The Nobody Girls (Kendra Dillon Cold Case Thriller Book 3), Rebecca Rane [best book club books of all time txt] 📗

That was all before the decades in prison had wizened away his youth.

The man who walked into the interview space now was forty years past that wiry tire iron strength.

Ned Wayne Ewald looked Kendra in the eye and then up and down. She tried not to flinch or show fear. She didn’t know the right way to approach their interview. She would have to play it by ear. She’d have to get a sense of him as she asked her questions.

She started out with honesty.

“I’m grateful that you agreed to do this. I didn’t have a lot of hope.”

He pursed his lips and bit the inside of his cheek. He said nothing.

Kendra moved on.

“What was your conviction for?”

“They claimed I murdered a federal employee in the commission of a robbery. Claimed I hit him over a dozen times with a bat, on his stupid skull.”

Kendra didn’t blink, but she swallowed hard.

“Did you?”

“Might of.”

One of his eyes was droopier than the other. She focused on the one that didn’t droop. But the drooping eye made him look skeptical of her, which he probably was.

She dove into the deep end.

“The FBI believes you murdered at least eight women, from 1978 to 1982, while working along I-75 as a long haul truck driver.”

“I’ve heard that story before.”

“Did you murder eight women?”

“That one I’m in for? Rape, ha, yeah, she’s not dead, or wasn’t back in 1982. She ain’t on your list. She lived to tell about me, didn’t she?” Agent Price had said Ewald’s history of violence against women contributed to the FBI’s belief that he was culpable in the muders.

“That assault, and your murder charge indicate you are likely the one who killed these women,” Kendra said.

“No. No I did not. Just as I told the FBI, the state boys, the highway patrol, and the six million dollar man, anyone who asked.”

“But you can’t prove that you didn’t.”

“They can’t prove that I did.”

“But you’re in here. They proved the other charges.”

“I’m going to tell it to you straight. I bashed that guy’s brains in. I beat the shit out of him and then kept going, even after I knew I’d proved my point. I wanted him so dead his mother would be crying in hell.”

Kendra took it in, held his gaze, and then started again.

“Did you kill Linda Kay Ellis? She was wearing bell-bottoms and might have been hitchhiking or hanging out at the truck stop you were known to frequent.”

“Probably a real sweet piece of ass, eh? Not now, though. Old, old, old now, if she was alive. But no, I didn’t kill her.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“You want to be the big hero, don’t you, solve the case and save the day? You can only do that if I’m not in prison. If the bad guy is already in here, what ya got?”

“I think we have closure for the families.”

“Closure, that’s a fancy thing. Oprah kind of word, right? From what I heard, those bitches didn’t have families, and there ain’t nothing closed about ‘em.” Ewald laughed at his own crude joke.

“So, why talk to me?”

“I don’t know, bored. I like pretty little things. That’s you, for sure. Oh, also, because I have told anyone who asked, every time they asked, since they asked me the first time, that I didn’t kill those women.”

“You’re sticking with that, even though your routes and your incarceration line up perfectly?”

“I shot the sheriff, but I did not shoot the deputy.” He laughed again at his own joke.

And Kendra’s sense was that she was sitting in front of a cruel, crude, and—in his prime—strong, ruthless hater of women. One who admitted to killing. Just not killing the women she’d listed. Kendra could very well believe that he had murdered again and again.

But there wasn’t conclusive proof. That, and the electronic lock of the door behind her when she left Ewald, haunted her as she walked out of prison.

She had the interview. She’d been in front of the man who authorities say was likely responsible for killing eight women.

But she didn’t have a confession or one more shred of proof.

Chapter 20

It was dark on Kendra’s way back to Port Lawrence. Ewald’s eyes, more than his words, stayed with her. He certainly looked like a man who could kill you, would want to. The authorities were sure of it, enough so that they thought the case closed.

The problem was evidence. Evidence like DNA would be one thing, but what about a fragment of clothing or a token of his conquests? Ewald didn’t have anything in his possession upon his arrest to show that he was indeed the monster that snuffed the life out of Linda Kay or Sincere. Maybe she’d never get that. The authorities were satisfied they had the right guy. But at the very least, Shoop and Kendra would make sure they double-checked everything they could.

There weren’t many other cars on this stretch of road. Kendra noticed one set of headlights in the distance, but otherwise, it was just her.

Kendra mulled over the interview. If the evidence they double-checked synced with what Agent Price gave them, that was it.

In terms of fulfilling the mission of The Cold Trail, the way forward continued to be making the victims real people. That was still possible.

The headlights behind her got closer.

The driver back there was in a major hurry. Fine. Though, at this hour, where could anyone possibly need to be in such a rush?

She slowed down a little so the car behind her could get by. There were two lanes, and this wasn’t a race, for Pete’s sake.

After serial killers and child molesters, tailgaters were her least favorite humans on the planet. This jerk didn’t get the message, and instead, the car behind her flipped on their bright headlight beams. Kendra squinted as the light hit her rearview mirror. She adjusted it so the beams didn’t blind her. The driver sharing the highway with her continued to be