Appalachian Prey

“We’ll do it together. Tonight.”

Lilah wavered. It would be nice to stay with Harlan. There was nowhere she’d feel more protected. On the other hand, going to his place would stir up the old memories of the time they’d spent together. A happier time when she’d thought they’d be together forever.

Harlan obviously sensed her hesitation and moved in for the kill. “Come on,” he said in his husky, sexy voice. “It’ll give us an opportunity to talk. I’m still not convinced the baby isn’t mine.”

The baby. Lilah’s hand went to her stomach. She had to consider more than just her own feelings. Harlan could protect her...protect them. It didn’t mean they were a couple again. And there was no denying that she and all her family were in danger. This was far from over—something deep and rotten and evil lay at the bottom of these two deaths.

It was only a matter of time before the killer struck again.

Who would be next?

Chapter Five (#u072b5b70-9af4-50a1-9d9e-d6ec7fafadd7)

“It’s a formality.”

Harlan placed his broad hand on the small of her back and guided her into the antiseptic, frigid forensics room located in the bowels of the county hospital.

Lilah’s breath came in rapid, shallow bursts. I can’t do this. She thought of Ed. He was always in the background at family gatherings, a quiet presence and foil to Darla’s chatter and dramatics. A seemingly decent guy.

But now, the normally stoic Ed was barely holding himself together. His large hands were trembling by his sides.

I have to be here. It’s the last kindness I can do for my sister. Help her family in their time of need.

“It will all be over in a minute,” Harlan whispered reassuringly in her ear.

“Right.” One quick glance, a thumbs-up to the coroner from Ed and she was out of there.

An older woman in pastel blue scrubs and a white coat nodded at her briskly, but not unkindly. Lilah’s gaze dropped to the gurney where a body was draped over with a white sheet. Darla’s body. She forced her leaden feet forward and nodded, glad Harlan’s hand remained at the base of her spine. Ed groaned and then pinched his lips together in determination. Lilah patted his arm.

At his nod, the woman turned down the sheet with a practiced flick of her wrist.

Red lipstick blazed against pale alabaster skin tinged with a morgue-blue undertone. Dishwater-blond hair fell carelessly over stiff shoulders. The curve of her jaw and cheekbones, the delicate arch of her brows, a certain sculpting of the nose and lips—Lilah could see herself in the family genetics. Thank heavens they had only revealed her face. There was no hint of the violence she’d endured. But if rolled over, Darla’s body would have been visibly marred by shotgun pellets.

The sheet was short on the left side and Lilah observed Darla’s lifeless hand that peeked out from under the edge of the cover.

“It’s her,” Ed croaked. “Darla Marie Tedder Stovall.”

The woman immediately pulled the sheet back over Darla, covering her face.

Harlan nodded to the technician. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“The secretary out front will have you sign a paper confirming the identification. Sorry for your loss.”

They were officially dismissed.

Lilah wanted to say goodbye to Darla, say she was sorry that sharp words were the last ones spoken between them. But it was too late. She swallowed the regret and walked out of the cold room, breathing deeply as they headed toward the desk. A young man handed them a clipboard and pen. “Sign here,” he said, motioning to the signature line at the bottom of the sheet.

Ed scribbled his name with shaking hands.

“There’s freshly brewed coffee,” he offered them. “Can I get y’all a cup?”

Ed shook his head and looked up at the ceiling.

“Yes—I mean, no.” She sure could use the comfort of warm caffeinated liquid, but her own needs were secondary for the next few months.

“How about some water?” Harlan asked her, his deep voice rumbling behind her.

“What I really want is to get out of here first.”

Harlan nodded. “Thanks, but we’re fine,” he told the tech, ushering them to the elevator.

Once inside, Harlan pressed the button and they rumbled up to the main floor. Ed exhaled and scrubbed at his face.

She couldn’t imagine the pain he must be in. “How are the kids doing this morning?” she said around the burn in her throat.

“Mom’s watching them.”

The elevator door opened and they emerged into the main lobby. The hustle and bustle seemed miles away from the stillness of the basement morgue. Ed walked out first, eyes blinking. He held out a hand to Lilah. “Thanks for coming in with me. It helped. I could tell Dad didn’t want to do it.”

She glanced over toward the patient waiting area where Ed’s father slowly rose from a vinyl sofa and shuffled their way. “Understandable. Call me if there’s anything I can do. Anything.”

He nodded and she watched as he and his father exited the building into the beautiful, sun-shining day.

“It should be dark and stormy,” she said, lips trembling. “And pouring down rain.”

A nagging sense of unease quivered in the dark recesses of her brain, and she rubbed her temples. Something wasn’t quite right about the viewing of Darla, other than the obvious.

“Headache?” Harlan asked.

“No. I can’t explain it. But I feel like I’m missing some important detail. I looked at Darla and...” Her voice drifted off.

“It’s been a shock. I should have insisted Ed do this himself.”

“It would have only made things harder for him, and he needs to be strong for his kids. And it wasn’t just seeing her dead. It’s something else.”

“I’ll get you that water and we’ll be on our way.”

Alone, she regarded the preoccupied staff and visitors go about the business of living.

Harlan returned and pressed a bottle of water into her hands. Lilah sipped it tentatively. Not too bad, actually. It erased the lingering chill in her belly. “Maybe this will help me think better.”

“Do you need to go back into the examining room?”

“Hope not. Let me sit here a spell and concentrate.”

His hand was powerful and comforting as he guided her to an unused waiting room and onto a sofa. “Take your time. If you want, we can come back tomorrow and talk to the forensics doctor if you need to. No rush.”

She didn’t want to return and she didn’t want to see her sister’s body again. Think. Lilah placed her head in her hands and reviewed the last few minutes as if she were a camera, detached and methodical, scanning the scene to replay it for details. She’d entered the morgue, blinking from the glaring whiteness of the fluorescent lights and the white walls. The technician had unrolled the white sheet, exposing Darla’s face, and then she’d glimpsed Darla’s left hand where the sheet had exposed her bare fingers curled at the edge of the metal gurney.