Wildflower Graves: A totally gripping mystery thriller (Detective Ellie Reeves Book 2) Read online

  Wildflower Graves

  A totally gripping mystery thriller

  Rita Herron

  Books by Rita Herron

  Detective Ellie Reeves

  1. The Silent Dolls

  2. Wildflower Graves

  Available in audio

  The Silent Dolls (available in the UK and the US)

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  Chapter 88

  Chapter 89

  Chapter 90

  Chapter 91

  Chapter 92

  Chapter 93

  Chapter 94

  Chapter 95

  Chapter 96

  Chapter 97

  Chapter 98

  Chapter 99

  Chapter 100

  Chapter 101

  Chapter 102

  Chapter 103

  Chapter 104

  Chapter 105

  Chapter 106

  Chapter 107

  Chapter 108

  Chapter 109

  Chapter 110

  Chapter 111

  Chapter 112

  Chapter 113

  Chapter 114

  Chapter 115

  Chapter 116

  Chapter 117

  Chapter 118

  Chapter 119

  Chapter 120

  Chapter 121

  Chapter 122

  Chapter 123

  Chapter 124

  Chapter 125

  Chapter 126

  Chapter 127

  Chapter 128

  Chapter 129

  Chapter 130

  Chapter 131

  Chapter 132

  Chapter 133

  Chapter 134

  Chapter 135

  Chapter 136

  Chapter 137

  Chapter 138

  Chapter 139

  Chapter 140

  Chapter 141

  Chapter 142

  Chapter 143

  Chapter 144

  Chapter 145

  Chapter 146

  Chapter 147

  Chapter 148

  Chapter 149

  Chapter 150

  The Silent Dolls

  Hear More from Rita

  Books by Rita Herron

  A Letter from Rita

  Acknowledgments

  To my mother, who raised me during hard times, taught me about country living, family, being tough and about what’s important in life.

  Prologue

  White Lilies Cemetery

  The angel’s voice echoed in the mountain wind as he knelt and traced a finger over her tombstone. But the devil’s sinister laughter rose above it. The devil had won. He had snatched her life before she even had a chance to live it.

  Images of the dead children that had been found along the Appalachian Trail three weeks ago flashed behind his eyes. Their killer was in prison. But where was the justice? It didn’t bring the little girls back.

  His heart aching, he dropped tiny wildflowers over the small mound. Although lilies marked the front entrance of the graveyard, purple was her favorite color. She liked purple popsicles and purple headbands and her purple comforter. He pictured her smiling at him as he read her bedtime stories, mimicking the animal noises in the tales. She would giggle as he tickled her belly.

  He’d grown up seeing the worst in life. He’d been beaten, taught to make the weak ones suffer. To make the women obey. To punish them.

  Then she had come along.

  He’d never thought he had a soft bone in his evil body. That he could care about anyone as much as he cared about her. And he’d tried his damnedest to save her.

  But he’d failed.

  No one knew the truth about what had happened. And if he told them, they wouldn’t believe him.

  Anger made him cold inside, cold all over. She shouldn’t be dead. But she was gone. And it was time to make someone pay for it.

  One

  Friday

  Crooked Creek, Georgia

  “How does it feel to know your parents covered for a serial killer?”

  Detective Ellie Reeves shifted restlessly in her seat. That was a loaded question and one she didn’t know how to answer. Not to the local press or to this therapist.

  Not even to herself.

  Nervous energy made her tap her foot on the wood floor of the counselor’s office. She’d resisted seeing a shrink since her life had fallen apart three weeks ago, just as she’d resisted a tell-all with the press. They were already having a field day torching her parents for what they’d done.

  She couldn’t blame them either.

  The therapist, a slender woman with a chin-length brown bob named Kennedy Sledge, cleared her throat.

  “Take your time and tell me what happened,” she said softly.

  Ellie stared at her fingernails where she’d chewed them down to the nubs.

  “I know you saw the news. A little girl named Penny Matthews went missing a few weeks ago. While looking for her, I learned she was part of a serial killer’s pattern that went back two decades. They called him the Ghost. He lured his victims, all young girls, with small wooden dolls he carved.”

  “Yes, I saw the news.” The counselor nodded encouragement.
“But you saved and rescued Penny and another child that was taken.”

  Ellie nodded, taking some comfort in the fact that the little girls were back with their families. She’d thought once that case was solved Crooked Creek would return to normal, hosting small-town festivals, porch sitting and potluck dinners.

  “Ellie?” the therapist prompted when the silence stretched between them.

  Ellie took a deep breath. “I discovered that the man who took them was my mother’s illegitimate son, who she gave up for adoption ten years before I was born. Mom was only a teenager when she got pregnant. Her parents, especially her father, insisted the baby, Hiram, would be better off in a home with two parents.” Now that she’d started talking, the words spewed from her. “Although Mom thought he was in a happy family, she felt guilty about giving him up. So she adopted me when I was three.”

  Kennedy drummed two fingers on her desk, and Ellie noticed a tiny scar on her wrist. “So you are not blood related to Hiram?”

  Ellie shook her head. “No, but that hasn’t been made public knowledge yet. When Hiram was fourteen, he found out about me. He hated my mother, Vera. But most of all he resented me for taking her away from him.”

  “But you didn’t take her away from him, Ellie.”

  Perspiration beaded on Ellie’s forehead and she wiped it away with a shaky hand. “No, but he believed I did. Anyway, to cut a long story short. When I was five, he lured me into the woods and left me trapped in a cave. When my father found me, and I told him the boy’s name was Hiram, my parents moved us to Stony Gap and changed our names.” Her stomach churned. “Then Hiram started taking other little girls. He killed them because he… wanted to kill me.”

