Chapter Fifteen #2
Amy drew a breath. “I understand. So we need to be nice. That’s going to be hard, Ronan.”
“Then just don’t be hostile,” Ronan said, running his hands over his face. “Howard, can you have PR prepare a statement that Amy can give when she gets calls from the press?”
Because there would be press. It hadn’t been a problem when Dianne was killed. An innkeeper killed in the night was awful, but not salacious. However, word of the bodies found yesterday would spread fast. And now they had another victim.
This was going to be a media circus.
“Of course,” Howard said. “Amy, you’re authorized to give people our statement and to say that Elle Randolph is not a suspect at this time. Are we clear?”
“Yes sir.” Amy stood, squaring her shoulders. “Should I text you Judith’s home address, Ronan?”
“Yes,” Ronan said.
“Send it to Gary Simpson, too,” Howard instructed. “He’s officially assigned to this case, but don’t tell the media that. Not yet. It would be nice if Ronan and Gary could do their jobs without worrying that they’ll be observed or overheard.”
Amy excused herself and left Ronan’s office, closing the door behind her.
Ronan pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is bad, Howard.”
“Yeah, I know. Everyone will know that Judith wasn’t killed by Reece Miller because he and his wife were both taken into custody yesterday. You need to get ahead of this. Make sure we don’t have a mob out to get Ms. Randolph.”
Ronan nodded once. “Yes, sir.”
So much for going home to get some sleep.
He had another murder.
Fort Bragg, California
Tuesday, February 3, 9:30 a.m.
“Elle?” Alexis gripped her shoulder. “Elle, honey, what’s wrong?”
Elle didn’t move. Couldn’t move. She just stared at the screen of her laptop, now gone dark.
When had that happened? How long had she been staring at nothing?
Numb. She was becoming accustomed to feeling numb.
“Another,” she whispered.
Alexis crouched beside the chair in the corner of their room at the inn where Elle had been sitting all night, her eyes widening in horrified understanding. “Another homicide?”
“Eight total now, including Dora Crick and Cathy Martinelli.”
They’d found the four yesterday—Kasey Arnold, Steve Garfield, and the two growers. Plus Dianne. And now one more.
Eight. Eight people were dead who shouldn’t be.
Warm hands took hers and she shivered. She was so cold.
“Ellie, your hands are like ice. How long have you been sitting here?”
Elle shrugged listlessly. “All night.”
Alexis had been fast asleep, courtesy of her eye mask and the Ativan she’d taken off and on since law school.
“Oh, Ellie.”
“I’m not even finished yet, Alexis. I only got through half the places I’ve been in the last two years. There could be more.”
Eight people, dead because of me. “I can’t stay here.
” She lurched to her feet and dragged her backpack from under the bed.
Alexis had bought it at Walmart last night.
Because my duffel bag is in my old room because someone fucking bugged me.
“Don’t say it isn’t my fault. Don’t say it isn’t personal.
It doesn’t matter. Those people are still dead.
” She whirled, gasping when Alexis was much closer than Elle had thought she’d be.
“Where are you going to go?”
Elle picked up the Walmart bag and dumped its contents into the backpack. Jeans, a sweatshirt. Two pairs of gloves. Socks. Underwear. Alexis had been thorough, as usual.
“There are places I can hide. Places where there are no people. I can go back to that ranch in Willits. Use the tent that Miller and his wife were camping in.” A hysterical laugh bubbled up and she shoved it back down. “They aren’t using it anymore and the growers are no longer a problem.”
Because they were dead, too.
This is insane. I feel insane. Her world was in free fall and she couldn’t make it stop. It was like skydiving without a parachute.
“Elle.”
Elle shrugged off Alexis’s hand. “Leave me alone, please. I love you and appreciate you and I don’t want you to die, either. Just…go.”
“Like hell I’m going.” Alexis grabbed the backpack and yanked. For a moment they were both pulling at it, like children playing tug-of-war.
Elle let the backpack go and Alexis stumbled backward, regaining her balance just as someone knocked on their door.
Eyes narrowed, Alexis pointed at her. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying here, and we are fixing this mess.” She opened the door, revealing a grim-faced Ronan.
He knows. He knows there’s another.
Elle wanted to flee, but she was frozen. Her feet would not move.
“Elle?” Ronan asked, his voice deep and rumbly, and she remembered how it felt when he’d held her. She wanted him to hold her again.
I’m so tired.
Tired of death. Tired of danger.
I’m tired of doing this alone.
“Can you two come with me? I don’t want to talk here. Just in case.”