Page 111 of The Whispering Girls
“You know this is a hunting area by permission, right?” said Devin.
“Sure,” she said. “I guess.” Katie remembered the shots when they were at Devin’s cabin.
“I have video. All kinds and people you wouldn’t think, well, you know.”
“Is there a cabin or any other structures like that here?” she said.
“There’s more than that. Underground areas and an old graveyard. It’s cool. C’mon.”
Katie estimated the daylight remaining and when they could expect backup. She thought about Cisco. He would be within distance if they needed him. She didn’t believe Devin had anything to do with the murders, but there was still something they were missing. That bothered Katie, when she almost knew, but couldn’t quite find it.
Katie knew they would learn more about the property and that’s exactly what they needed if they were going to find John. Otherwise they could be looking for hours or even days.
“Hurry,” said Devin. There was a type of childlike joy in his voice.
Katie wondered if he knew more about the Echo Forest since his parent had always lived here. If he knew more than what he was telling them.
The detectives followed him across a field.
FORTY-EIGHT
Sunday 1600 hours
John dreamed that he was blind and deaf. It seemed more of a reality than a nightmare. His body suddenly jerked unconsciously, waking him. It was a strange feeling as he concentrated on staying awake.
He was lying on his back instead of leaning against the well wall. It was as if someone had spoken to him, but he realized that wasn’t possible. John wondered if the coffee had had something else in it. He wondered if he was really down a well shaft or if he was hallucinating. The more he thought about it, the more his thoughts tangled.
“Stop it!” he yelled. No one would hear him, but it felt good to release some of the anger he was feeling. It felt like he had been down the well for days or even weeks. The solitary confinement was excruciating.
John forced himself to sit up and then he stood up tall. It was challenging due to the weakness of his limbs, but he had to do something.
He had been reliving everything and allowing his thoughtsto take over; instead, he should have been hyper-focused on getting out of his predicament. That’s what the military taught him. Now he was just getting lazy.
John hadn’t realized that water was now falling steadily from the wall. It looked clean and natural. He cupped his hands and began to drink. It was the most amazingly satisfying drink he had ever encountered. There wasn’t much water in his hands, but he kept drinking for several minutes and then splashed his face. He could feel the chill from above and the water below was freezing, but it made him feel alive.
There was a strange sound. At first, he thought he had imagined it. No, he was sure. It sounded like heavy steps moving quickly. And then he heard voices in low tones. He thought about it and then listened hard. There were voices from above.
“Help! Down here!”
“Help!”
John realized that the voices he thought he heard were only his imagination.
The daylight was fading—soon it would be dark.
FORTY-NINE
Sunday 1630 hours
Katie and McGaven followed Devin to his cabin and the big barn where he had organized his tools to almost perfection. The young man ran into the cabin. His energy level was not winding down anytime soon. His enthusiasm was almost childlike.
“Do you think he’s…” said McGaven breathing hard.
“No, he’s not the killer. Eccentric. Maybe a little bit hyperactive. And even obsessive-compulsive, sure.”
“Okay, I get your point,” he said.
“Let’s see what and who he has on video.”
