All the Pretty Faces (24 page)

Dane let his tirade linger in the air, which intensified Easton’s agitation.

Easton gestured toward the pictures of Charity and Patty. “Now what the fuck is going on? What does Sherry’s death have to do with these recent murders?”

“You were seen with all the victims shortly before they died.” Dane laid a picture of Betsy on the table, his heart hammering as he waited for Easton’s reaction.

Easton slumped against the seat, perspiration dotting his forehead. “God, where did you get that?”

Dane planted his fists on the table to keep from jerking the man by the neck and choking him. Was Easton reacting out of guilt? “That girl was my sister, Betsy. She went missing from a frat party at UT where you were.” Dane swallowed hard. “The police found her body a few hours later. Did you kill her, Easton?”

“Shit.” Easton dropped his head into his hands. “I think I need a lawyer.”

Josie sensed Dane’s frustration. He was still agonizing over the loss of his sister. He also wanted a confession, but Easton hadn’t broken.

Dane folded his arms. “If you aren’t guilty, why do you need a lawyer?”

“Because you’re obviously trying to pin this on me,” Easton said.

Josie touched Easton’s hand in an effort to implore him to cooperate. “Please, Eddie, talk to us. Another girl is missing. If you didn’t hurt Charity or Patty, then help us stop this madman before he takes another life.”

“I don’t know how to help you,” Eddie said, his voice weak. “I would never butcher a woman like that.”

Dane tapped Betsy’s photograph again. “What do you remember about my sister? You met her at a frat party ten years ago.”

Eddie’s face contorted in anguish. “Listen, Agent Hamrick, I did meet her, but not at the party. I knew Betsy before that night.”

A muscle ticked in Dane’s jaw. “Go on.”

Eddie’s hand shook as he wiped his forehead. “We met at a nature preserve.”

“The same one where you met Silas Grimley?” Dane asked.

Eddie murmured yes. “Silas was fourteen, a mess, all fucked up by his old man, and your sister took him under her wing.”

Dane leaned across the table to intimidate the man. “That’s where you and Silas became friends?”

“Yeah. I was kind of a big brother to him, and Betsy was like a big sister.”

Grief lined Dane’s face. “Did Silas visit you at school?”

“Yeah, when I was at UT. A couple of times, I let him come up for the weekend to show him that he had a future.” His voice grew low. “I thought it would help him see he could make it to college if he worked hard and got his shit together.”

“Did Grimley meet your girlfriend Sherry?”

Eddie nodded, although his eyes became guarded, then suspicious. Josie was trying to get a read on him, but he gave off mixed messages.

“Was Silas visiting you the weekend your girlfriend died?” Dane continued.

Eddie’s hand shook as he finally picked up his coffee and took a sip. “Yes.”

Dane leaned another inch closer. “He was there the night Betsy was murdered?”

“Yes.” Easton made a strangled sound in his throat. “You think Silas killed Sherry and Betsy?”

Before Dane could answer, Josie’s cell phone buzzed.

She checked the text and went cold inside.

It was a picture of Neesie Netherington lying in a pool of blood, one hand holding a broken mirror, the other a Mitzi doll.

Bloody claw marks scarred her face.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Josie’s stomach roiled. “My God, Neesie is dead.”

The room fell into such a deafening silence that she could hear her own heart hammering in her chest.

Dane grabbed the phone and studied the picture. “Dammit, we’re too late again.”

Josie started trembling and couldn’t stop.

Dane shoved the picture in the man’s face. “Where did you leave this woman?”

Eddie jerked back at the sight of the picture. “Good God. That’s Neesie.”

“Hell yeah, it is,” Dane snapped. “Where is she?”

Eddie shook his head back and forth vehemently. “Listen to me, I told you I didn’t kill anyone.”

“What about your partner?” Dane snarled.

“Partner?” Eddie lurched to a standing position. “You’re fucking nuts.”

“Sit down!” Dane pounded the table. “Tell me how you and Grimley pulled it off. You lure the females in with the promise of a photo shoot, then refer them to him for cosmetic work. Then who kills them? Do you take turns? Does he do the carving or do you?”

Eddie’s breath rasped out. “For the last time, I’m not involved in any murders. If Grimley is, he’s done it on his own.” He fisted his hands by his sides. “In fact, if he killed Sherry, I’d like a shot at him myself.”

Josie remained quiet, studying Easton’s body language for signs of guilt.

