Chapter 103
ONE HUNDRED THREE
Midnight Ridge Lodge
The snow was finally letting up, the wind dying down, although the roads were still dangerous. Thankfully most locals knew the area and were smart enough not to brave the switchbacks on a night like this.
Still, it impeded the drive, and Ellie desperately wanted to get to Midnight Ridge to make sure Cord was safe.
And to talk to Larry Wheaton.
“Wheaton’s son was Wallace, AKA Wally Wheaton,” Derrick said. Before they’d left the hospital, he’d put a call back into Bennett, who was feeding him intel through an emergency FBI backup cell source.
Ellie would take all the help they could get.
“Apparently he confessed to pushing his wife off Midnight Ridge twenty years ago, stating that she was trying to throw their son off the ridge.”
Ellie jerked her gaze to his. “The mother tried to kill her son?”
“According to Bennett’s research, although the story is muddy. He dug deeper and spoke to the therapist in the prison where Wheaton was incarcerated. According to her, in Wheaton’s last few years of incarceration, he’d questioned his wife and son’s story.”
“What does that mean?” Ellie asked as she carefully veered onto the road leading to the lodge.
“That he recounted memories of the accusations his wife made about the son. Accusations that at the time he hadn’t believed.”
“Which were?” Ellie asked, her heart drumming.
“That he was violent and cruel. Bullied kids. Killed animals, especially crows. That he’d created a mural of crow’s feathers on the wall in the attic. That he beheaded some crows and smeared blood all over the walls and her bed.”
“My God,” Ellie murmured. Her stomach roiled as the image of the crow’s feathers on her driveway flashed back, then the dead crow on her bed.
“I know you’re thinking about the way the unsub degraded your own house. Ellie. This could be the same guy. And if the wife was right, he was dangerous as a kid.”
“Fits the profile of a serial killer,” Ellie said. “Maybe Wheaton knows where his son is now.”
A muscle ticked in Derrick’s jaw as she parked off the road about a half mile from the lodge. “We have to hike in. If he’s at the lodge, he can’t see us coming,” Ellie said.
“Agreed.”
She cut the engine, and they geared up with winter wear, their weapons, radios and flashlights. Still the area was so dark, and the whiteout conditions made it difficult to see a foot in front of her. Worry for Cord forced her to keep walking though. She’d run through fire for that man.
From the ridge below, lights illuminated the darkness.
“What the hell?” Derrick murmured.
“The Believers,” Ellie said. “They must have gathered for a vigil.”
“Are they insane?” Derrick asked as he checked his Glock and shoved an extra magazine into his pocket. “Didn’t McClain tell them to go home? That it’s not safe out tonight?”
Ellie glanced down at the ray of lights, touched by the scene. “I’m sure he did. But I suppose they believe their faith can help and will keep them safe.”
Derrick shook his head. “I just hope they don’t die from hypothermia from those beliefs. Or that our unsub doesn’t hurt one of them.”
Ellie considered the power of prayer that was the mantra of the Believers. Doubting people and faith had definitely become more challenging with the job. Derrick’s had been shattered when his little sister had disappeared years ago.
But something about the lights from below, the soft chanting of the Believers’ voices rising through the fog of the blizzard, actually sparked her hope.
“We’ll check on them once we talk to Cord and see who’s inside the lodge.” She adjusted her goggles, then braced her gun at the ready and led the way up the hill, praying they weren’t walking into a trap.