The Devil's Daughter (Hidden Sins #1)(40)
“A search . . . oh.” Julie pressed a hand to her mouth, her eyes going wide. “You don’t think she’s lost out there? Neveah might not be an outdoors kind of girl, but she knows the area. She wouldn’t wander into the mountains, especially at this time of year when the nights get so cold.”
He knew that. He also knew that Elouise hadn’t tattooed herself, stripped naked, and then wandered out into the night, either.
Robert’s eyebrows slanted down. “You’re looking in the wrong direction, Zach. I told you once and I’ll tell you again: Martha Collins has our girl.”
If he didn’t handle the situation carefully, they’d have their church organized into a well-mannered lynch mob and be out there beating on the gates of Elysia by nightfall. Zach kept his tone mild. “I have someone searching the commune as we speak.”
“Eden Collins.” Julie practically spat the name, which told him all he needed to know about her opinion of that. Folks in these parts had memories that went back a long time, and they tended to view Eden as the daughter of the devil. He’d been the same way if he was going to be perfectly honest, though his opinion had changed the more time he spent with her. She was smart and capable, and if she was under Martha’s spell, he’d seen no evidence of it.
“Word does travel fast in these parts.”
“Don’t try that aw-golly-gee-shucks bullshit with us, Zach.” Robert drew himself up, stretching to all six feet three inches of his height. “If you’re going to focus on that other girl instead, then we’ll take matters into our own hands.”
What the hell is he talking about?
It came to him all at once. “Other girl.” He looked at Julie and then at Robert, taking in the stubborn set of her chin, the defiance in his eyes. Yep, he’d heard the man correctly. He spoke carefully, doing his damnedest not to lose it. “You don’t mean you want me to walk away from Elouise Perkins’s death to put every resource I have on chasing down Neveah.” If it hadn’t occurred to them that the two things were related, he sure as hell wasn’t going to be the first to voice his suspicions.
“Elouise Perkins is trash.” Robert tried to shush her, but Julie was having none of it. “No, I’m going to say it. Our girl might be a little misguided at times, but she’s a good girl. She was raised right, and she’s got big plans for her future. God might strike me down for saying it, but Elouise Perkins most likely put herself in a bad position with some boy and got herself killed as a result.”
Zach opened his mouth, but words failed him. It wasn’t only that Julie had that poor girl’s number so damn wrong. It wasn’t that she put her daughter above some other teenager she’d probably seen around town only here and there. It wasn’t even that she was coming across as a judgmental monster, either. “That girl is dead, Julie. Dead. She’s not coming back, and she sure as fuck didn’t do a damn thing to bring that on herself.” He pointed at his door. “Get out. I’m doing my best for both those girls, because that’s what they both deserve. I’ll remind you kindly to remember that.”
He waited until they were in the doorway to say, “And if I hear about you riling up the church folk to go after Martha Collins, I will arrest the lot of you for trespassing.”
The look Julie sent him was downright lethal. “I always knew you had a soft spot for that cult, Zach, but you’re going too far this time.”
“I’m upholding the law, which is more than I can say for whatever is going through your head right now.” Until he had genuine proof that Martha or one of her flock had something to do with either Elouise Perkins’s death or Neveah Smith’s disappearance—or, heaven help him, both—he’d do everything in his power to bring them to justice. But he wasn’t going to start handing out pitchforks and torches.
Not yet, anyway.
There was a proper way to do things, and he was already crossing that line by enlisting Eden in his investigation. He waited for the Smiths to leave before getting up and closing the office door. He thumped his forehead on the thick wood a few times, but nothing changed.
So he started making calls. It was too late to start the search today, but if they got going early tomorrow morning, they’d have all day to comb the surrounding area. The boys up in Augusta had already volunteered to be brought in on it, and the state troopers were ready whenever he was.
He just hoped like hell that taking this step wasn’t going to spook the killer into killing again.
It took two hours to coordinate everything, and part of him resented the time spent. He didn’t think a search was going to do a damn bit of good—the Smiths were right on that count. Neveah might be wild and uncontrollable, but she wasn’t stupid enough to wander into the mountains and die out there.
On a whim, he called down to the Greyhound office and, with a big of finagling, was put through to the driver who’d been working their circuit this weekend. The man had picked up only a single passenger in Augusta—an old man—and hadn’t seen anyone matching Neveah’s description. Zach thanked him and hung up, dread curdling his stomach.
It was time to change tactics.
He called Eden.
She answered almost immediately, the background noise making him think she was driving. “Yes?”
“How’d it go?” How are you? He couldn’t ask that, though. He’d been the one to draw the line in the sand about distractions and then promptly go and break his own damn rule. The least he could do was keep them focused on the case. It’s more important than dwelling on how good she tastes . . .