The Hunted Girls by Jenna Kernan (best book club books for discussion txt) 📕

They followed Tolan’s route to the trailhead for the Yearling.

Nadine stared at the gap in the split-rail fence and the hollow in the undergrowth marking the path.

“Do you think this is named for the book?” she asked, staring up at the wooden sign that marked the start of a five-mile loop.

“What book?”

“The Yearling by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings?”

Demko shook his head. “No clue.”

He collected two water bottles from the cooler in the rear section and shoved one in the back pocket on each side of his khakis.

“You haven’t read it?”

“No. You have?”

“Yes, of course. It’s about a young boy who nurses a fawn. Mandatory reading in school.”

She paused to stare across the lot and onto the sandy patch that disappeared through the pines and live oaks.

Together they exited the vehicle and walked toward the trail.

“The FBI has already been all over her route,” he said.

“I know. I just want to get a feel for the place. GPS coordinates can only take me so far.” She paused at sighting the yellow crime scene tape strung across the trail, surprised at this reminder of the initial abduction.

“Haven’t they cleared the scene yet?” she asked.

“I would have thought so.”

“They should have, because they didn’t find anything.”

He snorted. “But since Skogen has decided to withhold evidence, it’s impossible to say.”

“Thank you for defending me.”

She squared her shoulders, preparing to follow Linda Tolan’s route.

He laced his fingers with hers. Together they ducked under the yellow tape and walked into the forest.

“You tell me when you’d like to turn around,” he said.

She nodded as they strolled side by side in the dappled sunlight. The temperature beneath the canopy of trees was a good ten degrees cooler than out in the sunshine. There was a dampness to the ground and the musty smell of rotting things. It did not take long for the bugs to find them. Demko offered her the spray.

“How would this look at five-thirty in the morning?” she asked.

“Predawn. Dark.”

“Would she carry a flashlight?”

“She might.”

“That would make her easier to spot.” She scanned the treetops. “Early morning is the best time to spot animals, isn’t it?”

“Birds, anyway.”

“Summer tanager,” said Nadine.

They continued on as she pictured Linda, carrying her photographic equipment. Holding a light, fiddling with the camera as she listened for the bird song, looking at the lacework of branches. What did that songbird sound like?

Nadine heard many birds but could not tell one from another. Tolan could have.

He nodded and then looked back on the trail, again. He had stopped more than once to scan behind them.

The breeze picked up, blowing sand into her eyes. She knew the signs. They were in for a thunderstorm. The trees made it difficult to see the sky, hard to know where the clouds were building into thunderheads, but the wind told her it came from the east.

“Better turn back,” she said.

On the return, Demko did not hold her hand and stayed slightly ahead of her.

She was looking at the sky when Demko grasped her hand and drew her off the trail.

“What’s—”

He lifted a finger to his lips.

She flattened against the tree trunk, suddenly terrified. Demko’s hand went to his pistol and he rocked the weapon from its holster, bringing it up before him. The gesture did not reassure.

“Someone’s following us,” he said softly.

“A hiker?” she suggested, clutching at the safest explanation.

He shook his head. “Trail’s closed.”

She listened but heard nothing.

“He moved off the trail when we got near. Hiding over there.” He gestured with his chin.

“You can’t shoot someone for hiding.”

He snorted. “We’ll see.”

She tugged his sleeve, silently imploring him to stay.

He glanced down at her. “Stay here.”

In a moment he was gone, running in a semicircle across the trail and out of sight.

The sharp bark of Demko’s voice made Nadine jump.

“Police! Hands where I can see them. Now!”

She heard a muffled reply but could make out nothing of what the person he was shouting at was saying.

“On the ground. Hands out to the sides. Do it!”

Nadine peeked out from behind the tree. From her vantage she could see Demko standing, gun held in two hands and pointed at the back of a man’s head. His target sprawled before him on the ground. There was something large and black in his right hand. It looked like the kind of automatic weapon she had seen during her FBI training.

She crept forward and heard Demko instructing him to sit up.

“Who are you?” he asked.

As she inched closer, she saw that the object beside the man was something more dangerous than an automatic weapon. It was a camera with a giant zoom lens.

She’d looked into a lens like that before. Twice, actually. Once after her mother’s arrest and throughout her trial. The second time was a year and a half ago when the media discovered who she was and that she was profiling the copycat killer while sleeping with the lead detective, Demko. Sweat beaded on her upper lip. Her heart pounded in her throat.

The man retrieved his wallet from his front pocket. The ball cap on his head and the lowered tilt of his chin kept her from seeing his face, but she did see the flaxen ponytail thrusting from the gap in the back of the hat. He wore tan and olive-green clothing that seemed designed to allow him to disappear into the landscape.

Demko accepted the offered ID before beginning a string of profanities. He glanced in her direction holding the credential so she could see it read PRESS. Her stomach dropped.

If this fellow knew who they were, it would certainly end up in the papers.

“Why are you following us?” asked Demko.

“FBI press release said that we have a serial killer stalking the hiking trails in the Ocala Forest.”

“You thought I was the killer?” asked Demko.

The man shifted uncomfortably in the leafy debris.

“You’re a cop. I know a cop car when I see one. Figured you to have something to do with the case so… What’s your name, Officer?”

“You tell me. You’re the reporter.”

Nadine had reached