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  Catch the Girl

  A Mercy Harbor Thriller: Book Three

  Melinda Woodhall

  Catch the Girl Copyright © 2019 by Melinda Woodhall. All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Cover designed by Michael Rehder

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Melinda Woodhall

  Visit my website at www.melindawoodhall.com

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing: July 2019

  Creative Magnolia

  For Michael

  Chapter One

  The high-pitched creak of rusty metal pierced the stillness ahead, sending a shiver of alarm down Ruth Culvert’s back. She crouched at the edge of the forest, her eyes darting around the empty parking lot before settling on a battered sign swaying in the cold breeze. Pale moonlight lit up the faded outline of a coiled snake.

  “It’s the old Cottonmouth filling station,” Ruth hissed into the darkness behind her. “We must’ve veered off track.”

  Her heart sank as she noted the shuttered windows and the boards nailed over the door. There was no one to help them, no one to offer them a ride. She reached back to take Candace’s hand, half expecting her friend to have disappeared. But cold, trembling fingers clutched at her, pulling on her sleeve, stretching the thin homemade material of her dress.

  “I don’t feel very good,” Candace whimpered.

  She moved closer to Ruth, seeking warmth in the frigid air, unused to the icy wind that was so rarely felt in Florida. The first few weeks of December had proven unusually cold, and Ruth suspected that the falling temperature may drop below freezing before the sun came up.

  “We need to get to the main highway,” she said, not sure why she was still whispering.

  No one had followed them as they’d left the compound. No one had accosted them as they’d made their way through the boggy forest and along Little Gator Creek. No one seemed to be chasing after them.

  As far as Ruth could tell, she and Candace were alone in the night, and free to talk as loudly as they wanted. Maybe they would be allowed to leave after all. A soft rustle in the thick cluster of trees behind her started her pulse racing again.

  On second thought, probably best not disturb the snakes and gators.

  Ruth looked toward the narrow road that wound past the parking lot, hoping to see a passing car or approaching headlights.

  Someone’s got to come along eventually, right?

  Ruth rubbed her arms, wishing she’d worn something warmer than the thin sweater she’d knitted herself the previous winter. The air cut right through it, and she shivered at the thought of the long night ahead. They would need to find shelter before it got too cold.

  She reached in her pocket and felt around until her fingers closed on a thin piece of paper. She hadn’t lost the address. She knew where they were going; now she just needed to find a ride, or maybe a telephone to use. Her eyes flicked to the building.

  Don’t places like this usually have a pay phone?

  She tried to remember driving by the old gas station before. Had there been a pay phone hanging on the wall outside the restrooms? She thought so. But would it still be there after all this time?

  “Wait here, Candy. I’m gonna see if they have a phone.”

  When Candace didn’t reply, Ruth hesitated. She turned to stare into the girl’s frightened blue eyes. Beautiful, vivacious Candace had always seemed fearless to her before, but now she stood frozen in terror. Ruth felt a surge of fury.

  “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll get you out of here, and he’ll never be able to lay a hand on you again. You hear me?”

  Candace nodded, wiping at her nose with a small, trembling hand. She tried to say something, and Ruth noticed that her teeth were chattering, and her lips had taken on a bluish tint.

  “I’m sorry, Ruthie. I’m real sorry I got you mixed up in all this.”

  Candace’s words stoked Ruth’s fury even higher.

  “Don’t you apologize, Candy. Once you’re all safe and sound I’m going back there and giving that man a piece of my mind. He can’t treat people like this.”

  Giving Candace’s hand a firm squeeze, Ruth stepped out of the muddy forest onto the cracked asphalt of the parking lot. Gravel and rocks crunched under Ruth’s rubber-soled shoes as she made her way toward the convenience store.

  The old building seemed to sag under the weight of the cold night air, its roof littered with branches and debris that had blown in from the surrounding wetlands.

  When Ruth reached the island of concrete and metal that had once held a trio of gas pumps, something hard and scaly moved against her bare legs. She held back a scream as an armadillo trundled past, heading toward the deserted road. She watched the gray form disappear into the night before she continued up to the building and around back toward the restrooms.

  A black metal payphone hung on the wall. It was positioned between the men’s and women’s restrooms, right where she remembered.

  Ruth hurried toward the phone and lifted the receiver with a heavy hand, already knowing what she would hear, but still devastated when she detected only dead air.

  She banged the handset back into the cradle and sighed, dropping her head into her hands.

  What now? Do we start walking, or do we hunker down for the night?

  A faint buzzing made her lift her head. She picked up the receiver, hoping the sound was coming from the phone. The phone was still dead. The buzzing grew louder; it seemed to be closing in.

  Is that a boat? Is someone on the water in the middle of the night?

  Most of the land and waterways in the area were part of the protected Cottonmouth Wetland Preserve, but local poachers found ways around the restrictions, and night hunting wasn’t uncommon. As the buzzing abruptly stopped, dread began to settle in Ruth’s stomach. She felt sure that someone was out there in the dark. She had to warn Candace.

