Page 35 of Good Girls Don't Cry

“Protect themselves from me?” Holloway’s smile was more of a grimace. “I spent four years in jail for something I didn’t do. Why is it they raise us to respect women, when they’re the first people to put in the boot when you’re down?”

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Raven tried to get a take on this guy. One thing was for sure—he hated women. “I don’t believe that’s true, but we’re not here to discuss your case with you. Just for the record, could you tell us when you started working here?”

“Yeah, three weeks ago.” Holloway crossed his arms across his chest, displaying strong forearms. “It was the only work I could get. I wanted a forestry job. I’m qualified. I used my time in jail to make myself a better man. Seems that killing cows isn’t everyone’s choice of a career, but I hunt, so blood and guts don’t worry me.”

“Thanks, can you give me a rundown of where you were between Friday last and today?” Rio stood feet apart and back straight. “We need a timeline of your activity for our log.”

“You must be joking?” Holloway looked from one to the other and snorted in derision. “I don’t have to tell you jack shit. You’ve informed me of my negligence, and I’ll remedy it right now. My name is Ben Holloway and I’m a sex offender. Please make sure I’m on your sex offender registry.” He glared at Rio. “Got that?” He indicated to Raven. “He is my witness. Need me to sign anything?”

“Nope.” Rio folded his notebook and put it slowly back inside his pocket. “FYI, Black Rock Falls has CCTV cameras all over. If we run a facial recognition program and we discover you’ve been involved in any criminal activity, we’ll be back.” He poked a finger into the lunch table. “This is my jurisdiction. Just remember that.” He pushed past Holloway and headed for the front door.

Raven stared after him and then looked at Holloway. He didn’t like the guy and his aggression was a problem. He obviously had no fear of law enforcement and most people were a little intimidated during questioning. This guy was very confident. “Thank you for your time. Don’t worry about any repercussions from your boss. We told the woman at the counter we had recovered stolen property belonging to you. Have a nice day.” He left Holloway staring after him.

Outside in the parking lot, he found Rio leaning against the hood of his truck. “Was that good cop, bad cop? I’ve never done that before. Maybe a heads-up next time?”

“Nope. He’s hiding something.” Rio waved a hand toward town. “We’re going back to report nothing. It makes us look incompetent.”

Frowning, Raven turned to him. “I don’t agree. That guy is volatile, hates being locked up at work. He’s on the edge of needing to get away and could easily be the killer. He has no respect for cops and he’s a smart-ass. Give that information to Jenna. She’ll find good use for it.”

“Well.” Rio stared at him. “Kane said you were good. Maybe I’ve underestimated you.”

Raven chuckled and pulled open the door to the truck. “It’s called life experience. If you’d served in the military, you’d understand.”

“One thing is for darn sure, that’s never gonna happen.” Rio started the engine. “Let’s get out of this place. It gives me the creeps.” He pointed to a bone-crushing machine. “See that thing there. They use it to crush all the leftover bones and other stuff to make into fertilizer or dog food. Some crazy psychopath tried to stuff Rowley into it.” He shuddered. “That week I gave up tending my garden.”

Raven tried not to laugh. “That’s nasty but it’s a shame about your garden. Not that I have one. Mine is the forest, wild and untamed.”

“Oh, now don’t start me on the forest.” Rio gave him a sideways glance. “I’m a towny, born and bred. I like places where you can see what’s coming for you and there’s not something big enough to eat you around every tree.” He turned out onto the highway. “Let’s change the subject. Do you like football…?”

Thirty-Nine

The Mine

Chloe backed away as the man stepped inside her cell. His early morning visit had been degrading and she’d hoped his time with her was over. When he returned, Olivia had told her it was five after six at night. She’d watched with morbid curiosity when he led Olivia out of her cell and allowed her to take a long hot shower. He’d insisted she wash her hair and had given her fresh clothes to wear before moving her into another cell that was set apart from the others. As far as she knew, he hadn’t touched her—yet. A shiver went down her spine knowing what this man was capable of. Knowing that Olivia would not cry out, just like Isabella, frightened her even more. After seeing the bruises on Isabella’s battered body, she’d come to the conclusion that keeping quiet during the abuse made it worse. The moment he’d walked into her cell she’d started screaming. He’d smiled at her and when he left an hour later, he’d told her she was perfect. Perfect for what?

