Page 1 of The Whispering Girls (Detective Katie Scott #14)

In the dead of night along a windy country road in the middle of nowhere, a white utility van slowly turned down a side trail barely wide enough for any car.

The vehicle bobbed and weaved, inching along, pushing through.

The bright lights were the only illumination through the thick trees, leaving an eerie spattering of red light as it went.

The van abruptly stopped when the trail narrowed and it was unable to drive any farther, the engine revving as gears ground to a halt.

Steam rose in the cooler outdoor temperature, surrounding the vehicle.

Cutting the engine but leaving the headlights on, a man got out: lean body, average height, wearing blue jeans, long-sleeved flannel shirt, baseball cap, and well-worn work boots.

There was a lighthearted air to his step as he walked to the back of the van, as if he were on a fun day out.

His looks were unremarkable and he could disappear into a crowd, but despite his jaunty walk there was a rage lurking just beneath the surface.

Taking a moment, he stared out into the darkness.

The forest seemed to whisper to him its secrets and demands.

The evening was still, frosty, the trees remaining quiet as the cool air brushed against his face, though he perspired.

Several times he unconsciously curled his fingers into tight fists and then released them—part of his ritual as the forest welcomed him.

He opened the doors to reveal an old rolled-up rug. The man pushed up his sleeves and pulled it out, dropping it on the ground. He began to slowly unroll it with his boot, revealing a mass of heavy plastic tarp…and inside it, the shape of a body.

Picking up one end, the man easily slid the tarp toward the front of the van.

The headlights shone on the lifeless distorted face trapped beneath the plastic.

She had long dark hair, pale waxy skin, and a frozen terrified expression with fixed and wide eyes that stared back, making it almost impossible to escape her gaze.

It almost appeared as if she had been surprised by her fate.

The man moved to the back of the van again and returned to the light with a large white bucket, a rope, and a backpack.

Pulling on a pair of gloves, he began to unload various items from the bucket and put them into the backpack for transport.

He took his time, seeming undaunted about being out in the open at night.

Finally satisfied, he shut off the van’s headlights, and the area went dark.

He waited, unmoving, savoring the blackness, as if it gave him strength.

After a few more minutes, he slung the backpack over his shoulders, secured a strap around his waist, and then switched on a headlamp, affixing it over his cap to light his path.

He easily dragged the body into the forest. The sound of something heavy sliding along the rural path had an eerie echo, making it difficult to know where the noise was coming from.

It sounded here, there, and everywhere. The flashlight beam flickered in between the trees, like a bulb that was beginning to burn out, until it became completely dark again.