Page 12 of Girl, Bound

Ella smirked, risingto the bait. ‘The victimology is all over the place. A corporate exec and a sexworker? What are the chances they're running in the same circles?’

She flipped throughthe crime scene photos, studying each one with a critical eye. The body bagswere pristine, no signs of struggle or violence marring their sleek surface.The victims inside were equally untouched, their faces peaceful in death.

‘Look at the way thebodies are positioned,’ Ella said, pointing to a close-up of the executive'sface. ‘Hands folded, eyes closed. It's almost reverent, like he's putting themto rest.’

Ripley leaned in,studying the photo. ‘You're right. It's not the work of a sadist or athrill-killer. This guy has a purpose, a reason for what he's doing.’

Ella nodded, her mindracing ahead. ‘Exactly. And the body bags, they're not just a convenient way todispose of the bodies. They're part of his ritual. They’re the element thatdoesn’t need to be there. Most killers would either leave the body where theydied or dump them somewhere isolated.’

‘But why?’ Ripleyasked, frustration creeping into her voice. ‘What's the point of leaving themlike that? Is he trying to send a message?’

‘Maybe. Or maybe thebags are symbolic, a way of sealing away the things he hates. Like he's puttingthem in a coffin, burying them forever.’

Ripley let out a lowwhistle, shaking her head. ‘A burial without the burial. The closest thing to aburial he can get without actually digging a grave.’

'It seems like a tonof extra work,’ Ella said. ‘He must have handled these body bags for agesbefore shutting the victims inside. Hauling them to the crime scene, splayingthem outside beside the body. It’s too much additional effort to not be acrucial part of his fantasy.’

They lapsed intosilence as Ella's mind circled back to the body bags, to the killer's strangeritual. There had to be a reason for it, a clue hidden in the details.

She flipped to theautopsy reports, scanning the pages for anything that might stand out. Theexecutive, Eric Saunders, looked to be in good health according to thecoroner’s initial assessment. No signs of drug use or disease. The unidentifiedsex worker, on the other hand, boasted track marks along her arms.

‘Exec looks clean as awhistle,’ Ella said, tapping the documents. ‘But look at these needle marks onour second vic. What if that’s our cause of death?’

Ripley sat back,clearly ruminating on the idea. ‘Hire a hooker, make her overdose, stuff herinto a body bag. If it’s true, it’s kind of smart, but it doesn’t fit thepattern. Victim one was killed in that parking lot for sure. No killer wouldrisk dragging a body bag to somewhere public like that. Even at night, he’drisk being spotted by cameras.’

Ella searched hermemory bank for any historical serial killers with similar M.Os. Countlessserial killers had targeted sex workers over the decades, but she couldn’tthink of a single one that forced them to overdose. Likewise, the only killershe’d ever known using body bags as part of their operation was Mexican serialkiller Juan Carlos Hernández in the 2010s.

‘Maybe he didn't forceher to overdose then. Maybe the heroin was a means to an end, a way to subdueher without a struggle.’

‘We won't know forsure until the coroner’s done the dirty work. These reports are just initialassessments. They still need to cut these guys open and dig deep.’

Ella glanced out thewindow, watching the clouds drift by. They were getting closer to Maine withevery passing minute, closer to the killer and the answers they so desperatelyneeded.

‘What about motive?’Ripley asked, breaking the silence. ‘What do you think is driving this guy?’

Ella sighed, rubbingher temples. ‘Could be anything. Revenge, hatred, some twisted sense ofjustice. Or maybe he's just a psychopath who gets off on playing God.’

‘You don't reallybelieve that,’ Ripley said. ‘I know you, Dark. You always see the human behindthe monster.’

Ella smiled, a sadlittle twist of her lips. ‘Maybe that's my problem. Maybe I'm too soft for thisjob.’

‘Lies,’ Ripley said.‘You never stop trying to understand. Even when the rest of the world haswritten someone off as a lost cause, you keep digging. I hate to say it, butyou're the second best agent I know, and you’ll be number one when I call it aday.’

Ella felt a rush ofaffection for her partner, a warmth that chased away the chill of the case.Ripley always had her back, always knew just what to say to pull her out of herown head.

‘Thanks, Mia. I don’tknow what I'll do without you.’

‘You’ll be fine. Now,caffeine up and focus because this maniac isn’t going to catch himself.’

Again, she thought ofLuca, of that mysterious stranger, of the promise of that coffee date. For amoment, she let herself imagine a different life, one where she wasn'tconstantly chasing shadows and battling her own demons. A life where she couldlet herself fall, let herself be caught.

But then sheremembered the last time she'd let her guard down, the last time she'd letherself believe in happily ever after. It had ended in blood and tears, in ahole in her heart that had seemed to expand by the day.

No, she couldn'tafford to go down that road again. Not now, not ever. She had a job to do, akiller to catch. Everything else would have to wait.

Ella took a deepbreath, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline that came with the start of anew case.

It was time to get towork.