Dane’s theory about the two men working together held merit, but Eddie seemed genuinely shocked that Dane suspected Grimley of killing his girlfriend.

“Was Grimley questioned in Sherry’s murder?” Dane asked.

Eddie shook his head. “He was just a kid. I thought, and the police thought, some guy she met at the frat party killed her. I saw her talking to some dopehead earlier, and I figured she’d gotten mixed up with the wrong guy.”

“You and Grimley have kept in touch, remained friends?” Dane asked.

“Yes. Some plastic surgeon corrected his scars and mentored him, so Silas wanted to do that for others.”

“Did you think Grimley was dangerous?” Josie asked.

“Was—you mean
is
he dangerous?” Eddie heaved a breath. “I don’t know. He had some issues when I first met him.”

“What kind of
issues
?” Dane asked.

Eddie rubbed his temple. “He was a loner, troubled. Sometimes he latched onto people.”

“Like who?”

“Like me and Sherry. For a while he wanted to do everything with us. Then Sherry got tired of it. She said he creeped her out.”

“You told Grimley this?”

“Yes.” Eddie’s expression slowly changed as he realized the implications. “Jesus, I told him that a couple of weeks before Sherry died.”

“Did he latch onto my sister?” Dane asked.

Eddie’s expression turned wary. “Yeah. Like I said, he was a screwed-up adolescent. He was in love with her.”

Josie imagined the scenario—a troubled young kid, needy, craving love. A teenage girl trying to help him. He mistook her kindness and compassion for more. “Did Betsy know how he felt?”

Eddie shrugged. “She realized he had a crush and said she’d let him down gently. That he seemed fragile to her.”

“Dammit, Easton.” Dane shook the man. “Didn’t it occur to you that he killed her because she rejected him?”

Anger pushed Dane as he called the sheriff. He should have done more to find Neesie Netherington. Should have worked harder, found this unsub before now.

They had to stop this son of a bitch before another woman died. “I want Silas Grimley found immediately and brought in for questioning. Get your deputies to look for the Netherington woman’s body. Josie just received another text. The young woman is dead.”

Dane ended the call, then turned back to Easton. “Where’s Grimley now?”

Easton threw up his hands. “I don’t know. Probably back at the convention in Knoxville.”

If Grimley was the unsub and killed Betsy and Sherry, those murders took place years ago. What had triggered him to start killing now? How did the doll get in Easton’s closet?

Had Grimley put it there?

“Did Grimley have a recent breakup?” Dane asked.

Easton shook his head. “Not that I know of. I don’t think he was even seeing anyone. He spent all his time working.”

“He probably thought he’d win these women’s affections and admiration with his work,” Dane suggested, “but they rejected him on a personal level, and he snapped.”

“Listen,” Eddie said. “I can’t believe he’d kill his patients and mess up their faces. He hated being scarred, and dedicated his life to making women more attractive. He’s got some kind of God complex. He honestly believes he’s their hero, that his work saves lives.”

Dane considered his argument. It made sense. But that lawsuit had challenged his position to play God.

He retrieved another page from the file Peyton had sent and showed it to Easton. One notation said she’d talked to the plastic surgeon who took care of Grimley, and he’d recommended a therapist, but he didn’t know if Grimley followed up.

“He was saving lives?” Dane said sardonically. “He was making them look like that Mitzi doll.”

Easton knotted his hands together but didn’t respond. Dane’s phone buzzed, and he checked the number. Sheriff Kimball.

He punched Connect. “Agent Hamrick.”

The sheriff released a weary sigh. “I know where Neesie Netherington’s body is.”

Dane’s gut clenched. “That was fast. Where did you find her?”

“That casting director just phoned, upset,” Sheriff Kimball said. “She found the woman lying in the bushes in front of the Falls Inn.”

Dane told him he’d be right there. Then he took Easton by the arm. “Come on, you’re going to stay here until I find Grimley and process this crime scene.”

“What the fuck?” Easton shouted. “You can’t lock me up.”

“I’m still not convinced you’re not working with Grimley. I can hold you for twenty-four hours for questioning,” Dane said. “I don’t intend to let you warn Grimley that we’re onto him.”

Easton cursed again, but Dane led him to a cell and locked him inside. Then he and Josie hurried to his car.

Josie couldn’t help but recall Doyle Yonkers’s accusations as she and Dane drove to the inn and parked.

