Page 67 of Girl, Bound

The Schofield houseloomed ahead. Ella screeched to a halt, a plume of rubber smoke rising from thefront wheels like she'd burned down the highway to hell. She was at the frontdoor a second later.

No answer.

She could feel Ripleyat her back, coiled like a panther waiting to pounce.

‘FBI!’ Ella called.‘Ava, open up!’

But the only responsewas an ugly silence.

Ella's heart thuddedin her ears. She smashed her fist into the door again, putting some shoulderinto it this time. The frame rattled but held fast.

‘This ain’t good,Dark,’ Ripley said. ‘What if he’s already…?

But the words were cutoff by a sudden opening of the door. A silver of a face peeked through. A kid,maybe ten or eleven, with a mop of blond hair and eyes wide as saucers.

‘Hey there, buddy,’Ella said. She squatted down to his level, knees popping like bubble wrap. ‘I'mlooking for Ava. She around?’

The kid shook hishead, his bottom lip wobbling. ‘S-she's at her class. At the community center.She s-should be home soon.’ His voice was reedy, quivering like a pluckedguitar string.

Ella's guts twisted.An icy fist of dread gripped her innards and squeezed. Class. Community center.The creep probably knew Ava's schedule better than his own.

‘When's she supposedto be back? What time's her class end?’

‘Ten,’ the kidsniffled. ‘But she's always home by now. Always.’

Ella glanced at herwatch. 10:17 PM. Her blood ran cold as the grave as a vision filled her headunbidden - Ava Schofield, sealed up in a body bag, clawing at the unforgivingvinyl while the air turned to poison in her lungs.

Ella surged to herfeet, joints screaming, muscles straining against her slacks. She couldn't letit happen. Refused to let that psycho bag another one. Not on her watch.

‘Where’s the communitycenter, little man?’ she asked, whirling on the kid.

He rattled it off,barely keeping the waterworks in check. Ella tapped the numbers into her phonewith shaking fingers. She was already on the move, Ripley dogging at her heels.

‘Ava'll be okay,right?’ the kid called plaintively, his voice small as a sparrow's. ‘You'regonna bring her home?’

Ella paused. Sheswiveled her neck to lock eyes with the boy, trying to shove ten pounds ofconfidence into a five-pound sack.

‘Bet on it, kiddo. Betthe goddamn farm. Just hold tight. Lock the door, okay?’

The boy nodded. Ellarushed back to the car. Her hand shook as she groped for her cellphone, guiltlike acid sloshing in her belly. She'd been so far up Holbrook's ass she'dforgotten they were on the same damn side. Both out for truth, justice, and theAmerican slice of Draven's hide.

She stabbed hisnumber, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel as it rang.

‘Pick up, you stubbornmule,’ she growled.

A click, thenHolbrook's gravelly baritone, grating in her ear like hot gravel.

‘Dark?’ He soundedpissed. Big surprise. ‘Better be good. I got half the damn county breathingdown my neck.’

‘Can the pity party,’she snapped. ‘I need units rolling, pronto. Adam Draven is our guy, and he'sholding his next victim. We need to get to the Community center, wherever thatis.’

Silence, thick andheavy as an anvil strapped to her chest. Ella could practically hear the gearsgrinding in Holbrook's head.

‘Just exactly howd'you know all that?’ he said, his voice flat as roadkill.

‘I’ll explain on theway, but right now we need to find Adam Draven.’

‘And what if you’rewrong?’

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