Chapter 40
Forty
Black Rock Falls
After Rhett dropped her alongside the park on Main, Beth crossed the road and looked both ways along the sidewalk, trying to decide how she wanted to plan her afternoon.
As she would be on foot, she first made her way to the convenience store.
She prided herself at carrying an amazing amount of useful items in her pockets but a tote for carrying shopping wasn’t one of them.
She went inside the convenience store and to a display of totes easily carried over one shoulder.
After selecting something suitable, she gathered a bottle of water and a few snacks.
The convenience store in Black Rock Falls was larger than she imagined.
She’d been in town a number of times but only dropped by the grocery store or Guns and Ammo, and she browsed along the aisles, collecting a few personal items she needed.
Searching through one of the shelves, she noticed a man loaded up with unusual items. She paused as her FBI training slid in into place.
She’d been trained to notice behavioral traits in people, and the man with a cowboy hat pulled down over his eyes and sunglasses glanced both ways each time he selected an item to add to his cart.
Beth moved along the opposite aisle, trying to get a better look inside his cart.
The man had selected a long list of very suspicious items: a packet of screws, metal brackets like the ones seen to attach the chair to the floor of the cabin where Zoe had been held, gaffer tape, rope, plastic gloves, work gloves, and three bottles of bleach.
As the man turned away, Beth glanced out of the shop front window and her breath caught.
She recognized the truck outside. It was one of many used by the hands from Lawson’s Ridge.
Earlier in the day, Rhett had mentioned that some of the hands had been allowed to leave the ranch to go into town to collect a few things.
Could this man be purchasing items for the ranch or had she allowed her overenthusiastic detective side to get the better of her?
She couldn’t reveal herself. Most of the hands would recognize her as the FBI agent who was working the case of the dead woman in the cattle grave.
She moved along the aisle to the display of hats that she’d noticed on the way in and selected a large straw cowboy hat.
Looking both ways to make sure no one was around, she placed her tote in the cart alongside her items and removed the hatpin clips from her hair, unfastened her ponytail and, scooping up her hair, fashioned it into a bun on the top of her head and secured it with the pins.
She tore the price label from the hat, pushed it onto her head, and grabbed a pair of sunglasses from another display close by.
She glanced in the mirror beside the display—she would do.
With the labels held tightly in her hand, she pushed her cart to the checkout and purchased all the items. She could hear the man moving along the aisle, pushing his cart toward her, as she grabbed up the tote filled with her purchases and fled through the door.
She moved her gaze over the truck. Parked nose-in at the curb was indeed a Lawson’s Ridge truck.
Fear of being identified gripped her and she stepped hurriedly into a store doorway as the man came out carrying plastic sacks and tossed them into the front seat.
He climbed behind the wheel and headed out of town in the opposite direction of the ranch.
She needed to follow him but had no transport.
Scanning the road, she noticed an old green pickup idling outside the grocery store.
The owner was nowhere in sight, and without a second thought, she sprinted toward it, jumped behind the wheel, slammed the old vehicle into reverse, and backed out onto Main.
She spun the wheel around and headed in the direction the Lawson’s truck had driven.
As luck would have it, Main led to Stanton, a highway that ran straight for a mile or so.
In the distance she could clearly make out the truck.
The silver pickup moved at a normal speed, ahead of two other vehicles.
She pushed the old truck’s gas to the floor and it surprised her by picking up speed quickly.
Someone had kept it in excellent condition.
As Beth passed the signs for the forest ranger’s station, she noticed the truck heading left along a fire road.
Fire roads throughout Stanton Forest gave access to smaller trails leading to cabins throughout the forest and also to swimming or fishing holes along the river that ran from the falls.
Beth increased her speed. It would be easy to lose him in the dense pines.
Sunlight poured between the trunks, creating zebra stripes that flashed hypnotically the faster she drove.
She pressed one hand against her face to shield her eyes from the flashing light just in time to see the silver truck head down a dirt road.
She slowed, not wanting to be seen, and peered between the dense trees trying to make out which direction it went.
The many times she’d flown over Stanton Forest with Styles she’d noticed how fire roads ran in parallel lines all throughout the forest, in both directions.
The dirt road could just be a connection between two fire roads.
She would need to proceed with the utmost caution to avoid being seen if this was a suspect in the murder of Marie Reyes—but then, the items the man had purchased could be perfectly innocent, and she had no way of knowing for sure.
She could almost hear Styles reprimanding her for going it alone but pushed it away.
Surely, he wouldn’t expect her to call for backup when she’d only acted on a hunch.
Beth waited until she could no longer see the silver truck and eased the old pickup along the dirt road, scanning the forest in all directions for any sign of movement.
