Page 45 of Girl, Bound

‘So maybe we've gotthe wrong guy. Wouldn't be the first time the evidence pointed us in the wrongdirection.’

‘Are you serious?’Holbrook said. ‘You drag Barber in here and now you’re saying you doubt he’sguilty?’

‘Would you rather wewait until another body appeared before we questioned him?’ Ella said. ‘When wecornered him, the guy gave us every reason to think he was guilty.’

‘Ridiculous,’ Holbrooksaid.

Ella was about torespond, to voice the nagging doubts that were eating away at her gut like acancer, but Holbrook’s phone rang and jolted her back to the moment. Thesheriff snatched it up, his eyes never leaving Ella's face as he barked a tersegreeting into the receiver. He backed away, leaving Ella and Ripley alone.

‘I don’t know, Dark,’Ripley said. ‘We still need to question this guy.’

'Yeah, we do. I don'tknow how we're going to get him to break. We're on his turf. He's going tostonewall the hell out of us.'

Suddenly, Holbrookrushed back, phone still clutched to his ear. He pulled it away and shouted,‘You two. Get to the car. Quickly.’

Ella felt a sinkingsensation in the pit of her stomach, a cold, queasy feeling that she knew alltoo well. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘You both screwed upbig time. We’ve got another body. But this one’s still alive.’

Ella felt like abattering ram had collided with her ribs. Her lungs emptied themselves of air,heart anchoring to the pit of her stomach.

‘Alive?’

‘Alive,’ Holbrooksaid. ‘Alleyway behind Walther Avenue. Let’s go.’

She whipped around tostare at Barber, her mind racing like a hamster on a wheel. If there wasanother victim out there, if the Body Bag Killer had struck again while theywere busy chasing their tails, then they had the wrong man.

Barber was innocent,just like he'd been claiming all along. And they'd wasted precious time andresources on a wild goose chase while the real killer slipped through theirfingers like smoke.

And in the process,they’d managed to turn Millhaven’s police force against them.

She flew down thehallway with Ripley behind her. An alive victim. It was the break they'd beenwaiting for, the piece of the puzzle that could blow this whole case wide open.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

The gas pedal was anold friend, welded to the floor as Ella tore through the streets of Millhaven.Traffic laws were for chumps and civilians, she told herself. She had a datewith a killer's leftovers, and she'd be damned if she was gonna be late to theparty.

Beside her, Ripley wasa study in controlled chaos, one hand braced against the dashboard, the otherhovering near her piece like a gunslinger ready to draw. ‘Jesus, Dark,’ shebarked, ‘Where'd you learn to drive?’

Ella just flashed hera mad grin, a feral flash of teeth in the strobing red and blue. ‘If we getthere fast enough, maybe we can catch the son of a bitch red-handed.’

She cranked the wheelhard, sending the car into a gut-churning slide as she whipped around a corneron two wheels. A neon blur of streetlights and startled faces streaked past thewindows, but Ella barely saw it, barely registered the bleak tapestry of Millhavenat night. Her mind was a laser, focused on the prize waiting at the end of thisrainbow. A living, breathing victim, a key witness who could blow this casewide open like a cheap safe.

The tires screeched inprotest as she hauled on the wheel again, the suspension groaning like anarthritic old man. Walther Avenue loomed ahead in a grim gauntlet of crumblingbrick and flickering streetlamps. Ella could see the cherry tops of the other cruisersalready lighting up the night. This was the place.

She stomped on thebrakes, the car shuddering to a halt in a cloud of burnt rubber and exhaust.Before the engine had even finished coughing, Ella was out the door, bootsagainst the pavements like gunshots.

A small crowd hadalready gathered around the mouth of the alley. A mix of morbid curiosityseekers and hard-eyed locals who'd seen too much to be easily shocked. Ellashouldered her way through the throng, her badge glinting in the sputteringlight of the cruisers.

And there it was, theprize at the bottom of this rancid box.

A body bag, black as awidow's veil, lying on the grimy concrete like a discarded trash bag. Thezipper was open, revealing a sliver of pale, clammy flesh within.

Ella surged forward,her heart in her throat. She could hear the labored rasp of breathing, the wet,sliding sound of a body struggling for air. She dropped to her knees beside thebag, her hands shaking as she reached for the zipper.

The victim was young,malem with a shock of dark hair and a face as white as a fresh fall of snow.His eyes were wide and glassy, his lips tinged with an unnatural blue. Ellapressed her fingers to his throat, feeling for the flutter of a pulse beneath theclammy skin.

It was there, butfaint, a butterfly's wings beating against the cage of his ribs. Ella leaned inclose, her voice low and urgent. ‘Stay with me, okay buddy? The medics are ontheir way, just hang on a little longer.’

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