Ten minutes later, Ramsey pulled up in front of the Mission, and the two went inside, where the reverend and a half dozen women were mixing up herbs into some kind of concoction. The room smelled of lemon and sage.
The chance of finding Bonnie anywhere near the Shepards’ house was slim to none. What they had to do now was figure out where Bonnie had gone with Elena, and the only other person Bonnie knew in Nashville was Sonny. “Sarah,” Melina said.
The reverend, who was wearing a white apron and had pulled back her red hair in a tight ponytail, excused herself and approached them. She removed latex gloves and guided them back to her office. “Have you found the man who attacked the girls?”
“Not yet.” Melina heard the impatience sharpening her tone. “We’re working on it. I’m here about Sam. Have you seen him lately?”
“Yeah, he was in early but had to leave suddenly. Said there was something going on at home. Is something wrong?”
“Can you tell me where he lives?” Melina asked.
“Why Sam? There is no way he’s the guy you’re looking for,” Sarah insisted. “He was at the Mission the night of your attack.”
“We want to question him about something else,” Melina said. “He might be connected to another case we’re working. Once we’ve sorted out his involvement, I’ll explain it all to you, but for now I need his address. I need to talk to him.”
“Sure.” Sarah clicked several keys on her computer. “He doesn’t live far from here.” She rattled off the address and phone number.
Melina typed both into her phone. “That’s not far from where Bonnie crashed her car,” Melina said to Ramsey.
“Who’s Bonnie?” Sarah asked.
“It’s part of that long story I’m going to owe you,” Melina said as she was already turning to follow Ramsey.
Ramsey received the call from Andy as he and Melina were en route to Sonny’s house. Melina’s body was rigid with tension, and he suspected she was struggling to hold her focus. “Andy, what do you have?”
“I’ve been in contact with the forensic team working at the Mecum property,” she said. “They’ve excavated three bodies.”
He switched the call to speaker so Melina could hear, hoping a shift to Mecum might distract her a moment from Sam and Elena. “Three bodies?”
Melina looked at him, her gaze sharpening.
“Two are fairly recent. The third is much older, maybe even dating back to the 1990s. All appear to be female with significant cranial damage. No identifications yet.”
“Keep searching for other properties. This guy likely has money, so he can afford to have other venues like this one.”
“It’ll take time, but I’m on it,” Andy said.
Ramsey ended the call, again wishing he had a better arsenal of comforting words. “You heard most of that?”
“A murder that goes back over two decades. Wasn’t that about the time he bought his property and also had his first confirmed kill?”
“He had the land for almost nine years before the first kill in 1999. But men like him often live in a very elaborate fantasy world before they graduate to murder,” he said.
“We’re getting closer and I want to give the Mecum case my full attention, but I can’t until I find Elena.” The silence that followed was chock full of emotions. She stared out the car window for close to a minute as she seemed to gather herself.
“Bonnie will not get far.”
Melina shook her head, knowing that Bonnie was clever and had survived this long because she knew how to hide. “She did last time.”
Bonnie parked in front of Sonny’s house. There was no car in the driveway. He would be here soon, and they could collect Elena and get on the road.
She walked around to the back side of the house to the sliding glass door. She pulled out a stainless steel knife that she had procured from a restaurant and shoved it between the lock and the jamb. A couple of wiggles and the lock popped.
“Sonny, I thought I taught you better than this.”
Inside the house, she walked directly into the kitchen, grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, and pulled out her cell phone and dialed his number. The call went to voicemail. “Sonny, it’s me. Come on home and let’s get going.”
She opened a kitchen cabinet, smiling when she saw the cans of SpaghettiOs. He’d loved those as a kid. She took a long pull on her beer and moved into the living room toward a collection of guitars displayed on the wall. Several were autographed. She lightly strummed the strings on an old Gibson.
Bonnie had to admit the kid had done all right for himself in spite of her. He had made the home he had always wanted. She never could stand being in one place for long. That was not likely to change, but Sonny and she would make it work for Elena’s sake.
