I don’t want to tell this story to Detective Myers or to anyone else for that matter. But maybe she already knows. Maybe she’s already dug into my past. People do that. They pick and dig and peer into our most private lives as if it is their privilege to unearth our secrets.

As always when I think of that day, I’m filled with anger. What right had Keith Russell to do this to me? What right did he have to destroy my life before it had barely started? Afterward, therapists had all pointed out that I was in control of my own life. How I responded and chose to live the rest of it was what was important. But I don’t think that’s entirely true. Like every other child who’s been the victim of an abuser, your life is different, altered, and there’s nothing you can do about that.

* * *

I finally grow drowsy, with Sadie stretched out on the floor next to me, where I can reach my hand down and touch her back, feel her even breathing.

My phone vibrates on my pillow. Unknown caller. I want to kill the bastard.

“Hello!”

“Hello, Melinda Wright.”

“What the fuck do you want from me?”

Big raspy breath. “I’m the one who knows, and I won’t be happy until you’re back in that cellar for good.”

CHAPTER 39 - Rita

CHAPTER 39

Rita

I’M SUPPOSED TO BE OFF TODAY, BUT I WAS JUST DRIVING MYSELF CRAZY at home, so I came in. We need to get our suspects in for questioning, but better to wait until Sheriff Skinner gets back to me with what his forensics team found. That report will be key in our questioning. But I’m antsy as hell waiting. I’ve worked through files on my other cases, made a few phone calls, but the Bradley case intrudes on my thoughts, scenarios running around and around, squirrels in a cage.

My phone rings. An unfamiliar number pops up on the screen.

“Rita?” At first, I don’t recognize the voice.

“Yes.”

“Joe Thorne.”

I break into a smile. Joe and I go back a ways, but I haven’t heard from him in a couple of years. He’s an FBI agent I’d worked with on a case five or six years ago. And the memories of that case—or, more especially, what happened afterward—bring a flutter to my heart and a blush to my cheeks. He’d reached out a few times in the subsequent years, but I, coward that I am when it comes to relationships, had let things drop. Now here he is again, stepping back into my world, and I’m both excited and troubled at the prospect, but above everything else, I’m a professional. I can handle this.

“Great to hear from you, Joe. It’s been a while. How are you?”