Worth Dying For (A Slaughter Creek Novel) by Rita Herron

offering comfort, but his features were strained with shock as well.
    Jake stood between the body and the teens, his phone pressed to his ear.
    Liz stopped beside the couple and knelt to speak to them while Rafe strode toward Jake. “You two found the body?” she asked quietly.
    They both nodded, and the girl looked up at her with tearstained eyes. “It’s so horrible. The vultures were on her. . . .”
    The boy hugged her to his side.
    The girl sniffled. “My mom’s going to kill me for cutting school.”
    Liz smiled softly. “I’m sure your mother will just be glad that you’re okay.”
    “No, I’ll be grounded for life,” she sobbed.
    Liz squeezed her arm. “Maybe, but she’ll also be relieved that you aren’t hurt.” She turned to address the boy. “Tell me what happened.”
    He squared his shoulders in a show of bravado. She was sure that act was for the girl. In truth, he looked as if he might hurl any second.
    He gestured toward the canoe on the bank. “We came out here to be alone.”
    “Did you see anyone else around the area?”
    He shook his head. “Carina saw vultures diving toward the ground. That’s when we spotted the woman.”
    “How about where you put the boat in? Anyone there? A car, maybe?”
    They both shook their heads.
    “Did you hear anything? Voices in the woods? A boat or car motor?”
    The girl swiped at her tears. “No.”
    “The place was deserted,” he said.
    Liz pushed her card into the boy’s hand. “If either of you think of anything else, please let us know.”
    The boy looked up, shading his eyes with his hand. “You’re going to catch whoever did that to her, aren’t you?”
    Liz offered him an encouraging look. “Yes, we’ll catch him.”
    Of course, the police had told her the same thing when her mother was murdered. But her case had gone cold until Liz reopened it.
    She wouldn’t let this one go cold. She’d get justice for these women.

Chapter Eleven

    R afe grimaced as he studied the scene. Leaving the woman’s body in the weeds by the creek for the vultures to feast on was consistent with the last murder.
    But if they were dealing with the same killer, why the eyes this time, instead of the hands?
    In light of the fact that Liz thought she’d seen Harlan the night before, he had to consider the possibility that he had resurfaced and changed his MO. Instead of slashing his victim’s throats, he’d decided to sever body parts.
    But that was a drastic change.
    He glanced at Liz, and saw her rub her fingers across her temple in thought. She was thinking the same thing.
    Except for Liz’s mother and Liz, who’d been abducted in a desperate attempt to cover his crimes and save himself from apprehension, all of Harlan’s victims had been young single mothers, all DHS cases.
    But Ester Banning was not a young woman. She was in her early fifties. The woman on the ground looked about the same age. The victimology didn’t match the pattern of Harlan’s targets.
    Leaves rustled, and Dr. Bullock appeared, glasses slipping down his nose as he picked his way through the weeds. A tall, lanky man with dark curly hair, bright blue eyes, and a nervous tic in his jaw followed on his heels. Dr. Bullock introduced him as a bone specialist.
    Liz joined them, her gaze raking over the victim’s tattered clothing and mangled face. Blood had trickled down her cheeks, her face looked gaunt and muddy, and the vultures had pecked at her eye sockets, face, and arms.
    “My God,” Liz murmured. “Poor woman.”
    “What do you think?” Rafe asked.
    Dr. Bullock knelt beside the victim and touched her skin, then conducted a liver temp test. “Hard to tell time of death till I get her on the table. Clothes are wet, so I’d say she was dumped in the creek like Ester Banning and washed up on the bank with the current.” Dr. Bullock touched the ground and then gestured toward the creek. “A storm threatened last night, making the current stronger. Soil is damp,