When sunlight reflected from the truck’s back window as it turned, she accelerated, catching up just as the truck turned onto another fire road that headed in the direction of the river.
Keeping well back, she coaxed the old truck along close to the edge of the trees, glad that it blended into the forest. Finding a green truck idling so close when she needed one had been nothing short of a miracle.
It must be her lucky day. When she drove around a curve in the road, the fire road opened up, but the silver truck had vanished.
She moved slowly forward and stopped close to another narrow trail.
She buzzed down her window, killed the motor, and listened.
The sound of an engine running was almost muffled by the bubbling river but moments later the motor stopped.
Beth removed the hat, swung open the door of the pickup, and climbed up on the seat.
She peered over the roof and into the forest. Through the trees in the distance, she made out the roof of a cabin.
A cool breeze rustled the trees around her as she carefully shut the door to the pickup.
Wrapping her jacket around her and zipping it up, Beth crept through the forest. The deep underbrush around caught her legs and made a ripping sound against her jeans.
She stopped walking and peered ahead, concerned she might be making too much noise.
She caught movement near the cabin and took cover behind a tree.
A man climbed from the truck carrying the plastic sacks containing his purchases.
He opened the door and stepped inside. Heart pounding, Beth headed for the trail leading to the cabin and, keeping in the shadows, moved swiftly until she reached the wall of the roughly built cabin.
The building was old and dilapidated, but the roof and walls appeared to be in good order and a brand-new padlock was hanging from a lock on the front door.
Bending low and creeping slowly, she edged her way around the building, keeping below the bottoms of the two windows out front.
At the back, she found a closed door and an outhouse that leaned precariously to one side with many of the wooden panels missing.
Beside the back door, dust and grime covered a small window.
Not many situations scared Beth, but she paused to take a long deep breath before peering through the window.
The wide-open front door spilled light into the cabin, giving her a clear view of the interior and the truck outside.
She ducked down as the man returned to the truck.
He now had a bandana tied around his face and his hat remained low.
It would be impossible to identify him. Beth peeked again and he lifted his head as if he knew she watched him.
Just in time, she moved away from the window, freezing in place and hardly daring to take a breath.
A shiver skittered down her spine as she waited, listening for any sounds from inside.
She heard the whir of a drill and footsteps on the wooden floor before looking again.
The man set about securing an old wooden chair to the floor.
Once he’d finished, he emptied the items he’d purchased onto a small kitchen counter.
He pulled on disposable plastic gloves and unwrapped the gaffer tape and the newly purchased rope.
All the wrappings he pushed into the sacks he’d gotten from the store and then took a rag from his pocket and meticulously wiped down all the surfaces he’d touched, including the chair.
Beth narrowed her eyes as she stared at the scene.
It was exactly the same as the cabin from where Zoe had escaped.
The man had created another kill room. She stood with her back to the wall breathing heavily.
She needed proof of what she’d found and pulled out her phone.
Peeking around the window frame again to make sure that the man hadn’t seen her, she aimed her phone and captured as many images as possible.
She’d taken shots through the open door as well and caught photographs of the silver truck’s license plate.
Even if it wasn’t owned by this man, it would carry his prints and DNA because he sure as heck wasn’t wearing gloves when he drove it into town.
As he made ready to leave, Beth ducked away, creeping through the underbrush until she reached the trees.
She had all the evidence she needed for a sting operation.
She pushed her phone back into her pocket and zipped it up.
She would call Jenna as soon as she arrived safely back in town.
Behind her she heard the sound of an engine starting and a crunching sound as the truck headed back along the trail.
A twig snapped behind her, and in a split second a thick arm came around her neck.
A gloved hand pressed against her forehead, holding her tight in a headlock.
If she moved, he would break her neck. She went for her weapon but couldn’t get through the zipped jacket.
Where had he come from? She’d seen the other man drive away.
Dammit, Jenna had considered more than one killer and she’d dropped her guard.
A wave of panic shuddered through her—she hadn’t called it in and no one would be coming.
She must deal with him alone. The fear turned to anger in a wave of strength that only a psychopathic killer would understand.
This man had beaten women to death over decades and gotten away with it.
If she survived, he would pay—with his life.
His arm pressed so tight under her chin she couldn’t open her mouth to speak. She spread her legs and pressed back against him to gauge his height and weight. This man was as strong as a bull and smelled like one—fighting him would be useless.
“Well, well, look what we have here.” The man’s rough voice was so close to her ear she could feel his breath on her flesh and smell his rancid breath.
“I lose one, and another walks straight to me. I followed your scent and saw you prying into my business—you need a good beating, woman. I’m going to teach you a lesson.
” He chuckled. “The Lord sure does work in mysterious ways.”