Behind her, floorboards creaked in the back hallway.
After finishing her beer, she set the bottle on a wooden table and walked toward the living room. “Sonny, baby?”
Someone came up behind her, and she expected to hear Sonny’s voice. Instead, a cord wrapped around her throat and cut off her air. She reached for the cord, trying to wedge her fingers underneath. “Sonny?”
The cord cut into her skin, igniting her strong survival instinct. She dragged her heel down his shin, and when he grunted, she realized she was not dealing with Sonny. She squirmed against him, hoping to break his concentration, but his grip tightened as if he enjoyed her struggle.
Her head began to swim. She gasped, and with the last of the air in her lungs, whispered, “Don’t.”
Her attacker, knowing she was near death, whirled her around to face a mirror. As the cord slackened, she could breathe and focus beyond her grossly distorted features to the man killing her. He had graying hair, dark eyes, and a smile.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t catch your name.”
She willed him to see the desperation in her eyes. Whatever was driving this guy, she was sure she could change his mind. “Baby.”
The man snatched her purse and pawed through receipts, coins, a bundle of credit cards that no longer worked, a bottle of tranquilizers, and the motel room key that unlocked the room in which Elena now slept. He grabbed the key. “Is he here?”
Her knees were weak, and it was difficult to stand. “What?”
“Is Sam here? Is he with Melina?”
“Melina? How do you know her?”
“I know all about her. Where is she?”
When she did not answer, he tightened the cord around her neck again. “Where does she live? Where can I find her?”
She grabbed at the cord but could not wedge her fingers underneath.
His temper and frustration were rising, and he twisted the rope tighter. Her eyes felt as if they were going to bulge out of her head. “Are they together?”
The cord’s slick nylon edge cut deeper into her skin, drawing blood that trickled down her neck. She mouthed a response but couldn’t draw in enough air.
He loosened his hold just enough for her to breathe. “Are they together?”
She had been around long enough to recognize the face of evil. He was never going to let her go. Best she could hope for now was to die fast. She spit in his face. “Bonnie says go fuck yourself.”
As Mecum looked at Bonnie’s bloodied face and her blown pupils, he knew he had screwed up. It had been years since he had really lost control. But the pressure of time was eating at him, and when she had spit in his face, his need to punish her had been visceral.
His window of opportunity to find Melina was closing. He released his grip on her neck and watched her body slide to the floor into a crumpled pile of bones and flesh. He had ruined this chance to find Melina, but he did not have time to dwell on his failure.
He wiped the bloody spittle from his face with his sleeve and then hefted Bonnie’s lifeless body over his shoulder. He carried it into the back bedroom, dumped it on the bed, and then covered it with a blanket.
Mecum returned to the living room and picked up the motel key still tucked in the motel’s sleeve. Room 132. Convenient. It was not Melina’s address, but it was a step closer.
As he crossed the living room, he pocketed the key and the phone. Before leaving the house, he paused at a mirror and inspected his face. His cheeks were flushed but there were no scratch marks. Using his fingers, he smoothed out his thick hair until it was neat and presentable.
He slid into his van, now sporting magnetic signs that read THOMPSON’S AIR-CONDITIONING. His heart raced when he started the engine. He wound through traffic toward the motel in East Nashville. It was not much to look at but fit the woman’s personality.
He parked across the lot from the room and watched it closely for several minutes. There was no sign of anyone. He searched the woman’s phone for texts. The only person she had texted in the last day had been Sonny. Who the hell was Sonny? The last text read, Baby, I’m coming to your place. The girl is waiting safe in a motel.
Your place. He had found Bonnie at Sam’s house. Was Sonny Sam? The girl. Who was Bonnie talking about? Was she referring to Melina? His blood stirring, he took a chance and got out of the car and crossed the lot. He quickly swiped the key and stepped into the darkened, cool room. He saw the small figure lying on the bed and knew it was a child and not a woman. Not his Melina.