Page 68 of The Sleeping Girls

Seconds ticked by. Then minutes. A siren wailed.

Two medics rushed in and pushed his father aside and took over. One of them shook his head and muttered, “No pulse.”

Footsteps pounded the floor. Police ran in.

“He killed her,” his father screamed to the police.

An officer yanked Digger by the arm and dragged him outside.

Digger blinked, straining to recall more details. To remember why he would have hurt his sister. She was a pest, yes. Had followed him around like a puppy dog.

She was also pretty and sweet. The senior guys at school had started chasing her, asking her out.

He’d seen one asswipe pull her behind the bleachers and start groping her. She’d pushed him away and started crying.

Digger had beat the crap out of the guy.

He slid from the car now and walked up to the small building. A Honda Accord was parked in the lot. A light was burning inside. Caitlin must still be here.

Raindrops pinged off the ground as he approached the small wooden house. The signage swayed in the wind.

He needed to know everything she’d learned about his case. Why she believed in him when no one else had. Maybe she’d help prove his innocence now, with this latest murder.

Sweating, he reached the door, then tried the knob. Unlocked.

Not very smart, Caitlin. Anybody could walk right in.

Not wanting to frighten her in case she was armed, he knocked. No answer. He glanced around the property to see if anyone else was around. No one. Barring the howl of the wind, the place was quiet.

He knocked again and tapped his foot on the ground. No answer again. No sounds from inside. Then he realized if she was taping, she probably was wearing headphones or her studio was soundproofed for recording.

Slowly, he eased the door open. “Ms. O’Connor,” he called out as he entered the small reception area. A desk faced the door, but it was empty. He called her name again, walked down the hall and found the sound room.

He knocked on it. “Ms. O’Connor?”

Outside, the rain beat at the roof. The floor creaked. He jiggled the doorknob and the door swung open.

He went still, the blood roaring in his ears. She was lying on the floor, face down, arms and legs at an odd angle.

A knot of panic seized him and he raced toward her.

SEVENTY-FOUR

RED HAWK RIDGE

Ellie’s head ached as she parked in between some trees at the end of Red Hawk Road near Deputy Landrum’s.

She’d tried calling but he hadn’t answered so she’d decided to pay him a visit. She hated distrusting him. He’d worked for her for three years now, had been a solid deputy, was tech-savvy and followed orders.

But he’d withheld important information from her on this one. Had known the MO matched Digger’s and covered for him.

Frustration gnawed at her gut as she watched through the fog for his vehicle. If he knew where Digger was, would he warn him to run?

The rain slowed to a drizzle, the sky black with night. A streak of lightning zipped over the tops of the trees and somewhere she heard a boom as if it had struck. A transformer could have blown. Or lightning hit a tree and knocked it down.

She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. Exhaustion tugged at her, and she rolled her shoulders to alleviate the tension. Her body needed a bed and some sleep.

But how could she sleep knowing Kelsey’s killer was still on the loose and that Ruby was probably dead?