Page 37 of Girl, Bound

Ella slipped back intoher office, shutting the door behind her. Ripley looked up, a question in hereyes.

‘Barber’s off for twomore days. He was here today but checked out.’

‘Two days. Enough timeto bag another body.’

‘Right? We need tofind him.’

Ripley turned andgestured towards Ella’s laptop. ‘He’s got an address, hasn’t he? Maybe weshould pay Dr. Jekyll a visit.’

Ella went back to thedata, scoured through it until she found Barber’s address. ‘Got him. MaplewoodAvenue.’ She checked her gun and ammunition levels. ‘You stay back here.’

‘You sure?’

‘If we’re both out,Holbrook might get suspicious.’

‘True. Be safe. Anyproblems, ping me immediately.’

They had a narrowwindow, a ticking clock counting down to disaster.

Time to find outexactly what was going on here.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Ella eased her car toa stop, the engine ticking as it cooled in the evening air. She stared at thehouse before her, a well-maintained two-story with a manicured lawn and afreshly painted fence. The picture of suburban normalcy.

She sat there for amoment, gathering her thoughts like a gambler shuffling a loaded deck. PatrickBarber was no ordinary suspect - he was a cop, a man with the force of the lawbehind him. She'd have to play this smart, choose her words with the precisionof a surgeon's blade.

Ella stepped out, thegravel crunching under her boots like bones snapping. She sauntered up to thefront door, a wolf in Fed's clothing, and pounded on the wood like she wasserving a subpoena to the Devil himself.

Nothing.

She gave the dooranother whack, hard enough to wake the dead. Still no answer.

She spun around, hergaze landing on Barber's red motor gleaming under the streetlights. A sweetlittle sedan that practically screamed that he was compensating for something.

No response.

Either Barber wasn'thome, or he was giving her the silent treatment.

For a split second,Ella considered going full Rambo - kicking down the door, guns blazing. But shereigned in that impulse, her training slapping some sense into her. She had tokeep this squeaky clean, dot every i and cross every t. Couldn'tgive Barber any wiggle room, any chance to slip the noose.

She whipped out herphone, punching in Ripley's digits like she was calling in a nuclear strike.Her partner picked up on the second ring.

‘Dark, what’s thescore?’

‘Barber's pulled aHoudini,’ Ella growled, cutting straight to the chase. ‘House is dark, wheelsare on the driveway. I could stake him out, but...’

‘But Jekyll might beout there hunting his next whale,’ Ripley finished, reading her mind like adime store psychic.

Ella grunted, thesound as grim as a eulogy. ‘What's the word on your end?’

A pause, the sound ofmuffled voices in the background. Then, Ripley's voice dropped to aconspiratorial whisper, like she was spilling state secrets. ‘I'm getting somefunny looks over here. Sideways glances, conversations that stop when I walk inthe room. They know something's up.’

Ella's grip tightenedon the phone, knuckles popping like firecrackers. The clock was ticking, thewalls closing in.

Time to go for broke.

‘Then we’ve got noother choice,’ she snarled. ‘We're opening Pandora's Box. Get the gangtogether, it's time for a come-to-Jesus meeting.’

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