Page 116 of The Graveyard Girls

She’d paid for that. He’d had to kill her.

ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-FOUR

Guns drawn, Ellie darted through the woods while Derrick charged toward the house in case Joe stashed Carrie Ann’s body inside.

Please let her be alive.

A boom of thunder startled her, and lightning flashed in the distance. Ahead she heard water lapping at the bank and veered toward the sound, searching the brush as she ran. Around trees and through thick foliage, over puddles then the swampy odor of stagnant water.

There it was. A pond.

“Joe, give it up!” she shouted. “Save Carrie Ann and it’ll look better for you!”

Even as she said it, she darted to the edge of the pond, searching for a floating body. “Carrie Ann!”

Somewhere in the distance, tree limbs snapped in the blustery wind, but she had a bad feeling the girl was drowning in that murky water. Yanking a flashlight from her pocket, she shined it across the pond then the embankment. Footprints. Large. A man’s boots.

Derrick’s voice bounced through the trees then he was a few feet away. “House and shed are clear.”

“I think he dumped her in the pond. He’s headed north. Go after him!”

Derrick ran past her, and she laid her gun behind a boulder, draped her jacket over it, removed her boots then dove into the pond.

ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-FIVE

This bastard was not going to get away.

Derrick wouldn’t stop until he obtained a list of all hisvictims and where they were buried.

The families deserved that closure. He’d given it to his own mother, and he’d do the same for these teenagers’ families.

Derrick spotted a dark figure ahead a few hundred feet as he climbed a hill and he picked up his pace. Since his back injury he hadn’t been able to lift weights or run like he had before, but he was healing now, and no way did he intend to lose the chase to a short man with a paunch who probably downed a six pack or a fifth of liquor a night.

A wild animal howled, and forest creatures roamed the woods, the sound of feral cats whining into the night. He raced around a boulder and through patchy brush then a gunshot boomeranged and a bullet whizzed by his head. He ducked and dashed behind a tree, then scanned the area where it had come from.

Joe peered around the tree, his shotgun raised and fired again. Derrick gripped his weapon and released a bullet. Using a tree as cover, Joe managed to dodge it and they exchanged another round. Derrick threw a stick to the left as a distractionand Joe shot at it. Another rock to the opposite side, biding his time until Joe ran out of bullets. When he paused to reload, Derrick made his move.

Stealthy as a cat in the dark, he maneuvered his way toward Joe until he could circle around and sneak up behind him. The wind picked up, rustling the trees. The cat’s whine turned into a full-fledged cat fight. Teeth gritted, Derrick inched up behind him and pressed the barrel of his Glock to the back of Joe’s head.

“Drop it,” Derrick ordered.

Joe went still, then had the nerve to quickly pivot as if to fight Derrick. Big mistake.

The faces of the dead girls flashed behind Derrick’s eyes, and his finger tightened on the trigger. But reason and training kicked in. He wanted answers, names and locations more than he wanted to see the man’s blood spill over.

“I said drop it, Joe. It’s over.”

Joe had the gall to laugh.

Derrick gave him a sardonic smile. “You won’t be laughing when you’re some man’s bitch in prison.”

Anger radiated in Joe’s growl, but Derrick didn’t give him time to react or escape. He knocked the shotgun from Joe’s hand, then kicked it into the brush, jerked the bastard’s arms behind his back and cuffed him.

Joe cursed and Derrick shoved him forward through the woods. By the time they reached the pond, Ellie was dragging Carrie Ann out.

Derrick watched as she hauled the girl to the ground and started CPR.

“Come on, Carrie Ann,” Ellie pleaded. “Breathe for me.”