“The ten women the Head Hunter butchered. What were their names?”
Josh’s face reddened, but he didn’t hesitate. “You got me. I guess I’m better at giving names than I am at remembering them.”
“But I bet you could tell me where all the heads were found, couldn’t you? You probably have a whole file filled with pictures.”
This time, the answer didn’t just slip off his tongue. “I assure you that all the victims were named on the podcast,” Josh said.
“Then maybe you should go back and listen to it.” Jo could feel her arms throbbing with energy. “I need to finish my run.”
She sped past the gawkers, eager to leave them all in her dust. Fueled by fury, she could have kept going forever, but the gate to Culling Pointe appeared before her, its tall metal slats reaching up toward the sky. While there was nothing but sand and scrub on Jo’s side of the fence, the drive that stretched out in front of her was lushly landscaped. The Pointe’s beachfront mansions remained hidden from view. It occurred to Jo that she’d never actually seen them up close. There were plenty of pictures to be found online, and anyone with a boat could admire them from offshore. But Culling Pointe’s gate had never once opened to let Jo through. The chop of a helicopter drew her eyes to the sky. She watched the craft descend from the clouds and fly alongside her, its landing skids almost skimming the waves. Then it passed over the Pointe and vanished out of sight.
Watching Jo run toward the gate were two uniformed men in an air-conditioned guardhouse. As she got closer, one of them stepped outside to meet her at the gate. It seemed unnecessary. She wasn’t able to burst through iron. Yet.
But he didn’t try to shoo her away. Instead, he reached through the gate’s slats and handed her a bottle of water.
“You run all the way from town?” he asked as she opened the bottle and gulped down its contents.
“Thanks,” she panted. “And yeah, I did.”
“All those vultures still down by the beach?”
“Yep,” she said.
The guard shook his head, his lip curled with disgust. “I saw them on my drive in, just waiting around for the sun to come up. What kind of people take selfies at the site of a body drop?”
“Assholes,” she said. The guard laughed, giving Jo the green light to keep going. “You guys see anything weird down here over the past few weeks?”
The guard held up a finger, then gestured to the earpiece he wore. He was receiving a message. “Sorry, ma’am,” he said when he’d finished listening. “Would you mind stepping to the side for a moment? I’ve just been informed that a resident is arriving.”
While the gate opened, Jo watched a black speck in the distance rapidly grow into an enormous black SUV. By the time it arrived, the gate was wide-open. The vehicle came to a brief stop while the guard checked the driver’s ID. The back window was down, and Jo saw Rosamund Harding sitting inside. Jo lifted a hand in greeting, but Rosamund stared straight through her. It wasn’t a snub—Jo was sure of it. Rosamund’s eyes looked flat and glassy. A second later, the SUV sped away, and the gate closed.
“Thanks,” the guard said.
“The lady in the back seat,” Jo said. “She’s a client of mine. I’ve been a bit worried about her. Does she live out here?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am.” The guard looked back over his shoulder at his colleague. “I’m not at liberty to discuss any of our residents.”
That was all she was going to get from him. The guard didn’t give a damn about Rosamund Harding. His job was to protect Culling Pointe.
“Thanks for the water,” Jo said. Then she turned her back and ran for town.