  Spinning on her heels she ran back toward the forest, her heart pounding as a faint light appeared, bobbing up and down as it made its way through the thick branches of the palm and cypress trees that flourished in the soggy marsh. They were no longer alone.

  “Candy?”

  Ruth rushed toward the spot where she’d left Candace, her voice a hoarse whisper in the night. The trampled ground where they’d stood was now empty.

  She called out again and again, her voice low and frantic with fear, her mind swirling with regret. Why had she left Candace on her own in the woods? Why had she ever agreed to her plan in the first place?

  The snap of a stick directly behind her made Ruth jump and scream. She ran toward the cover of the trees without looking back, driven by blind instinct to get away from whatever or whoever was behind her.

  Dodging thick tree branches and jumping over roots and puddles, Ruth made her way further into the forest, stopping only when she felt her feet begin to sink deeper and deeper into the soft, wet ground beneath her.

  She’d reached the edge of the swamp that lay at the heart of the preserve. To go any farther she’d need a boat and a good deal of courage. Navigating the swamp at night wasn’t for the faint hearted; four-foot long cottonmouths and alligators twice that length glided through the dark water, their glowing eyes watching from the murky shadows.

  Although Ruth
had grown up in the area, she wasn’t foolish enough to think she knew how to navigate the swamp on her own. Standing still, Ruth closed her eyes and listened to the night.

  At first she heard only her own ragged breathing, but then, in the distance, she thought she heard voices.

  A woman was talking. Ruth strained to listen. The voice sounded familiar. Was that Candace, or someone else? Just then a terrible shriek filled the night, turning Ruth’s blood to ice.

  “No, please, no…”

  The pleading voice belonged to Candace. There was no doubt in Ruth’s mind as she stood transfixed, listening to the now-rustling bushes, cawing birds and the heavy, ominous splash of water nearby. The creatures of the night had heard the scream, too.

  “Sister Ruth? Where are you, girl?” The stern voice carried clearly in the frosty air. “You come on out now before you get hurt.”

  There was a cold edge to the voice that made Ruth instinctively crouch lower in an attempt to hide behind the long tufts of cordgrass that edged the water. Despite the urge to turn and run, she began to creep toward the voice on shaky legs.

  I have to check on Candy. I have to make sure she’s all right.

  Another voice muttered beyond the trees, but the words were too low for Ruth to hear. As she drew closer a whispered conversation ended in an angry rebuke.

  “You’ve caused enough harm,” the cold voice snapped in frustration. “Now, go get the boat ready while I finish this.”

  Heavy footsteps pounded into the underbrush; branches snapped and cracked as someone forced their way into the wall of trees and barreled past Ruth, who had ducked behind a thick sabal palm.

  She waited until the footsteps had died away before stepping forward and raising a hand to push a tattered frond out of the way. She peered into the inky darkness beyond, seeing the outline of someone kneeling on the ground. Ruth was only a few yards away, but the person’s back was to her, and she couldn’t see clearly from the cover of the trees.

  Forcing herself to step out into the open, she looked up into the sky, where a thin sliver of moon hung within a spray of pinpoint stars. Dawn was only an hour away. If she could find Candace they might still have a chance to make it to the highway by daylight. They could flag down a truck.

  She stepped toward the hooded figure and cleared her throat.

  “Wh…where’s Sister Candace? We’re leaving the congregation. You…you can’t stop us.”

  The figure stood and moved aside, revealing Candace’s crumpled body. A sticky mass of blonde hair surrounded the girl’s pale, lifeless face. As Ruth stared in horror, the figure raised a hand.

  Moonlight glinted off the metal blade of a knife. The hand swung down in a violent arc and the knife sunk into soft flesh with a sickening thud.

  “Now, see what you made me do,” the voice said with disdain. “If only you and Sister Candace had followed the rules, none of this would have had to happen.”

  Ruth opened her mouth to scream, but her throat was too dry. The only sound that escaped was a guttural sob. Before she knew what she was doing, she sprang forward, grabbing for the knife in mindless fury.

  She clawed at the hand holding the knife, trying to wrestle it free, her feet slipping in the long grass, now wet with the first official frost of the year. Ruth braced herself as she fell backward, but before she could hit the ground, a strong arm wrapped around her throat and pulled her back against a rock-hard chest.

  “I’ve got you, Sister Ruth…I’ve got you now.”

  A bird cawed overhead, and a deep growl sounded from the shadows of the forest. The wetlands were alive with creatures just as dangerous as the one holding Ruth by the neck; they would smell the fresh blood pooling on the sodden ground.

  “We can’t stay out here. It’ll be daylight soon.”

  The man’s words were thick and slurred. Ruth recognized his voice; her eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

  “Take her into the station,” the cold voice commanded. “Hurry.”

  The arm tightened around Ruth’s neck as the man began to drag her roughly toward the dilapidated building. She clawed at his hands as her head began to spin. She couldn’t breathe and she couldn’t loosen his grip.

  This is it. Candy is dead, and now I’m gonna die, too.

