Page 50 of Girl, Bound

Ella let out a lowwhistle. ‘Look at you, master of manipulation. I daren’t ask what you promisedhim.’

Ripley snorted.‘Nothing that'll keep me up at night. Let's just say he's got a vested interestin seeing justice done. Apparently, Barber's been riding his ass for months.’

‘Ain't karma a bitch,’Ella muttered. She tossed her notepad across the desk. ‘Speaking of leads, Igot two places we need to check out. Local wildlife center and some zoo thatspecializes in exotics.’

Ripley snatched up thepad, scanning the names and addresses. ‘Exotic Zoo? Sounds kinky.’

‘Yup. Hopefullythey've got an exhibit for people who get their rocks off stuffing folks inbody bags.’

Ripley stood up,stretching like a cat in a patch of sun. ‘What do you say we blow this popstand and go do some real police work? I'm getting hives just sitting here.’

Ella was already onher feet, shrugging into her jacket. ‘Thought you'd never ask. I've had aboutas much of this place as I can stomach. Habitat’s closer, so let’s hit thatfirst. Then we’ll circle around to the zoo.’

They made their wayout of the precinct, ignoring the dirty looks and muttered curses that followedin their wake. Ella couldn't give a rat's ass what these yahoos thought of her.She had a job to do, and she'd walk through hellfire and back to get it done.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Ella and Ripley pulledup to the Wetlands Wildlife Habitat, a sprawling complex of rustic buildingsnestled in the heart of the forest. It looked like something straight out of ahippie's wet dream, all eco-friendly architecture and ‘save the whales’ bumperstickers.

Ella cut the engine,the sudden silence almost deafening after the roar of the road. She glancedover at Ripley, who was eyeing the place like it might be harboring a cult oftree-worshipping cannibals.

‘Remind me again whywe're here?’ Ripley grumbled, picking at a loose thread on her jeans.

Ella rolled her eyes.‘Because, genius, this place is one of the only joints in town with access tothe kind of animal tranqs our killer's been using. And unless you've got abetter lead tucked away in your back pocket, this is where we start.’

Ripley held up herhands in mock surrender. ‘Alright, alright. No need to get your panties in atwist. Let's go hug some trees and hope we don't catch fleas.’

They made their wayinto the lobby, a cavernous space filled with educational displays and postersextolling the virtues of recycling. The receptionist, a perky blonde with asmile that could power a small city, looked up as they approached.

‘Welcome to theWetlands Wildlife Habitat!’ she chirped. ‘How can I help you ladies today?’

Ella flashed herbadge, watching the girl's smile falter like a dying lightbulb. ‘Agents Darkand Ripley, FBI. We need to speak with the owner, pronto.’

The receptionistnodded, her fingers already flying over the phone. ‘Of course. Just one moment,please.’

A few minutes later, aman emerged from the back, looking like he'd just stepped out of an L.L. Beancatalog. Tall and lean, with salt-and-pepper hair and a jawline that could cutglass, he had the rugged good looks of a guy who spent his weekends choppingwood and communing with nature.

‘Agents,’ he said, hisvoice a smooth baritone. ‘I'm Martin Hawthorne, the owner of this facility. Howcan I assist you today?’

Ella stepped forward,her game face firmly in place. ‘Mr. Hawthorne, we're investigating a series ofrecent murders in the area. We have reason to believe the killer may haveaccess to animal sedatives, the kind used in veterinary medicine.’

Hawthorne's browfurrowed, his eyes darkening with concern. ‘Yes, I've heard about the killings.Terrible business. But I'm not sure how we can help. We do keep sedatives onhand, but they're strictly controlled and accounted for.’

Ripley chimed in, hervoice dripping with sarcasm. ‘Well, that's just dandy. But see, the thing aboutkillers is, they don't tend to follow the rules. So you’ll to tell us exactlywho has access to your stash.’

Hawthorne bristled,his jaw clenching like he'd just bitten into a lemon. ‘I assure you, AgentRipley, we take the security of our medications very seriously. Only authorizedpersonnel are allowed in the storage room, and every vial is logged and accountedfor.’

Ella held up a hand,cutting off the pissing match before it could escalate. ‘That's great, Mr.Hawthorne. But we're still going to need to see those logs. Every name, everydate, every milligram that's gone in or out of that room.’

The owner sighed. ‘Ofcourse. I'll have our IT guy, Adam Draven, pull up the records for you. He'sthe one who handles all the electronic documentation.’

Ella nodded, a tightsmile on her face. ‘Lead the way.’

They followedHawthorne deeper into the building, past offices and exam rooms filled withcharts and medical equipment. Ella's eyes darted around, taking in everydetail, every potential hiding place for secrets and lies.

Finally, they reacheda small room at the end of the hall, the door marked with a placard that read‘IT Department.’ Hawthorne rapped on the door, and a voice called out fromwithin.

‘Come in!’

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