The Devil's Daughter (Hidden Sins #1)(4)

“You gotta get here, and fast. There’s . . .” Chase’s voice broke. “There’s a dead body out on the Parkinsons’ property. It’s a girl, man.”

Neveah.





CHAPTER TWO


Zach’s stomach surged into his throat as he climbed out of the cruiser. They’d followed Chase’s instructions out of town to the north. The dirt road led off Highway 434 and into the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. He spotted the only other police cruiser Clear Springs had to its name off the side of the road, Chase’s long frame leaning against it. He had his head in his hands.

Considering the man had seen a thing or two when he worked homicide over in Seattle before moving here a few years ago, that didn’t bode well. In the time Zach had known Chase, he’d never seen the other man riled—or as hopeless as he looked now.

The Marines hadn’t been a cakewalk for Zach. He’d experienced things in the desert that he wished he could wipe out from his mind, even nine years later. This was different. Nearly a decade working in Clear Springs and the closest he’d come to a murder case was a lost hiker who’d wandered miles off course and ended up freezing to death near Sawfoot Ridge.

That was it.

This was worlds different.

“Call it in.”

Henry gave him a look like he was crazy, his bushy gray eyebrows sliding up his forehead. “To who?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? He took a deep breath and tried to think. Clear Springs was small enough that they didn’t even have their own mortuary. They didn’t have detectives. They didn’t have a damn thing except him, Henry, and Chase. “Call the coroner over in Augusta. Keep it quiet. I don’t want the Smiths to hear about this before we have a chance to confirm—”

“You think it’s Neveah?” The shock in Henry’s voice made him feel like a monster.

Zach opened the door. “I won’t know until I get a look at the body. Make the call.” He got out. It was tempting to take some time, to do something to prolong the moment when he had to walk around Chase’s vehicle and look at the body of a girl who had once lived and loved and laughed. But that was not why he was here—he was here to do right by her, whoever she was.

So he braced himself and tapped Chase’s shoulder. “Tell me.”

Chase gave a full-body shudder, but his voice was almost calm when he said, “I got a call from old-man Parkinson about some teenagers trespassing on his property. I took my time, because you know how he is.”

Zach knew. He could also hear the guilt in his deputy’s voice. “You couldn’t have known.”

“But—” Chase shook his head, his brown eyes wide as if he were in shock. “Right. You’re right. This shit is just messing with my head, you know?”

“I know.” He realized he was still stalling and motioned his deputy over. “Talk to me while I take a look.”

Walking around that car was hard—harder than it should have been. Seeing the flash of pale skin down in the bushes on the side of the road was harder yet. Zach walked to the body on leaden feet and crouched down. The girl was on her stomach, one arm outstretched as if she was reaching for help and the other curled underneath her. Her dark hair was a tangled mess that hid her face. And she was naked.

Chase cleared his throat. “I was going to cover her, but . . .”

“You did the right thing.” As much as he wanted to grant her that respect, they needed to gather evidence before they moved her.

He examined the ground. There was one set of footprints—Chase’s—that circled the body, and scuff marks where he’d obviously checked for a pulse. No other marks, except for a set of bare footprints that must belong to the girl. He frowned. Surely she didn’t walk here and fall over dead?

Zach sat back on his heels and looked around. They were a good ten miles from town, but ten miles wasn’t that far in the grand scheme of things. With the mountain range rising in the distance, there was no reason for her to be lost. Every local knew that if you put the range at your back and started walking, you’d run into some sort of civilization sooner rather than later. He put that in the back of his mind and returned to his examination.

Faint bruises covered her back and ran down her arms and legs, ranging in size from what could be fingerprints to large ones indicating a more serious blow. The colors varied, too—some nearly black and others faded to a sickly green-yellow. So, not all new. She certainly couldn’t have gotten them all in the few days she’d been missing.

You’re getting ahead of yourself.

Right.

He leaned closer, carefully putting his hand on the dirt to stabilize himself. There was a marking between her shoulder blades, a smudge of blue-black that looked like ink. A tattoo? There was another on her hip, and yet another one on the wrist of the outstretched arm. What the hell?

Whatever the origin of these marks, he doubted they were something she’d consented to. Time would tell, though, and he’d have to wait to hear from the coroner to know for sure.

Only one thing left to see.

He lifted the curtain of her hair, and froze.

The girl wasn’t Neveah Smith.



It’s finally happening.

Eden Collins sat in her car and told herself for the thousandth time that she was a fool. She shouldn’t be here. There was nothing she could offer the situation that wouldn’t make everything worse. She tapped her finger on the steering wheel, staring at the entrance to the Clear Springs police station. Growing up, she’d been in there once or twice when her mother decided that some outside help was necessary to rein in her rebellious daughter.