Page 51 of Girl, Bound

They stepped inside,and Ella found herself face-to-face with a man who looked like he'd juststepped out of a Geek Squad commercial. Tall and lanky, with a mop of curlyhair and glasses that seemed to take up half his face, he had the pale,sun-starved complexion of someone who spent most of his time bathed in the glowof a computer screen.

'Adam, this is AgentDark and Agent Ripley from the FBI,' Hawthorne said, his voice strained. 'Theyneed to take a look at our sedative logs ASAP.'

Adam – more likelyknown as the I.T. guy, Ella guessed – leaped to his feet, his handoutstretched like he was going for a gold medal in the Handshake Olympics.

‘Of course, ofcourse,’ he said, his voice a little too high, a little too eager. ‘Anythingfor the FBI, right?’

Ella took his hand,feeling his sweaty palm slide against hers like a dead fish. She resisted theurge to wipe her hand on her jeans, instead fixing him with a cool stare.

‘Mr. Draven, weappreciate your cooperation. We're investigating a series of murders that maybe connected to the use of animal sedatives. We need to see a list of everyperson who's had access to your supply in the last six months.’

Adam nodded, his headbobbing like a drinking bird toy. ‘Yes, I’ve seen the news. Terrible business.Just give me a sec to pull up the records.’

He turned to hiscomputer, his fingers flying over the keys like a concert pianist on speed.Ella watched him work.

This was it. Themoment of truth. If their killer had gotten his hands on the sedatives fromthis place, his name would be right there in black and white, a smoking gunjust waiting to be found.

But as the minutesticked by the, printer whirred to life. Ella couldn't shake the feeling that itwasn't going to be that easy.

‘I'm sorry, agents,’Draven said, his voice apologetic. ‘But according to our records, no one hasaccessed the sedative cabinet in weeks. We don't get much demand for Xylazinearound here. It's only kept on hand for emergency situations, and it's too strongto use on the majority of the animals we treat.’

Ella felt her heartsink like a mobster wearing concrete shoes. Another dead end, another trailgone cold.

Ripley leaned forward,her eyes narrowing to slits. ‘You sure about that? No chance some enterprisingemployee decided to play doctor and help themselves to a little chemicalcourage?’

Draven shook his head,hammering away at the keyboard. ‘I doubt it. It’s hard to get in there withoutsomeone authorizing it. Inventory’s pretty tight around here. The numbers alladd up. Milligrams, syringes, everything's accounted for, right down to thedecimal point.’

He pulled up a windowon the screen, a grainy black-and-white image that seemed to swim before Ella'seyes like a bad acid trip. ‘See for yourself. CCTV footage don't lie. Anyone somuch as sneezes in the direction of that room, we'd know about it. But as youcan see...’

He jabbed a button andthe footage zipped backwards, a dizzying blur of static and emptiness. Ellastared until her eyes felt like they were going to bleed, searching for anysign of life in that gray wasteland.

But there was nothing.

Just a camera feedthat might as well be a still image.

Ella massaged hertemples, trying to stave off the mother of all migraines. ‘Hold up. You'retelling me you're taking this system's word as gospel? When's the last time youput eyes on the actual inventory?’

Draven squirmed like aworm on a hook. ‘Well, I mean...it's been a minute. But I'm telling you, thesystem's foolproof. Ain't no way…’

‘Humor us,’ Ellasnapped, her patience fraying like a cheap sweater.

Ripley added, ‘Printout that list and show us the damn drugs. I want to see 'em, touch 'em, maybetake 'em out for a spin around the block.’

Draven looked likehe'd rather chew glass, but he did as he was told. The printer spat out thelist and he led them down the hall, Hawthorne trailing behind like a lostpuppy.

The storage room wasabout as inviting as a proctologist's office. Shelves and cabinets crammed withenough drugs to sedate the East Coast. Draven fumbled with the lock.

But when the doorswung open, everything was in its place. Neat little rows of bottles, each onelabeled with names that sounded like they'd been pumped out by a Scrabbleboard. Detomidine, Romifidine, Xylazine. According to the label below, theywere sedatives that needed to be consulted prior to use.

Draven counted themout, then he laid the syringes out on the counter like a dealer setting upshop.

‘It's all here,’ hesaid, sounding about as relieved as a death row inmate getting a pardon. ‘Everymilligram, every needle. Just like the computer said.’

Ella snatched up abottle. It was hard to believe something so small could hold the key to so muchmisery. She put it back, her jaw clenched so tight she could hear her teethcreaking.

‘Alright, so yourstock's in order. We still need a list of everyone who's ever so much as lookedat this room funny. I don't care if it was last week or last century.’

Ripley nodded, hergaze hard enough to cut diamond. ‘And we'll need that security footage too. Allof it. If our boy's half as clever as we think, he might've found a way to giveyour fancy-ass system the slip.’

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