Free All the Pretty Faces by Rita Herron Page A

had witnessed something, memories grew foggy with time.
    Although occasionally guilt set in, and a witness who’d initially remained quiet came forward to clear his or her conscience.
    He prayed that would happen with Betsy’s case. He needed a break, dammit.
    Determined to tackle it again, he reviewed the other notes. According to interviews with Betsy’s friends at school and the director of the ranch where she’d volunteered, she hadn’t been dating anyone. She had no ex-boyfriends; no one was angry with her.
    Everyone loved her.
    Except for the person who’d killed her.
    One detective had theorized that Betsy had an affair with a married man, and that perhaps the wife found out and killed her. That suggestion was ludicrous.
    Betsy would never sleep with a married man. She was the most morally conscious young girl he’d ever known.
    The idea of a stalker had been tossed around, but they’d found no evidence suggesting one. No notes on her calendar, nothing in her mail, no repeated phone calls from the same number that looked suspicious.
    Which put him back to where the case had ended—she’d met someone at the party who’d enticed her to leave with him. Or she’d seen someone she knew and trusted.
    Someone who’d gotten away with murder.
    The MO had to be significant. The unsub who’d killed Betsy took the silver ID bracelet their father had given her.
    This killer had taken the woman’s clothes, but as far as he knew, no jewelry.
    Although he had taken a piece of bone.
    If it was the same killer, had he evolved to the point he needed an even more sinister and personal trophy for himself?

    Dr. Silas Grimley carefully examined his face in the mirror, one finger running over his skin to make sure the imperfections were hidden.
    His face was smooth. Skin clear. Eyebrows neatly trimmed. Eyes focused.
    Scars invisible to the naked eye.
    He was handsome.
    His looks wouldn’t last. Soon he would be showing signs. Soon he would have to hide his flaws again.
    His hand trembled.
    God dammit. It wasn’t fair. He’d worked too hard to get where he was to have to give up his career. He’d been so driven that he’d vaulted to the top of his profession faster than anyone expected.
    Now he was going to lose it all. His weaknesses would be evident, just like the scars he’d once carried.
    His patients, the women who admired him, would run.
    Cursing the fates, he slammed his fist against the mirror and watched it crack. Blood dotted his hand, but he didn’t care.
    He walked to the window and looked outside. The rain that had pounded the earth earlier grew lighter, more distant, the moon battling through the clouds to weave a faint stream of light across the sharp cliffs behind the cabins.
    Night was setting in Graveyard Falls.
    He had places to go.
    He slipped a sport coat on over his neat blue button-down shirt, then carefully combed his hair into place.
    The reflection staring back at him looked grotesque in the shattered mirror.
    A preview of the real Silas? Of what he had once been?
    Because once he had been hideous. Unable to bear the cruelty of others, he’d hidden himself from the laughing faces and ugly remarks.
    Then one day some selfless soul had saved him. For a little while he’d basked in the light of knowing what it was like to be one of them . The beautifuls.
    Just like the models and actresses.
    Just like that damn doll.
    Shoulders tense, he headed outside.
    The thick forests and trees shrouded in clouds cast an ominous gray that looked like a heavy fog across the land.
    Yet in the midst of the miles of wilderness and sharp ridges, great beauty abounded. Natural beauty.
    Not like the plastics who had flocked to town. Young women with their heavy makeup, implants, thousand-dollar skin treatments, and expensive wardrobes, all dying to be in front of the camera.
    Products of his work. He made them pretty.
    I can make you anything you want to be , he told them.
    And he did.
    A dark chuckle rumbled from