Nowhere To Run
The crime scenes are horrifying: the victims arranged with deliberate care, posed to appear alive despite their agonized last moments and the shocking nature of their deaths.
No Place To Hide
Chattanooga grief counselor Audrey Sherrod moonlights for the local police. It’s clear to her, and to Special Agent J.D. Cass, that the murders are the work of a deranged serial killer. At first, the only link is the victims’ similar physical appearance. But then another connection emerges, tying them to a long-ago series of horrifying crimes Audrey hoped would never resurface—crimes that hit all too close to home.
No Time To Cry
Each grisly new discovery proves the past has not been forgotten, and the worst is yet to come. Audrey went looking for the truth and she’s about to find it…and it will be more twisted and more terrifying than she ever imagined…
Praise for the novels of Beverly Barton
“Masterful!” –Linda Howard, New York Times bestselling author on Cold Hearted
“A powerful story that kept me up very late—with all the lights on.”
--Kay Hooper, New York Times bestselling author on As Good as Dead
Thirty years ago
The Humpty-Dumpty night-light cast a soft, honey-white
glow over the nursery, from the 5' x 7' Mother Goose rug on
the wooden floor to the fluffy clouds painted on the ceiling.
A large Raggedy Andy doll, with a mop of red hair and a
perpetual smile, sat atop a brightly decorated toy box in the
corner. Billowy blue and white gingham curtains covered
the double windows that overlooked the backyard, and a
matching gingham quilt, neatly folded, lay at the foot of the
baby bed in the center of the small room.
Humming quietly, Regina Bennett sat in the white spindle
rocking chair, her precious little Cody asleep in her
arms. Even in sleep, he still clutched his favorite toy, a little
yellow teddy bear. Earlier that evening, he had been terribly
fussy, crying incessantly, the sound of his pitiful gulping
sobs breaking her heart. But after she had given him his
medication, he had gradually quieted and gone to sleep.
But for how long? An hour? Two hours? The medication’s
effects seemed to wear off more quickly with each passing
day. Eventually, the medication wouldn’t ease his pain.
She brushed aside his damp blond curls, leaned down,
and kissed his warm forehead. Before the chemotherapy
treatments, his hair had been thick and shiny, but the new
growth was thin and dull. “You won’t suffer anymore, my
precious darling. Mommy promises.”
Rocking back and forth, she cuddled Cody protectively
against her breast. Still humming “Hush Little Baby,” an old
Southern lullaby, Regina slid her hand down to the side of
the rocker and grasped the small pillow she had placed there
earlier that evening.
“Mommy loves her little boy. Mommy’s going to do
what’s best for you.”
Regina lifted the pillow off the floor.
Tears misting her eyes.
“Hush, little baby, don’t you cry.”
Regina laid the handmade pillow over her son’s nose and
mouth. Tears seeped from the corners of her eyes and cascaded
down either side of her face. She pressed her hand in
the center of the pillow and held it in place until she was certain
Cody was at peace. She lifted the pillow, tossed it aside,
and looked at her tiny two-year-old son.
No more pain. No more suffering.