Page 63

SIXTY-TWO

CROOKED CREEK

Ellie was dog tired by the time she arrived home. Desperate for a hot shower, she hung her jacket on the coat hook and pulled off her boots. She was removing her gun and holster when a knock sounded on the front door.

Always on alert, she walked back to the door and glanced through the side window. Cord’s truck was parked in the drive, snow clinging to the windshield.

They hadn’t talked much since she’d left town and she wasn’t sure she was ready yet. At some point she’d have to congratulate him on his engagement and the baby.

She gulped at the thought, straightened her shoulders and adopted her game face.

Still, when she opened the door, for a brief second, Cord’s big rugged handsome face stole her breath. Cord always looked gruff as if he’d been living in the wilderness. Tall and muscular, with shaggy dark hair and a permanent five o’clock shadow, and a rock-hard body earned by hiking and living off the mountain.

Their gazes locked, tension radiating from his smoky brown eyes.

“Sorry it’s late, but I had to talk to you,” he said, then brushed past her and strode into the room.

“What is it?” she asked at his grim tone. “Is something wrong?” Was his baby okay?

He shrugged off his coat and tossed it on the bar stool.

“The case had me thinking about Modelle and all those outbuildings and his past,” Cord said.

Relief that this wasn’t personal alleviated the tension from Ellie’s shoulders. She could aways talk work. Relationships were more challenging.

“Let me get us a drink,” Ellie said, sensing he was upset.

He gave a quick nod and followed her to the breakfast island. She took two glasses from the cabinet, poured herself a finger of Ketel One and him a Jack Daniels, then she swirled her vodka in her glass and took a slow sip. Cord did the same with his whiskey and finally exhaled.

“What’s going on, Cord?” Ellie asked.

“I decided to take a look around Modelle’s place.”

Ellie hesitated. “You went up there alone?”

“Yeah, I know you didn’t find enough for a warrant, but I figured if he’d killed once, he might again and there are all kinds of places on his property to hide evidence or a body so I was watching him and saw him go into the woods.” He scrubbed his hand through his thick hair, drawing her attention to the scars on his knuckles.

“I waited until he left and I hiked in and tracked his footprints.” His sigh rent the air and Ellie exhaled.

“You found something?”

“Maybe.” He pulled his phone and unlocked it. “I don’t know if it’s enough to get a warrant and I didn’t touch anything, but this looks suspicious.” He angled his phone and Ellie studied the first photograph.

A picture of a child’s necklace dangled from a tree limb. She peered closer. A heart-shaped pendant like the twins had worn.

Next came a picture of a small dirt mound with a flower poking through the soil, then the empty hole where Cord dug up a tacklebox.

She jerked her gaze to his. “I thought you said you didn’t touch anything.”

“I wore gloves,” he said. “And I put everything back like I found out.”

“Still, if there is incriminating evidence inside, it might get thrown out. Not only were you trespassing on private property, but whatever you found was obtained illegally, and Modelle’s lawyer could argue that it was tampered with.”

“Shit, Ellie,” Cord growled. “This guy is bad. He can’t get away with abusing and killing his daughter or any other kids.”

“I know that, but we follow the book so the case will stick.”

They stared at each other for a long, heated moment, her heart pounding, his breathing erratic. “Don’t you even want to know what was in there?”

Ellie knocked back the rest of her vodka then gave a frustrated nod. “Of course I do.”

Cord laid his phone on the bar between them and allowed her to scroll through the photos. Pictures of little girls’ things, a hair tie, bow, bracelet, a beaded one that spelled Friends.

Her anxiety mounted with each one. Now she understood why Cord thought this was important. Serial killers often took trinkets, mementos from their victims, to remember them by.

The corded letter necklace must have belonged to his daughter.

But where had the other items come from?

Could Modelle have other victims they knew nothing about?