Page 29 of Girl, Bound

Ripley looked up ather, a flicker of something like hope in her eyes. ‘You’re right, you’re right.We always do.’

‘We’ve caught worse,’Ella said simply.

They shared a moment,then Ripley pulled away, squaring her shoulders as she reached for the stack offiles on her desk. ‘Alright. Enough moping. What's our next move?’

Ella took a deepbreath. ‘We need to dig deeper into the victims' backgrounds. See if we canfind any connection between them, any reason why they might have beentargeted.’

‘Besides beingscumbags who pissed off the wrong people?’ Ripley asked, a hint of her usualsnark creeping back into her voice. ‘Besides, we already did that. We checkedEric and Kara out six ways to Sunday.’

Ella shot her a look.‘There's gotta be more to it than that. This unsub, he's not just killing atrandom. He's choosing his victims for a reason. We just have to figure out whatthat reason is.’

‘Alright, you’re theboss,’ Ripley said, flipping open the first file. ‘Let's get to work.’

They dug in, poringover every scrap of information they had on the victims. Financial records,phone logs, social media posts. Anything that might give them a clue, a lead tofollow.

But as the hoursticked by and the coffee grew cold in their cups, Ella could feel thefrustration mounting. The pieces were there, she was sure of it. But theystubbornly refused to fit together, the picture remaining maddeningly out offocus.

She was just about tosuggest they take a break, maybe grab some food and clear their heads, when aknock at the door made them both look up.

Holbrook burst intothe office, his face a thundercloud of grim tidings. Ella's stomach sank, aleaden weight of dread settling in her gut. She knew that look, had seen it toomany times in her career. The bearer of bad news, the harbinger of shattered hopes.

‘Sit tight, folks,’Holbrook said, his voice gruff with weariness. ‘I've got some news, and itain't the good kind.’

Ripley glanced atElla, a silent question in her eyes. But Ella just shook her head, resignationalready seeping into her bones. She didn't need to hear the words to know whatwas coming. The pieces had already fallen into place, a cruel jigsaw of disappointmentand dead ends.

‘Let me guess,’ shesaid, her voice flat. ‘LaPlante's alibi checked out.’

Holbrook nodded,sinking into a chair. ‘Tech boys confirmed it. His computer was active duringthe time of both murders. Browser history shows he was streaming movies,browsing social media. He wasn't anywhere near the crime scenes.’

Ella closed her eyes, frustrationboiling up inside her like a geyser. She wanted to scream, to put her fistthrough the wall, to let the rage and the helplessness consume her until therewas nothing left but ashes.

But she couldn't. Shewas an FBI agent, a professional. She had to keep it together, had to stayfocused on the task at hand. Even when every lead turned to dust in her hands,even when the answers she sought remained maddeningly out of reach.

‘Damn it,’ shemuttered, scrubbing a hand over her face. ‘I should have known. Should havetrusted my gut.’

Holbrook frowned.‘What do you mean?’

Ella shook her head, amirthless chuckle escaping her lips. ‘LaPlante. He wasn't our guy. I could feelit, even when we found those body bags. He was too raw, too genuine. A realkiller, a monster like the one we're chasing? They don't break that easily.They don't spill their guts at the first sign of pressure.’

Ripley added, ‘She’sright, Sheriff. If LaPlante was our guy, he’d have at least put on an act. Amission-oriented offender with a compulsion to suffocate people wouldn’tconfess, not until he knew his game was up.’

‘But the evidence...’Holbrook started, but Ella cut him off with a sharp gesture.

‘The evidence wascircumstantial at best. We got caught up in the thrill of the hunt, in the ideathat we finally had a suspect in our sights. But we were wrong. The only thingLaPlante is guilty of is selling hot property on the black market.’

Ripley leaned forward,her elbows resting on her knees. ‘So where does that leave us? Back to squareone?’

‘We may have beenbarking up the wrong tree with LaPlante, but that doesn't mean the rest of ourleads are worthless. We still have the body bags, still have the connection toSeraphic Labs. We just need to dig deeper, find the thread that ties it all together.’

Holbrook cleared histhroat, a hint of hesitation creeping in. ‘About those body bags. We got thereceipts from LaPlante's online sales. Turns out he sold two of them in thelast month.’

Ella's head snappedup, a flicker of hope sparking in her chest. ‘To who? Local buyers?’

But Holbrook’sexpression said it all. ‘Wish I could say yes. But no, these sales were longdistance. One went to New York, the other to California. No way they could beour killer.’

Ella slumped back inher chair, the brief flare of excitement snuffed out like a candle in the wind.Another dead end, another false lead.

‘What about in-personsales?’ Ripley asked.

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