Twisted by Laura Griffin Read Free Book Online

flipped open the folder. After shuffling through a few pages, he tapped his finger on what looked like an e-mail. “Read this.”
    Allison checked the date. It was from ten years ago, almost to the day. The sender was listed as E. Poe and the recipient was a K. Langford at some company Allison had never heard of.
    “Where’d this come from?”
    “Our UNSUB. Dara Langford’s father got this in his in-box at work the week after his daughter’s body was recovered.”
    Allison read the words aloud: “ ‘In the startled ear ofnight / How they scream out their affright / Too much horrified to speak / They can only shriek, shriek.’ ”
    A chill snaked down Allison’s spine. She pictured a grieving father reading a message like that.
    “I assume you tried to trace this?”
    “We’ve had some of our best people on it,” Mark said as Allison thumbed through the other papers in the file—police reports, interview notes, an autopsy report. “He’s been good at covering his tracks, unfortunately. His communications have been completely untraceable. Is this the turn?”
    “Veer right up at the fork.”
    Allison stowed the file at her feet as they approached the sign for Stony Creek Park, which until this morning had been closed to the public. The CSIs had finished days ago, but the chief had wanted to deter curious teens and reporters from nosing around. Not that that had stopped them. Allison had been here this afternoon and seen the tire treads of what she guessed were news vans.
    Mark turned onto a dirt road that led to a trailhead. The trail was flat, making it a favorite for joggers and dog walkers. It made a three-mile loop through the woods, skirting the property where Allison’s apartment was located. He pulled up beside a wooden sign and looked at her.
    “I’m assuming you’re on this case now?”
    She opened her door. “That depends on tomorrow.” If he could be vague, so could she.
    She climbed out of the car and stood there for a moment in the near-darkness. Mark left the headlights on,and she heard the persistent ding of a warning bell before he closed the door.
    “Place closes at sundown,” she said, surveying the empty lot. “Sometimes we get teenagers who come out here to park, although the murder’s probably scared them off for a while.”
    “Or made them curious.”
    Allison dug into her pocket and pulled out a mini flashlight, which she pointed at the path. The footprints in the mud were new, and they didn’t look like athletic shoes. Reporters, maybe? Allison switched the light to her left hand, freeing her right hand, just in case. Last night’s humiliation was still fresh in her mind.
    She trudged into the woods with Mark close behind her. The air smelled of damp leaves and earth. As they moved into the trees, they lost the light of the parking lot and everything darkened.
    Her flashlight beam landed on a familiar tree stump. She stepped off the trail.
    “Through here,” she said, ducking under a branch.
    “You’ve been out here already?”
    “Earlier this afternoon, with one of the detectives—Jonah Macon. You met him yesterday.”
    “Briefly,” he said. “How many entrances to this greenbelt?”
    “Vehicle entrances? Only one. But it’s not fenced or anything, so the possibilities are pretty limitless for someone on foot.” Allison followed her flashlight over the carpet of dead leaves. “We have reason to believe she was actually killed here, not just dumped. A lot of blood had seeped into the ground around the remains.”
    The remains. It sounded so cold, when actually shewas talking about a vibrant young woman who’d had her whole life ahead of her.
    Mark’s footsteps crunched behind her. He had no trouble keeping up, despite the poor visibility and the awkward clothes.
    Her flashlight beam sliced through the darkness. It landed on a little orange flag attached to a stake in the ground.
    “Here.” She stopped beside it.
    “Scene’s been released?”
    “It’s