Page 133 of The Graveyard Girls (Detective Ellie Reeves #11)

ONE HUNDRED THIRTY-TWO

Pine Hill

While Ellie arranged the press conference for the next day to inform the public they’d caught the teenager strangler and the young girls in Brambletown and across North Georgia were safe, Derrick drove to Tilly’s.

They’d decided to hold off releasing news to the public until the next day to give them time to locate Joe’s other victims and inform their families.

Sheriff Wallace had volunteered to visit the Higgins’ family himself and relay the news, and Derrick and Ellie agreed.

Derrick didn’t want Tilly to hear about Ruth on the news either. She deserved more than that.

He knocked on the door, and she answered, immediately inhaling a deep breath as if she knew he had bad news.

She gestured for him to come in and he followed her to the kitchen. “You have news about Ruth, don’t you?”

“How did you know?”

“Just a feeling.” He saw an open bottle of scotch and she poured two fingers into high ball glasses and handed him one. Then she led him to the living room where a fire crackled in the fireplace, the glow of the embers adding a warmth to the room that couldn’t begin to erase the chill of his news.

She sank into the club chair by the fire and took a sip of her scotch. “You solved the case?”

“Yes,” he said. “Detective Reeves is going to hold a press conference tomorrow. But I wanted you to hear the truth from me.”

Pain wrenched her face. “Thank you, Agent Fox. I had a feeling you understood.”

“I do.” He sipped his own drink then sat beside her in the matching chair. “We found your sister’s body.”

A tiny moan escaped her. “Where? Did Earl Bramble do this?”

He shook his head then explained about Jones. Surprise flashed in her eyes, then resignation. “My God, Joe killed Ruth. Did Ida or Hetty know?”

“No, they were as shocked as you.”

“Why would Joe kill Ruth?” Tilly asked with a puzzled frown.

“Apparently, he was traumatized when he was young by his mother. He also had a crush on Ruth and he said she wouldn’t have anything to do with him.”

Tilly stared into her drink. “She probably was harsh to him. But that doesn’t seem like a reason to kill her or those other girls.”

“Like I said, he was traumatized as a child. We’ll have a psychiatrist evaluate him, but he may have had a psychotic break when he was younger.” Derrick didn’t want to share details at this point.

A shudder rippled through Tilly and Derrick wanted to pull her in his arms.

“Thank you for telling me. I need to call my brother and parents and let them know.”

Her tormented gaze met his. “Under the circumstances, Sheriff Wallace offered to inform your parents.”

“Thanks,” she murmured. “I really don’t want anything else to do with them.”

“I figured,” Derrick said. “And I’m sorry. Do you want me to tell your brother?”

She tossed back the rest of her drink. “No. Hayden and I made peace with each other. I’ll talk to him. I owe him that much.”

“Of course.” He knew he should go, but didn’t want to leave her yet. Not when she looked so vulnerable. “Why don’t you call him, and I’ll wait around if you want to talk.”

A slow smile lifted her lips, and she squeezed his hand. “I’d like that, Agent Fox.”

“It’s Derrick,” he murmured. “Please call me Derrick.”

“All right, Derrick,” she murmured with a tiny smile. “I’ll be right back.” She stood and walked to the kitchen, then he heard her talking to her brother. A minute later, she returned with the bottle of scotch.

“How is your brother?” Derrick asked.

She shrugged. “Sad, but relieved to finally know the truth.”

“I understand.”

“I guess you do.” Tilly wiped at a tear. “It’s hard to let go, but it’s time.”

Derrick nodded. “Closure does help. Eventually.”

She refilled both their glasses. “I followed up with Emanuel Black and the governor on the toxin cleanup on the land by Green Gardens Cemetery,” Tilly said, surprising him by changing the subject.

“Looks like the protests and publicity lit a fire with the governor. He has a committee working on it. Their goal is to have it cleaned up and environmentally safe within a year.”

“That’s great news,” Derrick said. “I’ve read some of your articles. You’re an amazing writer.”

She spread a blanket on the floor in front of the fire, sat down and patted the seat beside her. He smiled and joined her, and for a long moment, they just sat quietly and stared into the flames.

As they sipped their drinks, she slowly reached for his hand, and he clasped hers and squeezed it. He’d felt a connection with her the first time they met. He admired her investigative writing, her tenacity in searching for the truth and her love for her brother.

She also possessed a quiet kind of beauty that drew him to her. A spark of something was happening between them, and Derrick decided to embrace it.