Page 32 of The Graveyard Girls (Detective Ellie Reeves #11)

THIRTY-ONE

Somewhere on the AT

His palms grew damp, his breathing erratic with excitement as he placed the red sandal on the shelf with his other trophies. All the pretty red shoes… all the pretty girls who wore them.

Red, the school colors. Red, like roses.

Red, the color of blood streaming onto the floor like a river…

He kissed his finger then gently traced it over each shoe as he counted them, whispering the name of each girl they belonged to.

The young faces and bodies, teasing and tempting… Their images flooded his mind, the sound of their screams taunting him, their bodies going limp as they gasped for their last breath.

He moved along the row until he ended at the first shoe he’d brought here and ran his hand over the stiletto heel.

Slowly the memories thrust him back in time. To the cold musty closet where he’d spent most of his childhood nights.

Darkness surrounded him in the tiny closed-in space where his mama had locked him.

“Don’t come out or you’ll get it.” The sound of the lock clicking screamed in his ears.

The light from the keyhole faded as panic engulfed him.

The furnace clanked somewhere in the silence.

But the heat didn’t seem to reach the closet and made it feel like an icy cave.

He slid back against the wall and felt the heel of one of his mama’s shoes stab him in the back.

Shivering, he yanked her wool coat from the hanger above and buried himself in it then wrapped her red scarf around his neck.

It stank of sweat, cigarettes and stale whiskey.

Threadbare, the coat hardly warmed him, but for a while he covered his head with it, hoping to drown out the sounds outside the room.

Footsteps clattered. Glasses clinked and rattled. The stereo erupted with the whine of some country two-step song. Clack, clack, clack. Boots pounding the wood floor in time with the twangy sound.

Then a shriek. Something shattered onto the floor. Dishes breaking. His mother’s groan.

Terrified, he uncovered his head, crawled to the door and peeked through the keyhole.

The man growled and his mother giggled, a sickening sound that made him want to puke. Then the man threw her onto the kitchen table. Pouncing on her, he tore at her clothes. Shoved her backward. Her head hit the table with a whack. Her shoes flew off and hit the floor.

The man rammed at her, knocking the chair over. Gripped her around the throat.

She screamed but he kept going, pounding and grunting and…

Bile rose in his throat, and he crawled back into the corner, pulled the coat back over him and tried to shut out everything. But in his mind he could still see those red shoes dangling from her feet through the crack in the door… The red shoes… The man smacking her as she screamed.