Bring Me Flowers_A gripping serial-killer thriller with a shocking twist Read online

  “It’s safe, there are deputies everywhere.” Emily tossed her long blonde hair over one shoulder and turned to her father. “I’m going to the bathroom with Julia and then getting a hot dog. We’ll be back soon.”

  “I’ll walk over with you.” Wolfe’s cheek twitched.

  “Dad, please. I’m seventeen not seven.” Emily’s eyes flashed with anger. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be a few feet away and make sure I’m in a crowd. Okay? Watch my things. I’ll be back in five.” She pulled a bill out of her wallet then dropped it with her cellphone on the table.

  “Don’t you think you should take your phone?”

  “I’m hardly going to be making calls while I’m peeing and I have my brooch as a backup if anything happens. Stop worrying.” Emily flounced off with her friend and disappeared into the throng of noisy people.

  They sat in awkward silence for some time and Jenna noticed the way Wolfe checked his watch then his cellphone every few minutes. She cleared her throat. “Why don’t you ask Rowley if he can see her? He is at the bar to watching Provine. He should be able to see the refreshments stand from there.”

  She waited, listening to the conversation in her earbud. Apparently, Rowley had not seen Emily buying hot dogs at all but there was a long line. Her attention fixed on Wolfe, who was drumming his fingers on the table in agitation. “Can’t you locate her via her tracker?”

  “Yeah.” Wolfe’s brow furrowed as he held up his cellphone to display the screen. “It gives her location as the fairgrounds. As this area isn’t in the maps, it comes up as a single location. It doesn’t tell me exactly where she is in the area at this moment.”

  “Would you like me to check the ladies’ room? No doubt there will be quite a wait there as well.”

  “Yeah, thanks. I wish she had taken her phone with her.” Wolfe offered her a weak smile. “I know I’m overprotective but after what’s happened this week, I have cause.”

  “Not a problem.” Jenna strolled toward the door.

  Fifty

  He mingled with the crowd, enjoying a hot dog and commiserating with everyone’s complaints and worries about the murders of the young girls, but deep inside he reveled in their distress. The constant chatter and suspicious glances from everyone brought the reward of the last images of his dead girls. They would never see the pale skin and staring eyes of his girls or watch the life slip away like the snuffing of a candle. Those memories belonged only to him.

  After joining a group of parents huddled protectively around their children, he scanned the area. Of course, most young girls had adults protecting them but not all the girls listened to the warnings of their parents. His attention moved to Deputy Wolfe’s daughter, Emily, and her new friend Julia as they made their way, unescorted, from the hall. Arousal hit him in a rush. He wanted Julia. He smiled inwardly, how trusting she was; in fact, he could have plucked her from the street a number of times during the week and not a soul would have known, but the idea of an easy kill had not interested him. Here under the noses of everyone would mean his crimes would be infamous and he would live forever.

  He eased his way through the crowd and out the door, nodding congenially at everyone he passed then caught sight of the girls making for the ladies’ room. Thrills ran through him at the idea of killing both of them but doing so would be difficult with so many people strolling the fairgrounds and with more deputies on duty than ever before. One girl will have to do for now.

  To avoid anyone seeing him near Julia, he turned away and headed for a suitable hiding place. A cool breeze had dried the slick of sweat on his brow by the time he reached the dark entrance to a hay barn. From his position, he could view the people coming in and out of the dance. He touched the knife at his waist, the leather sheath well concealed by his long shirt. Time would be of the essence; he could not linger to enjoy cutting his girl. He grinned. Although the one in the forest had whet his appetite for more quick kills. The startled look in her eyes and the way she trembled as the life flowed from her would remain with him for a long time.

  He stared at the ladies’ room door then checked his pockets to make sure he had everything he needed. His cellphone slipped into his hand and he wet his lips. Excitement curled in his belly. In his dark hiding place, she would not see him. He chuckled and watched the deputies patrolling the other end of the fairgrounds.

  None of them could outsmart him.

