place when she talked.” He licked his lips.
“Pamela was twenty years old, a former cheerleader and belonged to a sorority,” the prosecutor stated. “You admitted to stalking her. Did you ever make contact or talk to her?”
He grunted. “Bitch was too stuck up to give me the time of day. Thought she was better than everybody. But I showed her. In the end, she knew my name and she used it. She begged me to stop.” He flexed his hands. “And I did. I ended it for her.” His breath quickened as if the memory was euphoric.
The prosecutor continued, “And you left her naked and exposed at Springer Mountain?”
“I did. She thought she was so uppity, but without her fancy clothes and that long hair, she was just ugly.”
A brief pause on the part of the prosecutor to allow the jury to process Radcliff’s statement before he continued, “What about victim number two, Kari Bernard? Did you know her?”
Radcliff tunneled his fingers through his wiry hair. “She was a little more interesting. It was raining the night I followed her and she eagerly got in my car to escape the downpour.” His voice turned shrill. “Talked my head off. Said she was studying journalism. Wanted to be a crime reporter.”
“Even though she talked to you, you still killed her?”
