Page 31 of Girl, Bound

No, there would be noinconvenient interruptions, no would-be heroes to forestall the inevitable.

His quarry turned acorner, vanishing momentarily from view. He pressed the gas a little harder, afrisson of dread jolting through him at the thought of losing his prize. But ashe rounded the bend, he caught a glimpse of the man's profile in the gutteringlight of a solitary streetlamp. He was checking the cracked display of hisphone, oblivious to the gathering gloom, to the fate that nipped at his heels.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

‘Rebirth?’ Ripleyasked. ‘What are you yapping about?’

The theory run rampantin Ella’s head, the words cramping up on her lips. She wasn’t sure where tostart.

LaPlante had said he came back toMillhaven to erase his past, to start over with a clean slate. He had a historyhe was ashamed of, a trail of violence and brutality that he wanted to leavebehind. Just like a snake shedding its skin, he had come to this town in searchof rebirth.

And that had given Ella food forthought.

What were body bags,if not a kind of cocoon?

A dark and suffocatingwomb from which the victim might emerge, transformed into something new?Something better, in the killer's twisted estimation?

Eric Saunders and KaraMurphy, for all their differences, must have had something in common. Somesecret shame, some hidden darkness that the killer had latched onto. A historythey were desperate to escape.

And what better way togrant them that escape than through the ultimate transformation? To take theirbroken, imperfect lives and mold them into something new, something pure anduntainted?

‘The body bags.They’re not just suffocation chambers. Why would our unsub risk leaving themalive? If he wanted to kill them, there are a hundred other ways to do it.’

Ripley sat back, armscrossed. Her classic convince me pose. ‘It’s a stretch, woman,’ shesaid.

Holbrook chimed in,‘Couldn’t he just be a sick freak who likes to see his victims struggle?’

‘In a body bag?’ Ellaasks. ‘Sadists need to see their victims in all their glory. They want to seethe agony on their faces. Our guy hides their suffering behind a curtain, sohe’s not getting off to their suffering. The bags mean something else.’

‘Right, but it stilldoesn’t make sense to me,’ said Ripley.

Ella got up andspilled her theory to their whiteboard. She attacked it in a frenzy.

'Our victims bothhave, for want of a better word, unsavoury jobs. Sex worker, pharma exec. Bothare looked down on for different reasons. In a small town like this?' Sheturned to Holbrook. 'No offence, Sheriff, but I'm guessing a lot of peoplearound here are stuck in their ways. Plenty of don't-trust-the-French types.'

Holbrook’s expressionfirst said he was offended, but then he nodded. ‘True enough. But how does thathelp us catch this freak?’

Ella capped her markerpen. ‘It means we need to find exactly what our victims are trying to hide.’

‘We’ve already scouredtheir records to the bone,’ said Ripley. ‘If Saunders or Murphy had doneanything wrong, then we’d know about it.’

‘That's because weweren't looking in the right places,’ Ella said, her mind already racing ahead.‘We were focused on the obvious stuff, the criminal records and the shadyconnections. But this killer, he's not interested in that. He's looking forsomething deeper, something more personal.’

‘Like?’

‘Shame. Regret. Thethings we bury deep down inside and hope no one ever finds out about. That'swhat he's after. And that's what we need to look for.’

‘Alright. We’re allears if you know a way of doing that. Outside of psychic ability.’

Ella grabbed herjacket and car keys.

‘Don’t need psychicability.’

‘It might help.’

‘If you anticipate thehuman mind, it leaves nothing to chance.’

Ripley glanced at theclock. 'It's eight o'clock. Where are you headed?'

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