  He would have two more girls before leaving Black Rock Falls. He craved to hold Emily Wolfe’s life in his hands despite her father being a deputy, and then to kill the sheriff slowly—although not the age he preferred, she would fight well and be worth the effort. Cloaked in shadows, he leaned casually against the doorframe, his gaze resting on the wide walkway sloping down toward the promenade.

  “I’m waiting for you, Julia.”

  Fifty-One

  Moving through the mass of hot bodies and inhaling a variety of odors, Jenna made it out the exit and followed the brightly lit pathway to the restrooms. The line of women waiting went halfway back to the hall. She walked to the end of the line, pushed inside the bathroom, and called out Emily’s name. No one answered. Noticing Susie Hartwig on her way out of the building, she caught up and walked beside her. “You haven’t seen Shane Wolfe’s daughter, Emily, have you?”

  “Yeah, she was waiting some ways back with Julia. I guess they went to the restrooms over by the main arena. They’re under the stands and I heard a few women saying they were heading over there. We all warned them not to go because the lighting isn’t good but they wouldn’t listen and went off in a group. They thought if they stuck together they’d be okay.”

  Worried the two girls might be wandering through the fairgrounds alone, she needed to cover all bases. “Are there any other restrooms close by they might use?”

  “Oh yeah, there is another one down by the promenade. Do you know where the souvenir and food stalls are set up during the day?”

  Jenna nodded. “Yeah, I know the place. Thanks.”

  She hit her mic button and contacted Wolfe. “She is not at the restrooms outside the hall but people have seen her and Julia. I’m heading to the main arena restrooms now. If she is not there, I will look at the ones by the promenade. Go and check the food and soda lines in case she has returned.”

  “Roger that. Wolfe out.”

  She hit her mic again. “This is Sheriff Alton, is anyone in the vicinity of the main arena or the promenade?”

  One of the Blackwater deputies responded, “Yes, ma’am. I’m at the far end of the promenade near the entrance.”

  “Keep your eye out for Deputy Wolfe’s daughter and her friend. Call me if you see them.”

  “Yes, ma’am”

  Breaking into a jog, she headed toward the main arena. People clumped in small groups, chatting or wandering around, likely cooling off after dancing, but at the main arena, the place looked deserted. The lights were out but the summer sun still offered a bright twilight. A rush of fear hit her in the pit of the stomach the moment she entered the dark walkway under the grandstand. Would two girls be stupid enough to go here alone, especially as Emily knew the current danger? Gathering her wits, she listened intently in the hope of hearing voices over the thumping music belting from the dance hall. Going into a dark corridor with a serial killer on the loose was unnerving, hand-to-hand combat training notwithstanding. Taking out her cellphone, she accessed the flashlight and moved swiftly along the dark corridor toward the sign above the ladies’ restroom. The moment she arrived, the muffled voices coming from inside calmed her nerves. She pushed open the door to find a small line of women waiting to use the facilities. “Emily Wolfe, are you in here?”

  When no reply came, she looked at the line of women. “Has anyone seen a girl with long blonde hair recently?”

  The women wore terrified expressions and shook their heads in the negative. “Keep together, don’t leave anyone behind when you return to the hall.”

  She turned and ran out the door and back t
o the main arena. She hit her mic. “Wolfe, no luck at the main arena, heading toward the promenade now. All deputies with the exception of Rowley be on the lookout for Emily Wolfe. Alton out.”

  Fear cramped her gut but she took off at a run toward the promenade area. Dancing advertising signs illuminated the entrance to the fairgrounds and banners with various events flapped in the breeze. She noticed a fall of blonde hair and jogged toward a group of teenagers chatting by a refreshment stand, her gaze doing a visual scan of everyone in the area. The blonde-haired girl in the group turned around and gave her a wide-eyed stare. She smiled then bit back despair at not finding the girls and changed course.

  After contacting Rowley to make sure he had eyes on Provine, she headed back to the hall. Emily was mature and levelheaded. Causing her father so much worry seemed out of character. When she placed herself in danger at the computer shop, she made sure her father had her back. She must be okay or she would have activated her tracker.

