Girl Wrapped in Branches: Ella Porter FBI Mystery Thriller Book 3 (Ella Porter FBI Mystery Thrillers) by Georgia Wagner

Author:Georgia Wagner [Wagner, Georgia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-12-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Helen bustled hurriedly up after her, prattling, “Sorry if it's a bit of a mess. Been doing cleaning today while the boys are out.”

“Boys?” Ella questioned, reminded again of the sheriff's earlier insistence that Abraham did not live with his mother, Helen.

“Oh, yes. My son, Abraham, and my husband.”

“Who's your husband?”

“I'm sure you haven't met him, dearie. Here—here, careful for the spill.”

Ella stared at the ground. Soap and slick water spread across the floor. A mop in one corner. A bucket next to it. Towels everywhere.

She hesitated, glancing around the small, cramped space. “Cleaning, huh?” she said slowly.

In one corner of the room, she spotted a wooden table.

Helen gestured at it. “Oh, yes—venison. Butchered a five-point buck last night. Had to clean to make sure we don't get that gamey smell. Not like last time, huh, Brandon?”

“No, Helen,” said the sheriff's voice, and Ella started, turning sharply to realize McClellan was right behind her. Far closer than made her comfortable.

She stepped away from the door, frowning at the slick ground, and the table where apparently a buck had been butchered.

It was all off, but now, Ella wasn't sure if she'd find anything in the house... Why was Helen inviting her in?

Unless this was a bluff. A last-ditch attempt to keep her away...

This small, portly woman, though?

Ella wrinkled her nose. She looked more like someone's doting mother than a killer...

Yet... twenty young women missing according to Mortimer. If his information could be trusted. She still didn't know the source.

But then, Ella bit her lip and moved, stepping into the house. Her blood pumping. She didn't wait for invitation either. She walked across the slick floor, apologizing briefly but then marching towards the side of the house which had been blockaded by the books in the window.

“Oh—hang on a moment!” said Helen excitedly.

But Ella just shot a look back and said, “Don't mind me. Just taking you up on that invite to look around.”

She reached a door, tried the door knob. Locked. She frowned and gestured at it. “What's this room?”

“That? Oh—that's Abraham's. He sometimes locks it when he leaves.”

Ella shook her head. “I need it open.”

“I'm afraid he has the only key.”

“Mhmm. I'll go through the window then. That work for you?”

“I... oh... umm... Oh, look—silly me. He left his key right here, see?”

Ella frowned as the woman pretended to pick something off the mantelpiece, but she'd obviously had it in her palm. A small brass key appeared and was handed to Ella. Ella took the key, forcing a smile of her own, hoping it was a disarming expression, then slipped the key into the lock, turning it.

Click.

The door creaked on old hinges as she pushed it with her shoulder. She kept an eye on Helen to her right and on the Sheriff who was still lingering in the doorway.

And then she stepped into Abraham's bedroom.

A spartan affair.

A hand-hewn bed frame in the corner, with a simple mattress. The blankets were neatly folded and a pillow rested perfectly symmetrically with the headboard.

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