When no reply came, she looked at the line of women. “Has anyone seen a girl with long blonde hair recently?”
The women wore terrified expressions and shook their heads in the negative. “Keep together, don’t leave anyone behind when you return to the hall.”
She turned and ran out the door and back to the main arena. She hit her mic. “Wolfe, no luck at the main arena, heading toward the promenade now. All deputies with the exception of Rowley be on the lookout for Emily Wolfe. Alton out.”
Fear cramped her gut but she took off at a run toward the promenade area. Dancing advertising signs illuminated the entrance to the fairgrounds and banners with various events flapped in the breeze. She noticed a fall of blonde hair and jogged toward a group of teenagers chatting by a refreshment stand, her gaze doing a visual scan of everyone in the area. The blonde-haired girl in the group turned around and gave her a wide-eyed stare. She smiled then bit back despair at not finding the girls and changed course.
After contacting Rowley to make sure he had eyes on Provine, she headed back to the hall. Emily was mature and levelheaded. Causing her father so much worry seemed out of character. When she placed herself in danger at the computer shop, she made sure her father had her back. She must be okay or she would have activated her tracker.
As she reached the hall, Kane, Wolfe, and Rowley walked outside. “What’s happening? Who is watching Provine?”
“Walters is chatting with him now.” Kane’s gaze moved over her face and he handed her a bottle of water. “We’ve done a recon of the hall and Emily isn’t there.”
Jenna drank greedily from the bottle. “I want everyone else searching for her. Break the fairgrounds into sections and get the deputies to check in once they’re cleared.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Kane’s gaze moved over the fairgrounds. “Where do we start?”
Panic welled in her belly. Everything was moving too slow. She couldn’t just stand there, she had to do something. “Get them organized, Kane. I’m not waiting. I’m heading to the backlot—that’s where I’d go if I wanted to murder someone.”
When Kane started issuing orders into his mic, she looked at Wolfe’s drawn face and started to jog toward the back of the fairgrounds with the deputies on her heels. “She hasn’t activated her tracker yet?”
“Nope.” Wolfe’s pale gaze moved across the mass of buildings spread out in all directions. “I hope she is just cooling off somewhere and chatting with friends. She’s met quite a few since we moved here.” His cellphone let out a piercing ringtone. “That’s her tracker brooch signal. We’ll be able to hear her but it’s not a two-way. I’ll put my phone on speaker, move away from the noise.”
“Daddy? I know the name of the killer.”
Fifty-Two
Emily Wolfe wished she had alerted her dad earlier. After what had happened to Aimee, she had promised to tell her father when someone was in danger. In fact, she should have told him the moment she walked out of the restroom and discovered Julia had taken off to follow a stupid character. She had seen players nearly run over trying to catch a character. They seemed to fixate on the game and forget their surroundings. Her father’s stern warning not to trust a soul had filled her mind, but in fear of her friend’s safety, she bolted in the direction Julia had headed. She doubted a killer would try to kill two girls walking together. She had seen Julia in the distance, her head illuminated by the screen of her cellphone.
After leaving the lighted areas far behind and moving into the backlot, she feared for her safety and was about to call out to her friend to stop when a man stepped out of a dark building as if he had been waiting for her to arrive. It seemed creepy strange as if he just happened to be in the deserted area of the fairgrounds. A tingle of fearful anticipation ran down her spine and she melted into the shadows, but the sight of Julia speaking with someone she knew convinced her something was terribly wrong. Dad thinks the killer knows the victims. When the man bent to look at the cellphone, she recognized him. He’d been right in front of them all along, yet nobody had suspected him.
From the body language, he had offered to escort her to find the character, and they headed toward a long, dark building. She had seen Julia’s grateful smile and immediately hit her tracker button. Her short message to her father lacked the vital information he required, and he would be fuming not knowing her exact location. As she pressed her back against the cool brick wall of the stables and turkey-peeked around the corner, terror like nothing she had experienced before gripped her.
In the dimly lit interior, Julia strolled beside him, her head focused on the cellphone in her hand, chatting like there was no tomorrow. Her friend had failed to notice the man beside her was swinging a black sock filled with something heavy. She had no doubt that in the next few moments she would witness Julia’s murder.
She wanted to scream out a warning and rush to her friend’s aid, but even the defense moves her father had taught her would not stop a psychopathic lunatic. Legs heavy, she moved back a few steps, hoping the slight crunch of the gravel under her boots would not give her away. Sweat trickled down her back and she swallowed hard, wishing the shadows would conceal her. She had to get help but the moment she opened her mouth, the killer would hear her.
Heart pounding, she lifted her shirt to bring the glittery guitar brooch containing one of the trackers to her mouth and kept her voice to a whisper. “Dad, I’m at the other end of the fairgrounds, the last stable block, on the right. Come quickly. It’s Reverend Jones. He’s going to kill Julia.”
Palms sweaty and heart thumping against her ribs, she crept forward. Hearing a thump then the sound of something hitting the ground, she trembled uncontrollably. She had to know what was happening to her friend and took a quick peek around the corner then froze. Julia lay sprawled on the ground, her arms and legs twitching, but Reverend Jones was nowhere in sight.
The need to run bunched her muscles and she darted out of her hiding place. As the crunch of footsteps came close behind her, she opened her mouth to scream but the sound came out in a whimper. Gasping for air, she chanced a look over one shoulder. He was less than five feet from her and gaining fast.
The leather soles of her new cowboy boots slipped on the gravel but she had a head start and could run fast. She headed for the blacktop in the middle of the grounds and took off at full speed. Behind her, his footsteps pounded on the road and she could hear his heavy breathing getting closer. I have to escape.
She lifted her knees and sprinted toward the lights. Her dad would be coming and she just had to reach him. If she could make it around the last building, she would be in the open and he would see her. The heavy footsteps thundered behind her. A strong hand grasped her hair and pain shot up her neck as Jones wrenched her to a halt. She twisted and stared into the face of evil.
Clawing at his face and eyes, and trying to knee him, Emily fought using every move her father had taught her. “Daddy, help me.”
Gasping, she lifted her knee sharply and hit pay dirt. Jones made a long moaning sound and let go of her hair but seemed to recover in a split second. Pain shot through her face from his punch and she staggered then broke away and ran. Her vision blurred, tears streamed down her face but she made it around the last building and could see people heading toward her. “Daddeeeeeee.”
“He can’t help you now.” The reverend’s voice had changed to a sinister growl.
The sharp tug on her scalp pulled her to a standstill once more and she fell to the ground with the weight of him on top of her. Winded, she gasped in a painful breath. The stink of him filled her nostrils and his sweat dripped onto her face. She had clawed his cheeks and blood oozed from the corner of one eye.