  Suddenly feeling ill, she remembered the sight of the children’s graves she’d found in the woods of the Appalachian Mountains. She stood. “This is a waste of time. Talking won’t change anything.”

  “Processing your feelings can help you move on,” the counselor said. “I know you’re angry with your parents.”

  “They lied to me all my life,” Ellie said, her voice cracking. “And they suspected Hiram but didn’t come forward.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “People in town think I knew. And that we covered for a killer. I’m a detective––how does that make me look?”

  Either complicit or incompetent. Neither elicited trust from the citizens of Bluff County.

  The therapist made a note on her notepad. “How are your parents handling the accusations?”

  Ellie picked at her cuticles. “They’ve been charged with withholding evidence and accessory to murder, but they’ve attained a big-shot attorney who promised he’d get the charges dropped, starting an uproar in town.” Heat climbed her neck. “Everywhere I go, I hear the whispers and see the stares.”

  Through the window the sun was shining like a beacon, nearly blinding her just as her parents lies had.

  Kennedy leaned forward, arms on the desk. “There’s an online group you should join. Women talking to each other, sharing, offering support. It’s secure, anonymous, so you don’t have to divulge your real identity if you don’t want to.” The counselor pushed a business card toward her, and Ellie reluctantly slipped it into her pocket.

  Unsettled at the idea of pouring out her heart to strangers, Ellie paced across the room, noting the woman’s credentials on the wall and books that filled the bookshelf. They covered a range of psychological subjects––eating disorders, depression and anxiety, behavioral disorders.

  She’d never been one to surround herself with female friends. Truth be known, Officer Shondra Eastwood, her colleague, was her only female friend. They’d bonded because of their mutual dislike for Bryce Waters, Bluff County’s sheriff.

  “I’ll think about it. Right now, I just need to get back to work,” Ellie finally answered.

  Work was her salvation, even though her reputation with Crooked Creek’s police department was shaky to say the least. Her own parents had fooled her. How could she trust her judgment now?

  “So you’re back at work already?” Kennedy asked.

  Ellie bit down on her lower lip. “Actually, my boss, Captain Hale, ordered me to take time off to heal and let the dust settle.” Or maybe he was questioning her abilities, too.

  “How do you feel about being adopted?” the counselor pressed.

  Ellie frowned. Rejected. “Like the woman who gave birth to me didn’t want me.”

  But she’d said enough for the day. Emotions were battling their way to the surface, emotions she couldn’t afford to confront.

  “I need to go,” she said. Not bothering to wait for a response, she stormed out the door.

  Two

  Saturday

  Stony Gap, Georgia

  The next morning, Ellie’s stomach churned as she sped toward the sheriff’s office. She should have laid off the vodka last night. Should have just left town.

  But a glutton for punishment, here she was on her way to watch Bryce Waters be sworn in as the new sheriff of Bluff County, the job Ellie had wanted all her life.

  Her phone buzzed as she turned onto Main Street. Looking down, she saw it was Angelica Gomez, from WRIX Channel 5 News. Dammit, the reporter wouldn’t give up.

  Shaking her head in irritation, she let it roll to voicemail. Remembering that Angelica was lining up an interview with Hiram, Ellie listened to the message. She wanted to know if he had divulged any more secrets, most specifically if he’d had an accomplice.

  “Detective, I’m meeting with Hiram,” the reporter said in her message. “But everyone wants to hear your side of the story. Call me.”

  Ellie muttered a curse. Angelica wanted answers. The town wanted answers. Ellie herself wanted answers. Who didn’t?

  Angelica’s voice echoed in her ears. Don’t you want to set the record straight? Help people understand? Quiet the gossip?

  Gossip fueled by Meddlin’ Maude and the busybodies in town who had nothing better to do than keep the rumor mill turning at the Beauty Barn while Carol Sue covered their gray with foils and teased the hell out of lifeless hair made worse by dye and lacquered spray.

  Her mother’s so-called friends, including Edwina the mayor’s wife and the ladies at the Garden Club, had abandoned her the moment the news had broken. They no longer cared if Vera could win prizes with her violets. She had been ostracized like a wilted flower from the garden extravaganza they sponsored every year.

  Ellie almost felt sorry for her.

  But Vera’s words reverberated in Ellie’s mind like a bad horror movie. I had to protect you because you were my daughter. I had to protect Hiram because he was my blood.

  Then the whispers in the town: How could Ellie not know her brother was killing all those girls?

  Do you think she let her parents get away with covering for that monster?

  It’s her fault those little girls died.

  Is she stupid? Or evil like Hiram?

  A shudder coursed through Ellie.

  You can’t avoid the media forever, Angelica had said.

  So far, she had. The pain cut too damn deep.

  Hell yes, she wanted to quiet the talk in town. But opening up would only stoke the flames of suspicion.

  Spring rain slashed the windshield, promising that the dead brown leaves scattering the ground would make way for green, but Ellie felt dead inside herself.

  The sound of other cars around her and the presence of the news van made her stomach twist into a knot as she pulled into a parking spot in front of Town Hall.

  Magically, as if Bryce had ordered the downpour to stop for his inauguration, the rain ceased. A commotion on the lawn jerked her back to the matter at hand, and she watched as locals flooded the square where Angelica and her cameraman had set up. Climbing from her Jeep, she inhaled the scent of rain and grass, which still remained brittle in the wake of the blizzard that had just raged along the east coast. The ground was slushy, the wind rolling off the mountain, a biting cold that had lingered as if the shadow of death ho
vered close by.