  Ruth’s fading mind tried to make sense of what was happening. She couldn’t understand why they’d killed Candace. She didn’t know why they wanted her dead. She struggled to keep her eyes open, looking back at Candace’s prone body, fearing she would never see her friend again.

  The man’s arm suddenly fell away, and Ruth collapsed in a heap on the cracked floor of the grimy restroom. She gasped for air, looking around the tiny room in confusion. Only a few rusty pipes and the cracked boards of the old stall remained.

  “You shoulda’ kept your nose outta this, Ruth.”

  His grim words reached her through a fog of fear. Was she going to die in the filthy room? Would her body ever be found?

  “Tie her up and leave her to me.”

  A shadow had appeared at the door, blocking the last streaks of moonlight. Ruth saw the man’s hands clench above her.

  “But…what are you gonna-”

  “Don’t worry about that. You just get the boat ready.”

  The man pulled out a big folding knife and opened the blade. Ruth braced herself for a blow, but he only pulled off her sweater and used the knife to cut it into strips. He tied a strip around her wrists and another around her ankles. He tightened both the knots, then hesitated, looking down at her with wide, glassy eyes. She thought he was going to say something, but then he turned and disappeared through the door.

  A soft rattling in the shadows made Ruth snap her head around. A thick snake was coiled in the corner, its head raised, its eyes trained on Ruth. Through the shadows she made out the pattern on its back; black diamonds decorated the scaly skin. Ruth stifled a scream, slowly raised her bound wrists to her mouth, and began to tear at the strip of material with her teeth.

  Just as her hands broke free, another warning rattle sounded from the corner. The big triangular head rose higher, revealing a thick bulge just below the snake’s mouth: his midnight snack. Ruth inched toward the door, untying the material around her ankles as she slid across the grimy floor. She peered around the door frame and saw that Candace still lay on the ground. No one else was in sight.

  Maybe she’s still alive. Maybe it’s not too late.

  Ruth stood on trembling legs, took a deep breath, then darted across the uneven ground to kneel beside Candace. She gently shook one shoulder and bent to look into her friend’s face. Large, bloody letters had been carved into the smooth, pale flesh of her forehead. Ruth read the word in shocked silence.

  JEZEBEL

  Her mind buckled, refusing to accept the horror of what she was seeing. Voices sounded behind her and she jumped to her feet and ran across the parking lot and into the thick forest of trees on the other side of the lot. She scrambled through the scrub and foliage, ducking under branches and jumping over the roots of trees as she ran.

  The sun had appeared over the east end of the forest by the time Ruth stopped and leaned against a tree to catch her breath. A sudden noise behind her caused her to jump. She turned to run again, not seeing the jutting root of the massive cypress tree until she was tumbling forward. Her head slammed against the massive tree trunk, and the world went dark.

  Chapter Two

  Eden Winthrop crossed to the coat rack and took down the thick white sweater she rarely got an opportunity to wear. The sudden cold snap was a pleasant surprise in the lead up to Christmas, even if the chilly air in Mercy Harbor’s administration office was better suited for the heat of a summer day. Eden slipped her arms into warm sleeves and wrapped the soft cotton sweater around her with a happy sigh.

  It’s finally beginning to feel like Christmas.

  Moving back toward her desk, Eden paused to consider the crystal blue sky outside her window and the sunlight sparkling down on the
Willow River below. It was a picture-perfect day in Willow Bay, and for the first time in months she felt relaxed and almost optimistic.

  “What can go wrong on a day like this, Duke?”

  The golden retriever was curled up on the long sofa nestled under the window. He gave Eden a sleepy blink, then closed his eyes. Apparently the cold weather during their early-morning walk had gotten him in the mood for a mid-morning nap.

  Eden was pleased to see Duke so content. He seemed to have fully recuperated from his recent injuries, both mentally and physically. She wondered if she too could be considered fully healed after her own awful ordeal.

  Pushing back the disturbing images of the night she’d survived both a category four hurricane and a prolific serial killer, she told herself yet again that it was best not to dwell on her narrow escape. Better to be grateful both she and Duke had made it through alive. Better to just get on with things. After all, she had Hope and Devon to keep her busy, as well as a new relationship that needed her attention.

  Eden let her eyes linger on the framed photo she’d recently added to the collection on her credenza. Leo Steele’s handsome face stared back at her, his dark eyes and strong jaw softened by a teasing smile. Her pulse quickened as she recalled their cozy dinner at his place the weekend before.

  Yes, things are definitely starting to look up around here.

  Eden was still gazing at Leo’s picture when the phone on her desk lit up, dragging her out of her daydream. She pressed the intercom button.

  “This is Eden Winthrop.”

  “Ms. Winthrop, this is Edgar down in security.”

  Edgar coughed, then cleared his throat.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, but I’ve got someone here who’s…well, she’s asking to see you.”

  Eden stared at the phone, noting that Edgar’s usual bantering tone had been replaced with a nervous hesitation.

  “Does this person have a name…or an appointment?”