Sheriff Kimball’s police car sat in front on the curb, and a crime van was already on the scene while another deputy monitored the spectators who’d gathered to watch the horrid events unfold.

Now three young women were dead, their dreams and futures cut off at too young of an age.

If she hadn’t written this book and sold the movie rights, and the film crew hadn’t come to this town, would these three women still be alive?

Was it her fault they were dead?

“Why don’t you wait in the car?” Dane asked, his voice gruff. Tender.

She shook her head. “I’ll do whatever I can to help stop this bastard. I don’t like the fact that he’s using the town and people here as his hunting ground.”

“Did you believe Easton?” Dane asked as they walked up to the inn.

“I don’t know,” Josie said. “After Billy Linder, I don’t trust my own judgment anymore.”

Dane paused and looked at her for a moment. The wind blew his hair back, ruffling the ends and making him look impossibly sexy in the waning light.

Sexy and dangerous to her heart.

She could fall in love with Dane so easily.

Hell, she was already in deep lust.

She ached to run her hands through his hair, to beg him to take her back to his cabin, light a fire, and make love to her long into the night. To make her forget that she might have brought more murders on a town that had already suffered enough.

Someone shrieked from near the front door, jerking her attention back to the scene.

Dane squeezed her arm. “Hang in there, Josie. We’ll find this lunatic and lock him away just like we did Billy Linder.”

Sorrow filled Josie. Even though they found the killer, a lot of people had suffered in the meantime. The victims’ families were still grieving, just as Dane had never stopped hurting over the loss of his little sister.

Bailey Snow and another young woman were huddled together, consoling each other, while a chuffy guy tried to snap a photo with his camera. Sheriff Kimball jerked his phone away.

“Take a picture and I’ll arrest you,” Kimball snarled. “Show some respect to this woman and her family. They haven’t even been notified.”

Josie’s pulse clamored. The crime scene crew had roped off the area while two deputies worked to contain the small crowd. Their questions couldn’t be silenced.

Neither could their whispers of shock.

“Was she killed by the same person who murdered Charity and Patty?” a woman shouted.

“You didn’t tell us those girls were left naked, that he butchered their faces,” another girl cried.

“What kind of sicko does this?”

“When are you going to catch this maniac?”

“We’re doing everything possible,” Sheriff Kimball said in an effort to calm the rising hysteria. “If you see or hear anything that might help us, please contact my office. If you knew this woman personally or saw her earlier today and can shed some light on her movements during the last twenty-four hours, that would be helpful.”

Dane spoke to Lieutenant Ward, but Josie waited outside the crime scene tape, respecting the fact that they didn’t want the scene contaminated.

Grimley’s past actions and the timing certainly pointed to him. There were also connections between Dane’s sister and Easton’s girlfriend that couldn’t be ignored. Easton also had that doll in his closet.

She studied the crowd. Something about the interviews didn’t mesh. If Easton or Grimley had contacted her, she’d expect at some point for them to give her a sign. Some kind of signal that they’d sent her the photographs. That they were interested in her focusing on them.

She hadn’t detected anything like that. Easton appeared to be cocky, sure of himself, but stunned that he was a suspect. Grimley vacillated between a show of confidence and vulnerability.

Had they somehow connected to merge their strengths and weaknesses and become the Butcher?

Or were she and Dane on the wrong trail?

Dane jammed his fists into his pockets, wishing he had hold of the son of a bitch who’d killed Neesie Netherington. The poor woman had been left in the bushes beside the inn, her limbs contorted at an odd angle just like the first two victims.

Naked and alone, left in the elements as if no one gave a damn about who she was. The shattered glass of the compact mirror glinted against the darkness. Blood had already congealed on her chest and dried on her cheek.

Remorse engulfed him. While they’d been running around chasing leads, she’d already been dead.

“COD appears to be the same as the others,” Dr. Wheeland said. “It also looks like he used the same type of instrument to carve the talon marks on her face.”

Easton’s comments about Silas Grimley echoed in Dane’s head. He’d been scarred from the attack. He had known Betsy and Easton’s girlfriend and had been at the college when both of them were there.

“Anything look different?” Dane asked.

“Nothing that’s evident. The stab wounds look similar, so does the carving. I don’t see bruising on her thighs or fluids, but I’ll run a rape kit anyway as I did with the others.”

Dane zeroed in on her wrists and ankles. “She was restrained.”