Page 70 of The Sleeping Girls

“What were you doing here?” she asked, her voice loud over the crackling fiery blaze.

He looked up, dazed and confused. “You followed me?”

The accusation in his tone infuriated her. “I came by your house to ask you about Digger and your father.”

He coughed again, staggering slightly, and they hurried back around front. He collapsed into the driver’s seat of his Bronco in a coughing fit.

“An ambulance is on its way,” she told him. “Was anyone inside?”

He shook his head and ran a shaky hand over his face. “I didn’t see anyone.”

“Why did you come here?” Ellie asked.

“That podcaster Caitlin… Her studio… Wanted to talk to her… Thought Digger might have come to see her.”

Ellie had put a call in to her earlier but she hadn’t answered. “Was she here?”

“Don’t know,” he muttered.

A chill ripped through Ellie. “Wait here. An ambulance and fire truck are on the way. I’ll take a look around.”

Ellie grabbed her flashlight from the Jeep and set off to search the premises. Wind howled and brought the acrid odor of charred wood and ash. Heat blazed into the night. Sparks flew from the crumbling debris.

She circled the house, then found the back door. No way inside. It was completely engulfed. But she saw footprints near the back. One was probably Heath’s. No, when he’d come out of the studio, he hadn’t gone toward the woods.

But there was definitely another set. Brush crushed. Smashed weeds.

She followed the tracks to the edge of the woods, shining the light around. A second later, she spotted the O’Connor womanlying on a bed of grass. She was so still Ellie thought she was dead.

SEVENTY-SEVEN

Ellie knelt beside the woman and checked for a pulse. Seconds ticked by. A minute then two. “Come on, Caitlin,” she murmured. “Wake up.”

She held her own breath, waiting. Listening. Finally, she felt a flutter of hope. She had a pulse. It was low and thready. But at least Caitlin was alive.

Ellie checked for wounds, a gunshot or knife, but no sign she’d been shot or stabbed. Gently she eased her tangled hair from her face, her breath stalling in her chest at the sight of bruises around the woman’s neck.

Someone had tried to kill her.

She raced back to Heath where he sat still stunned and coughing in the front seat of his Bronco. “I found Caitlin O’Connor outside by the woods. She’s alive, but barely breathing. Someone tried to strangle her.”

“God.” Heath scrubbed his hand over his face.

“Did you see Digger here?” Ellie asked.

“No… but why would he hurt that woman? She was helping him.” He started to climb from the vehicle, but Ellie pressed her hand to his chest. “Wait here for the ambulance, call an ERT and then search Ms. O’Connor’s car. I’m going to look around.” Shephoned Derrick as she walked around the back of the burning studio. “It’s Ellie.” She explained about following Landrum and that the O’Connor woman was injured. “Someone set fire to her studio. I found her outside.”

How was that? Ellie thought. Had she staggered out, then collapsed?

“Ambulance and fire engine are on their way. Landrum’s calling an ERT.”

“You think it was Woodruff?” Derrick asked.

“I don’t know. Why would he hurt the one person helping him?”

“Maybe she uncovered evidence that would put him back in prison,” Derrick suggested.

“That’s possible, I suppose.” Ellie glanced back at the fire. “We need to know what she found, but whoever tried to kill her set her studio on fire. Most likely to destroy evidence. Hopefully she kept back-up copies of her research at her home?”