  As she reached the hall, Kane, Wolfe, and Rowley walked outside. “What’s happening? Who is watching Provine?”

  “Walters is chatting with him now.” Kane’s gaze moved over her face and he handed her a bottle of water. “We’ve done a recon of the hall and Emily isn’t there.”

  Jenna drank greedily from the bottle. “I want everyone else searching for her. Break the fairgrounds into sections and get the deputies to check in once they’re cleared.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Kane’s gaze moved over the fairgrounds. “Where do we start?”

  Panic welled in her belly. Everything was moving too slow. She couldn’t just stand there, she had to do something. “Get them organized, Kane. I’m not waiting. I’m heading to the backlot—that’s where I’d go if I wanted to murder someone.”

  When Kane started issuing orders into his mic, she looked at Wolfe’s drawn face and started to jog toward the back of the fairgrounds with the deputies on her heels. “She hasn’t activated her tracker yet?”

  “Nope.” Wolfe’s pale gaze moved across the mass of buildings spread out in all directions. “I hope she is just cooling off somewhere and chatting with friends. She’s met quite a few since we moved here.” His cellphone let out a piercing ringtone. “That’s her tracker brooch signal. We’ll be able to hear her but it’s not a two-way. I’ll put my phone on speaker, move away from the noise.”

  “Daddy? I know the name of the killer.”

  Fifty-Two

  Emily Wolfe wished she had alerted her dad earlier. After what had happened to Aimee, she had promised to tell her father when someone was in danger. In fact, she should have told him the moment she walked out of the restroom and discovered Julia had taken off to follow a stupid character. She had seen players nearly run over trying to catch a character. They seemed to fixate on the game and forget their surroundings. Her father’s stern warning not to trust a soul had filled her mind, but in fear of her friend’s safety, she bolted in the direction Julia had headed. She doubted a killer would try to kill two girls walking together. She had seen Julia in the distance, her head illuminated by the screen of her cellphone.

  After leaving the lighted areas far behind and moving into the backlot, she feared for her safety and was about to call out to her friend to stop when a man stepped out of a dark building as if he had been waiting for her to arrive. It seemed creepy strange as if he just happened to be in the deserted area of the fairgrounds. A tingle of fearful anticipation ran down her spine and she melted into the shadows, but the sight of Julia speaking with someone she knew convinced her something was terribly wrong. Dad thinks the killer knows the victims. When the man bent to look at the cellphone, she recognized him. He’d been right in front of them all along, yet nobody had suspected him.

  From the body language, he had offered to escort her to find the character, and they headed toward a long, dark building. She had seen Julia’s grateful smile and immediately hit her tracker button. Her short message to her father lacked the vital information he required, and he would be fuming not knowing her exact location. As she pressed her back against the cool brick wall of the stables and turkey-peeked around the corner, terror like nothing she had experienced before gripped her.

  In the dimly lit interior, Julia strolled beside him, her head focused on the cellphone in her hand, chatting like there was no tomorrow. Her friend had failed to notice the man beside her was swinging a black sock filled with something heavy. She had no doubt that in the next few moments she would witness Julia’s murder.

  She wanted to scream out a warning and rush to her friend’s aid, but even the defense moves her father had taught her would not stop a psychopathic lunatic. Legs heavy, she moved back a few steps, hoping the slight crunch of the gravel under her boots would not give her away. Sweat trickled down her back and she swallowed hard, wishing the shadows would conceal her. She had to get help but the moment she opened her mouth, the killer would hear her.

  Heart pounding, she lifted her shirt to bring the glittery guitar brooch containing one of the trackers to her mouth and kept her voice to a whisper. “Dad, I’m at the other end of the fairgrounds, the last stable block, on the right. Come quickly. It’s Reverend Jones. He’s going to kill Julia.”

  Palms sweaty and heart thumping against her ribs, she crept forward. Hearing a thump then the sound of something hitting the ground, she trembled uncontrollably. She had to know what was happening to her friend and took a quick peek around the corner then froze. Julia lay sprawled on the ground, her arms and legs twitching, but Reverend Jones was nowhere in sight.

