All the Pretty Faces Read Free Page A

. . .”
    “Don’t you think this is sensationalism?” Sara Levinson shouted.
    Josie swallowed hard. “I’m sorry it if appears that way, but marketing was in charge of the copy. The goal is for people to read the story and understand the truth.”
    “He used a Taser?” one of the reporters interjected.
    “Yes,” she said, grateful for the diversion, “Billy subdued them with a Taser, tied them up, and kept them at his house.”
    She fought revulsion at the memory. God, she’d been so gullible.
    She’d felt sorry for Billy that day at the church.
    She hadn’t seen beneath the surface. Hadn’t seen that Taser coming . . .
    He’d misread her compassion as a sign that she’d make the perfect wife for him. In his mind, that meant she’d obey him, cook for him, take care of his mother, and service him when he wanted.
    The reporter moved closer to her. “Miss DuKane, you wrote that Mr. Linder was looking for a bride. Why was he obsessed with finding a wife?”
    Getting into Billy’s mind-set had helped her cope before. It would help her now. She would just stick to the facts. “His mother’s illness triggered him to start killing. He wanted to marry before she died, because he was afraid of being alone. Once he subdued his victims, he took them to his house and forced them to pass tests proving they were worthy of being his wife.”
    “What kind of tests?” one reporter asked.
    Determined to maintain control, she clenched the podium to keep her hands from trembling. “I describe more about that in the book,” she said, grateful her voice didn’t falter. “Essentially, though, his tests consisted of basic chores like cooking and cleaning. Being . . . obedient.” She’d played into that, pretended she wanted to take care of him, offered to pour his mama tea, to make biscuits and gravy for them.
    She couldn’t even think about a pan of gravy now without it turning her stomach.
    She cleared her throat. “Billy’s mother, Charlene, was abused by her father, and she repeated the cycle by abusing her son. Billy’s bedtime stories consisted of tales about the teenagers she’d killed and left at the base of the waterfalls. She referred to the victims as little liars .”
    Another reporter waved her hand. “Why did she call them that?”
    Josie blinked as the flash of a camera nearly blinded her. The sky was darkening from the threatening storm, the trees shaking with its force. “Charlene was disturbed and didn’t fit in with the other teenagers. Her victims were popular cheerleaders who shunned her. According to her journals, she saw them as Goody Two-shoes who lied about being virgins. Apparently the three victims had made a pact to sleep with Johnny Pike, and she was jealous because he paid attention to them and not her.”
    “The girls she killed bullied her, didn’t they?” another reporter shouted.
    Josie bit her tongue. This was a touchy subject. She certainly didn’t want to imply that the teenage victims had done something to bring their deaths upon themselves. Their parents and loved ones didn’t want to hear the girls disparaged. “I wasn’t there, so it’s hard for me to say they bullied her. According to teachers, Charlene was quiet, withdrawn, an awkward girl who didn’t make friends easily. She was obviously affected by her father’s abuse.”
    Sara Levinson crossed her arms. “So you’re saying she was a victim?”
    Josie hesitated, surprised at Sara’s vehemence.
    “She was a victim of abuse,” Josie said. “I’m not defending her actions, though, or the pain she inflicted on the families in this town. I’m simply explaining the circumstances.” She gave Sara a sympathetic look. “I completely understand how trauma like that can affect families. It’s not fair and nothing can change what happened, but maybe if we understand how and why Charlene and Billy resorted to such violence, we can accept it and move on.”
    A male reporter in the shadows raised a hand to