Page 128 of The Graveyard Girls (Detective Ellie Reeves #11)

ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-SEVEN

Crooked Creek Police Station

When Ellie arrived at the police station. Derrick had booked Joe who’d clammed up, then Derrick put him into a holding cell.

“I’ll collect all the evidence we have against him and we’ll confront him together,” Derrick told Ellie.

“While you do that, I’ll interview Hetty.”

They agreed and she found Hetty in the second interrogation room.

Sweat drenched Hetty’s hair and clothes and she paced the room, wringing her hands together. When she saw Ellie, Hetty froze and her pale face turned a sickly yellow.

“Am I under arrest?” Hetty asked. “Because if I am, I want a lawyer.”

“You’re not under arrest,” Ellie said. “But please sit down, Hetty. We need to talk.”

Hetty sighed wearily, dark circles beneath her sunken eyes.

Ellie imagined her as the young girl suffering from Earl Bramble’s abuse, and sympathy filled her.

Hetty had lived in fear during her younger years, and if Ida’s story was true, they’d both lived in fear the past fifteen years, keeping their secret and terrified of going to prison.

“Can I see Ida?” Hetty asked.

“Once I take your statement, we’ll see about that.”

Hetty’s lips pressed into a tight line. “What did she tell you?”

“I’m not at liberty to disclose that at the moment,” Ellie said, striving to handle the interview by the book. “We found Earl Bramble’s body,” Ellie said.

Hetty squeezed her eyes closed for a moment and began to tremble. When she finally looked at Ellie, her shoulders sagged in defeat. “And she told you what happened?”

“Her version,” Ellie said. “I need to know yours.”

Panic flashed on Hetty’s face, then resignation. “I guess the truth had to come out some time.”

“It usually does,” Ellie said softly. “Sometimes it’s a relief to unburden yourself.”

“I don’t want Ida to be in trouble,” Hetty said. “She was protecting me.”

“Protecting you from what? Or whom?” Ellie asked.

“Her daddy,” Hetty admitted. “Everyone thought he was doing me a favor by taking me in, b… but he wanted my father’s money, and he…”

“He what?” Ellie asked, treading gently.

“He used to hit me,” Hetty spit out. “That and make me work in the graveyard half the night and get up at dawn and help him again and if I complained he’d… beat me.”

“Why didn’t you tell someone?” Ellie asked.

Hetty heaved a labored breath. “Because he said if I did, he’ll start up on Ida.”

Anger for Ida and Hetty burned Ellie’s throat. “So you were protecting each other?”’

Hetty emitted a little cry of distress then nodded. “She was all I had.”

Ellie wanted to pull her into a hug. “I’m sorry that happened to you,” she said. “But there’s more,” Ellie said, needing to see Hetty’s reaction. “We have evidence that Ida’s husband, Joe, killed Ruth Higgins and the other victims we’ve found dead in Brambletown.”

Shock widened Hetty’s eyes. “What are you talking about? Joe a killer?” She dabbed sweat from her forehead with her fingers. “That can’t be so.”

“It is,” Ellie said. “Do you think Ida knew he murdered Ruth?”

Hetty shook her head no. “Oh, God, no. We both thought her daddy killed Ruth. And if Ida knew about Joe, she would have gotten Kat away from him.”

Ellie studied her for a moment. Hetty’s reaction seemed sincere. “Go on. About the reason you didn’t tell on Earl?”

“We thought he was a murderer and got what he deserved. That with him gone, we’d all be safe.”

With all Ellie knew about Earl Bramble, and the fact that he’d abused Hetty, their rationale made sense.

“But when other girls started showing up dead, you knew Earl couldn’t have done it,” Ellie said. “Why didn’t you come forward then?”

Guilt streaked Hetty’s eyes and her lower lip quivered. “We were afraid,” she said in a ragged whisper.

Ellie gave a nod of acceptance. Ida and Hetty were minors when Earl died and living in terror. She understood their fear. But it angered her that folks in town didn’t recognize the abuse or if they had, they’d turned a blind eye. Someone should have protected them.

“I’ll be right back.” She left the room and returned with a notepad and pen. “Hetty, I believe you, but I need you to write down everything that happened. The more details you offer the better, especially details of your abuse.”

“Are we going to jail?” Hetty asked.

Not if she could help it. “You were both minors. And you were abused and acted in self-defense,” she said gently. “I’ll explain that to the DA and do my best to convince him not to press charges.”

Hetty shifted nervously but picked up the pen and began to write.