Page 40 of Girl, Bound

Ella turned to Ripley.No words needed. Just a look that asked if she was ready to raise some hell.

Ripley answered with anod, already reaching for the gun on her hip.

‘Let’s hit the stripjoint,’ Ella said.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Outside, the night air hit Ella like aslap to the face, cold and sharp as a razor blade. She sucked in a lungful,feeling it burn all the way down to her gut. The moon hung low and bloated inthe sky, a sickly yellow that cast everything in a jaundiced light. It was thekind of night that bred bad decisions and worse outcomes, where the linebetween cop and criminal blurred into nothing.

Ella slid behind the wheel of her car,Ripley riding shotgun. The engine growled to life. She caught a glimpse ofherself in the rearview mirror, all sharp angles and hard edges, a woman on amission with fire in her eyes and ice in her veins.

Ella punched the gas, the tiresscreeching against the pavement as the car leapt forward like a beastunchained. They hurtled into the night, chasing the glimmer of neon on thehorizon.

‘This is all messed up,’ Ripley said.

‘It’s really, really common,’ Ellasaid. ‘Gerard Schaefer, John Christie, Christopher Dorner, even the GoldenState Killer. All cops that doubled as serial murderers.’

Beside her, Ripley wasa coiled spring, tension thrumming through her body like an electric current.Ella could practically hear the gears turning in her head, the wheels ofjustice spinning faster and faster as they closed in on their prey.

Ella’s grip tightenedon the steering wheel, bleaching her knuckles white. She welcomed the pain, thebite of the leather against her skin. It kept her grounded, focused on the taskat hand. There could be no distractions, no room for error. Not when the stakeswere this high and the enemy was one of their own.

‘Last time you went toa strip club?’ Ripley asked.

‘I went with you.Once.’

‘Did you?’

‘We chased some guythrough one. One of our first cases together.’

‘Memories,’ Ripleysaid. ‘I thought Holbrook said this wasn’t a party town.’

‘Guess he was talkingout of his ass.’

‘Most likely. What’sour play here?’

The GPS said they weretwo miles from their location. Ella watched the numbers count down as she spedlate-night Millhaven, traffic laws be damned.

‘I was thinking aboutgetting a dance. What do you think?’

‘Funny. I mean, wecan’t just drag this guy out. He’s a cop. If we’re wrong about this, we couldlook really, really bad.’

Ella shot her a wrysmile. ‘Since when have you cared about looking bad?’

‘Fair enough.’

‘I say we find him,question him. Simple as that.’

‘You know what thisguy looks like?’ asked Ripley.

‘Yeah, there were somepictures on his file. He was the guy guarding the perimeter down in Blue Alley.Stocky, buzz cut, hairy arms.’

‘Oh, him. Yeah, I knowthe guy.’

A minute later, LegsEleven loomed ahead. A seedy oasis rising up out of the desert of despair. Itsneon sign flickered and buzzed, a siren song luring in the lost and the damnedwith promises of cheap thrills and cheaper booze.

‘Welcome to paradise,’Ella said. The parking lot was a sea of beat-up trucks and rusted-out musclecars. No doubt a veritable who's who of the area’s underbelly.

Ripley checked herammunition levels. ‘Looks a treat.’

---