Trembling all over when the door opened slowly, Chloe stood just looking at him. He said nothing but tossed her a pile of clothes. She pulled on a skirt and top that resembled something her grandma would wear and slipped on shoes a size too small. Her skin crawled as he watched her dress, but she pushed it aside and just looked at him. Her heart pounded when he twirled his fingers to make her turn around.

“Hands behind you.” He attached zip ties to her wrists and pulled them so tight they cut deep into her flesh.

Dizzy with fear as he spun her around to face the door, she stood to attention awaiting his next command. She gasped as the cold metal muzzle of a gun pressed into the back of her neck.

“Be a good girl.” His moist breath washed over her ear, smelling of onions. “It’s your turn to leave. I’m taking you to a friend’s place. You can take a nice hot shower and wait there. Once I’ve left, you can call your parents to come get you.”

Could it possibly be true? Was he letting her go at last? She stumbled forward into the darkness of the tunnels, the only light coming from the bouncing flashlight he held in his hands. As they went through the final gate and he locked it behind him, Chloe took in deep breaths of fresh air. She stared into a sky filled with stars, but the moon was only a small sliver in the dark sky.

The entrance to the mineshaft had changed since the last time she was here. A large camouflage tarpaulin held up by a frame concealed the white van parked beneath. She didn’t have a chance to see a license plate as he slid open the side door and pushed her roughly inside. The door slammed shut behind her. Nothing had changed and it was still as dirty as before. Dust covered the bubbling tint on the windows and the takeout wrappers still littered the floor. The van had sped off before she had the chance to sit down, and without the use of her hands each time he turned a corner, she rolled around the floor trying to get her balance. Finally, as they hit a straightaway along a highway, she managed to crawl on her knees to the back of the van and place her back against the wall.

Chloe made out headlights along the highway but couldn’t recognize any landmarks. She couldn’t make out any streetlights, and at this time of night Main would be busy. Aunt Betty’s Café, the restaurants, and pizzeria would be open and brightly lit. The van turned right, leaving the highway, and headed along a bumpy dirt road or perhaps a driveway. She peered out of the window at a ranch house with light streaming from the front window. It lit a large sign of a Realtor’s smiling face, with the name Barb Furlich and proclaiming the house was for sale. Chloe swallowed hard. Who would she be meeting inside the house? The man drove around back and climbed out, but he didn’t go to the back door. He went to a set of sliding glass doors on the back porch. After a few minutes, he slid open the doors and pushed back the drapes.

Very afraid and shivering although it wasn’t cold, Chloe waited for him to open the van. She tried to avoid eye contact as she scrambled out. The gun was there again, this time pressing hard into her ribs. She staggered up the steps to the porch and went inside the house. He urged her through the kitchen and to the stairs. He said nothing as he guided her to the top and into the master bedroom with a bathroom attached. The room was spotlessly clean, the huge bed had military-style tight corners but the floor was covered with plastic sheeting. Terrified, she turned to look at him over one shoulder. “What do you want me to do?”

“Undress on the sheet. Fold up your clothes and put them inside my backpack.” He dropped his pack on the floor and pulled a knife. He smiled when she flinched as he sliced through the zip ties and then gave her a push. “Then wait for me in the bathroom.”

Unease slid over her as she reluctantly removed her clothes. It was too late to run and, from the remote location of the house, no one would hear her if she screamed. Past being embarrassed, she pushed her clothes into the backpack. The plastic crackled underfoot as she walked to the bathroom. It was modern, recently renovated, and spotlessly clean with the faint aroma of cleaning products. A large mirror hung over the two-sink vanity. The clawfoot bath was deep and the shower large enough for two. She folded her arms across her chest and stared at the door. If he meant what he’d said, she’d take a shower and then he’d leave. Goosebumps ran over her cooling flesh when he appeared in the doorway naked. Frightened, she backed away. Why had he allowed her to see his face?

Panic had her by the throat and she couldn’t think straight when he handed her a lipstick. She just stared at it in her hand not knowing what to do.

“I want you to write a message on the mirror.” He waved his gun at her. “Write: This one is mine.”

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