Ashes - Book 2 (New Adult Romantic Suspense) by Leslie Johnson Page A
Authors: Leslie Johnson
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further to the west. Good thing I have my flashlight. I remember a training we had where the instructor talked about evidence and how the killer always leaves a piece of themselves at the scene.
Looking at the ground, I notice there are no footprints except mine. Either the killer hasn’t been here in a while, or he swept the prints away when he left. I walk the ledge again, careful to only step on my previous tracks. I pass the cave and walk as far as my safety harness will allow.
No additional caves in this section. Thank the fuck.
Retracing my steps again, I pause outside the cave and steel my heart. My nerves are fine. It’s my soul that is taking a beating at the sight of these women so ‘honorably’ displayed.
Sick bastard.
I shine the light just inside the cave and again, no other footprints. This is definitely a very thoughtful killer.
I pull my shirt over my mouth and nose as I carefully step just inside the tomb. It doesn’t help much with the smell, but every little bit helps. At least I’m not tasting the sour air.
The bodies are about six feet from the opening, arranged in a horizontal line going back into the cave. They are all dressed the same … white eyelet dresses. No shoes. A ribbon in their hair. They look like little girls, but they aren’t.
The nearest one is identifiable, but the ones toward the back are much more decomposed. The furthest body is nearly a skeleton. I’m not surprised to see some of the women are missing limbs, but they are remarkably intact. Although this cave is a perfect hiding place, a starving animal — maybe even a vulture — would have found a way to secure a meal.
Pinpointing my light to pull my gaze away from the broader scene to look more closely at each detail, I scan down the body of the closest one and notice she’s holding something in her hands.
A flower.
Scanning across the other six, I see the same thing. The fucking bastard has crossed their hands over their abdomens and each have what appears to be the remnants of a rose in their hands.
White dress.
Pink rose.
The flashback nearly takes me to my knees and I mentally shake myself — I can think about that later. Right now, I have seven human beings I need to honor by keeping my shit together.
Flashing the light around the cave, it picks up something I hadn’t noticed before. I grit my teeth. Any trace of doubt is gone. This is a ritual killer. And this isn’t a grave; it’s a shrine.
In the very back of the cave are pictures in frames. Seven of them, each with a pile of small bones lying in front of it. They are too small to be human bones, but bones nonetheless. And, what is that? Feathers? Yes, feathers. I can’t tell if they were placed here or had fallen from birds coming in to feed on the corpses.
My vision blurs and I blink the salty tears back. I look at each woman again. I look at them with the honor they deserve.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper to each one in turn.
Then I back out of the cave, careful not to disturb the scene.
Chapter 2 — Beth
The pain in my side becomes a pounding ache as I run back up the trail, searching for a cell signal. Blisters have formed on my feet and sweat is pouring down my face, but I run as fast as the rock and gravel will allow.
Dead bodies?
Seven of them?
I can’t imagine what Gage is going through right now.
I make it to the spot where I’d spoken to 911 not long before, while we were trying to get help for Daniel. I’d snatched the phone away from his hysterical mother and instructed the rescue team of our location, credentials and how Gage was prepared to secure the boy, making their job a hundred times easier.
Speaking to 911 for the second time that day, I still can’t believe how we’ve morphed from a dream into a nightmare.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
The signal is weak, the dispatcher’s voice breaking in and out. I climb higher, asking the woman to hold while I find a place where it’s stronger.
Barely able
Looking at the ground, I notice there are no footprints except mine. Either the killer hasn’t been here in a while, or he swept the prints away when he left. I walk the ledge again, careful to only step on my previous tracks. I pass the cave and walk as far as my safety harness will allow.
No additional caves in this section. Thank the fuck.
Retracing my steps again, I pause outside the cave and steel my heart. My nerves are fine. It’s my soul that is taking a beating at the sight of these women so ‘honorably’ displayed.
Sick bastard.
I shine the light just inside the cave and again, no other footprints. This is definitely a very thoughtful killer.
I pull my shirt over my mouth and nose as I carefully step just inside the tomb. It doesn’t help much with the smell, but every little bit helps. At least I’m not tasting the sour air.
The bodies are about six feet from the opening, arranged in a horizontal line going back into the cave. They are all dressed the same … white eyelet dresses. No shoes. A ribbon in their hair. They look like little girls, but they aren’t.
The nearest one is identifiable, but the ones toward the back are much more decomposed. The furthest body is nearly a skeleton. I’m not surprised to see some of the women are missing limbs, but they are remarkably intact. Although this cave is a perfect hiding place, a starving animal — maybe even a vulture — would have found a way to secure a meal.
Pinpointing my light to pull my gaze away from the broader scene to look more closely at each detail, I scan down the body of the closest one and notice she’s holding something in her hands.
A flower.
Scanning across the other six, I see the same thing. The fucking bastard has crossed their hands over their abdomens and each have what appears to be the remnants of a rose in their hands.
White dress.
Pink rose.
The flashback nearly takes me to my knees and I mentally shake myself — I can think about that later. Right now, I have seven human beings I need to honor by keeping my shit together.
Flashing the light around the cave, it picks up something I hadn’t noticed before. I grit my teeth. Any trace of doubt is gone. This is a ritual killer. And this isn’t a grave; it’s a shrine.
In the very back of the cave are pictures in frames. Seven of them, each with a pile of small bones lying in front of it. They are too small to be human bones, but bones nonetheless. And, what is that? Feathers? Yes, feathers. I can’t tell if they were placed here or had fallen from birds coming in to feed on the corpses.
My vision blurs and I blink the salty tears back. I look at each woman again. I look at them with the honor they deserve.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper to each one in turn.
Then I back out of the cave, careful not to disturb the scene.
Chapter 2 — Beth
The pain in my side becomes a pounding ache as I run back up the trail, searching for a cell signal. Blisters have formed on my feet and sweat is pouring down my face, but I run as fast as the rock and gravel will allow.
Dead bodies?
Seven of them?
I can’t imagine what Gage is going through right now.
I make it to the spot where I’d spoken to 911 not long before, while we were trying to get help for Daniel. I’d snatched the phone away from his hysterical mother and instructed the rescue team of our location, credentials and how Gage was prepared to secure the boy, making their job a hundred times easier.
Speaking to 911 for the second time that day, I still can’t believe how we’ve morphed from a dream into a nightmare.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
The signal is weak, the dispatcher’s voice breaking in and out. I climb higher, asking the woman to hold while I find a place where it’s stronger.
Barely able
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