  The need to run bunched her muscles and she darted out of her hiding place. As the crunch of footsteps came close behind her, she opened her mouth to scream but the sound came out in a whimper. Gasping for air, she chanced a look over one shoulder. He was less than five feet from her and gaining fast.

  The leather soles of her new cowboy boots slipped on the gravel but she had a head start and could run fast. She headed for the blacktop in the middle of the grounds and took off at full speed. Behind her, his footsteps pounded on the road and she could hear his heavy breathing getting closer. I have to escape.

  She lifted her knees and sprinted toward the lights. Her dad would be coming and she just had to reach him. If she could make it around the last building, she would be in the open and he would see her. The heavy footsteps thundered behind her. A strong hand grasped her hair and pain shot up her neck as Jones wrenched her to a halt. She twisted and stared into the face of evil.

  Clawing at his face and eyes, and trying to knee him, Emily fought using every move her father had taught her. “Daddy, help me.”

  Gasping, she lifted her knee sharply and hit pay dirt. Jones made a long moaning sound and let go of her hair but seemed to recover in a split second. Pain shot through her face from his punch and she staggered then broke away and ran. Her vision blurred, tears streamed down her face but she made it around the last building and could see people heading toward her. “Daddeeeeeee.”

  “He can’t help you now.” The reverend’s voice had changed to a sinister growl.

  The sharp tug on her scalp pulled her to a standstill once more and she fell to the ground with the weight of him on top of her. Winded, she gasped in a painful breath. The stink of him filled her nostrils and his sweat dripped onto her face. She had clawed his cheeks and blood oozed from the corner of one eye.

  She caught the glint of a knife and screamed, “Daddy, help me!”

  “I’m so going to enjoy killing you.” Jones’s blood-streaked lips curled into a smile.

  The promenade lights blinked in the sharp blade as it rose high in the air. Unable to fend him off, she waited to die. The next moment, Sheriff Alton crashed into them and locked both hands around the reverend’s wrist. Her head came down on his nose in a sickening crunch and one foot locked around his waist.

  “Drop the knife, you’re surrounded.” The sheriff rolled to one side and slammed his hand into the ground. “Drop the damn knife.”

/>   “Bitch.” Jones swung a fist at her face. “I’ll cut you so bad your mother won’t recognize you.”

  The sheriff ducked the punch then rolled the reverend away from her. Terrified, Emily dragged her leaden body away. The reverend reared up but the sheriff had his arm in a death grip, her legs locked around his waist, and she was squeezing so tight Jones’s face was turning blue. Footsteps came running and in the blink of an eye, Deputy Kane had ripped the knife from the reverend’s fingers. The deputy had Jones by the throat, lifting him high in the air.

  “Put me down.” Reverend Jones’s eyes bulged as he fought to breathe through his bloody nose. He moved his gaze to Sheriff Alton. “I had a special time planned for you. No game, no rules, just you and me and a knife.”

  “Shut your mouth.” Deputy Kane’s eyes flashed with anger. “One more word and I’ll tear your head off.”

  “Stand down, Kane.” Sheriff Alton’s worried face came into view. “I want this animal alive, but get him away from Emily.”

  “Great tackle, by the way.” Kane’s lips twitched as he shoved Jones toward the gathering deputies.

  “Oh Jesus.” Her dad, white-faced and angry as hell, kneeled beside her and gathered her into his arms. “You are so grounded for life.” He checked her injuries, muttering curses under his breath.

  Head spinning, she sat up slowly. “Julia is in the stable. The last one, way back there. He hit her over the head.” She pointed in the direction. “She was moving, so she might be okay.”

  “I’m on it.” Sheriff Alton turned her concerned gaze toward Deputy Kane. “With me. Rowley, take care of the prisoner and call the paramedics.”

  Emily looked up at her father. “I remembered everything you taught me. Look at the damage I did to him, and if he’d killed me, I would have his DNA under my fingernails.”