Cold Death
Ellie Kline Series: Book Nine
Mary Stone Donna Berdel
Copyright © 2021 by Mary Stone
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Mary Stone
To my husband.
Thank you for taking care of our home and its many inhabitants while I follow this dream of mine.
Donna Berdel
First, a big thank you to Mary Stone for taking a chance on me by collaborating on this story. I’m honored and indebted!And, of course, to my husband. Thank you for being you. You’re my rock.
Contents
Description
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Ellie Kline Series
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Description
Kill or be killed...
Despite her blossoming relationship with Clay Lockwood, Charleston police detective Ellie Kline will never find her happily ever after until Dr. Lawrence Kingsley is locked away for good...or dead. Not only did the sociopathic psychiatrist kidnap Ellie when she was fifteen, the serial killer has murdered or traumatized everyone Ellie has sworn to protect. She’s no longer looking for justice...she’s looking for vengeance.
Now, with Kingsley’s protégé in a psych ward, it’s up to Ellie to find Katarina’s young daughter, Bethany, the latest victim of Kingsley’s monstrous machinations, before he kills again.
But there’s nothing Kingsley loves more than a game of cat and mouse, with Ellie as his unwilling opponent. Before long, Ellie is drawn into the doctor’s twisted game as he leaves her clues that lead her on a dangerous hunt—one that could finally put an end to Kingsley...or to Ellie and everyone she loves.
Lock your doors, steel yourself, and hold on tight for Cold Death, the bone-chillingly nerve-racking and thrilling conclusion to the Ellie Kline Series.
1
Bethany flopped onto her side and wiggled deeper under the covers, pulling the blanket up to her chin. When rough fabric scratched her cheek, and a chemical odor tickled her nose, she frowned and tried to sink back into sleep, but the wrongness of the blanket poke-poke-poked at her brain.
What a weird dream.
The laundry detergent her mama used reminded Bethany of sunshine and flowers and made the covers soft. This dream blanket had been washed in something that smelled like chemicals and was itchy on her skin.
Eyes pressed shut, Bethany rolled onto her back and sniffed again. The blanket still smelled wrong. Plus, too much cold air was sneaking through and making her shiver. At home, the comforter was so nice and thick that she sometimes woke up sweaty, even when there was ice on her windows.
At home.
The thought squeezed Bethany’s ribs like a giant’s hands, the pain jolting her awake. She blinked her eyes open to darkness. No glow from the happy face nightlight her mama had plugged in by the door, no soft green numbers from her clock.
Bethany remembered now. This wasn’t a dream. Or even a nightmare.
She wasn’t with her real forever mama. The bad man had kidnapped her and trapped her in some icky old house.
Her tummy rumbled, reminding her that she’d gone to sleep hungry. Since the bad man always slept until after the sun came up, now might be the only chance she had to fix that.
The little room she slept in had two windows with wood nailed across them, so even in the middle of the day, it stayed gloomy and sad. Right now, there was no light at all peeking between the cracks in the boards. Bethany guessed it was still early morning.
Careful not to make the bed creak, she eased into a sitting position. She strained her ears, waiting for any noise from the hallway, and when none came, she relaxed a little and scratched her cheek.
Ouch!
The instant sting made her jerk her hand away and stuff her fingers into her mouth. Stupid windows. She’d forgotten that she’d cracked and torn her nails on those boards when she’d tried to claw them off yesterday. The wood hadn’t moved at all, but now her fingers hurt any time she pushed too hard.
Bethany shivered, and her eyes burned. She wanted to go home.
When her fingers stopped hurting so much, she pulled the scratchy blankets up higher and hugged her knees to her chest. She hated the blankets and the cheap, uncomfortable bed with the mattress that somehow felt harder than the floor. She hated the ouchie boards on the windows and the bad man who’d put them there.
The entire room smelled funny and old, like this ugly brown rocking chair one of her adoptive parents had kept in the living room. It had supposedly belonged to the woman’s grandfather, and her face had turned red when Bethany asked if he’d smelled bad too.
When Bethany complained to the bad man about those things, he just smiled his creepy smile and said the itchy blankets and hard bed were good for her. “Being too comfortable makes people complacent.”
She scowled into the darkness. She didn’t even know what complacent meant. Not that she was about to ask. Not him. Even when he smiled, he scared her because she didn’t think he was happy for the same reasons that most people were.
The first man who’d taken her had been scary, but she could tell he’d liked her sometimes too. But this man…
She didn’t think the bad man liked her at all, and when he talked about her mama, his face changed and his fingers stroked the knife in his pocket.
Bethany trembled and buried her face against her knees. “Where are you, Mama?” Her whisper was soft in the empty room, barely louder than a breath.
No answer
