Page 37 of Unhallowed Murder
“She’s buried under the patio at 5327 Stuart Street, in Ringgold. I buried her that night, and went and bought the paver stones, gravel, sand, and concrete the next morning. She’s under the back patio. She was my first. A whore. Whores don’t deserve to live.”
Georgia. Josef had been right. Graham was getting him. She’d already known he would, but this cemented it. Didn’t matter anymore — she needed to get as much of his confession as she could.
Chapter Twenty
Josef listened to Griffin’s confession through Corey’s mind, since he was managing what they called the viewing room, and was the person speaking into Lieutenant Woods’ earpiece.
She must’ve started shortly before he awakened, and he’d moved things along a few times — made Griffin see blood on his hands once, and gave him brief flashes of his nightmares a couple of times.
Ronnie had food brought in at seven that evening, and she finally left the tiny little room a little after ten. When they were finished, she had a spoken confession of all seventeen murders, and then the bastard had signed seventeen sheets of paper, admitting to the murder of each woman.
Josef waited until she left the room to telepath her.
Can you hear me.
Yes.
Let me come pick you up? You need sleep.
Give me a few minutes and I’ll call you on my phone.
He stayed in Corey’s head, saw her step into the viewing room, saw her team give her high fives. Perry, their resident seasoned detective, looked at her appraisingly, as if making sure she was okay. For that matter, they all did, each in their own way — the ex-marine, the psych major, even the geek. Her team was concerned.
It isn’t often one encounters evil, and she’d needed to be friendly and nice to the murdering son of a bitch to get the entire confession. It was no wonder so many detectives drank. You can’t just shake that kind of thing off.
“I’m fine,” she told her men. “I need to get my phone from my office and make a personal call. Graham’s going to get this one, too, but I’m okay with that. Micah Griffin will die in jail.”
“This is why you get the big bucks,” Henderson joked. She rolled her eyes at him, but then Corey turned back to the computer and Josef could only hear them.
“The commander watched for nearly an hour,” Myers told her. “We had lots of other visitors, too. You sure you’re okay? I’m not sureIam, and I didn’t have to play nice with the motherfucker.”
“I need to bleach my brain, but yeah. I’ll be okay. I’m headed to my office, if anyone needs me, catch me in the next ten minutes because I’m about to leave.”
“You want to go somewhere for drinks?” Myers asked.
“Not tonight.”
She walked out, and Josef stayed put in Corey’s head. He wanted to know what they said after she left.
“If it was anyone else, I don’t think I’d let them walk out of the building alone,” Sergeant Perry said.
“I still don’t really want her to,” said Myers, “but I doubt we can stop her.”
“I’d contact the Commander if I thought she wasn’t handling it,” Carter said, leaned against a wall. “She’s fine, but I have no idea how. I wasn’t in that room, and I’m with you — I’ll be okay, but I’m not right now. I’ll go down the street for that drink, if you want.”
“No one can be expected to be okay after hearing that,” said Perry. “We’ll process it and put it behind us, same as always. It’s what we do. I’ll have a drink with ya’ll, too.”
Josef’s phone rang, and he pulled out of Corey’s head.
“Bellula.”
“Do you want to come in and meet my team, or do you just want to pick me up in the parking lot?”
“They’re worried about you. I should come in and ease their minds.”
“Okay. I’ll tell the front desk to send you up.”
* * **
