Page 39 of Girl, Reformed

Luca glanced over. 'What? He lives in acave or something?'

‘Nope, just a normal house. Quite big andpretty secluded, but doesn’t exactly scream medieval museum.'‘

‘Perfect place for a serial killer tomanifest.’

Ella had a lead, a name, a face to put tothe horrors she’d seen. And in this business, you didn't look a gift horse inthe mouth, even if its teeth were rotten and its breath reeked of death.

‘Alright, Hawkins, this could be it. Youready?’

Luca checked his sidearm and cracked hisknuckles. ‘Those words are music to my ears. It’s the first time I’ve heardthem, but still.’

‘But still,’ Ella echoed. ‘Let’s go meetthe guy that built these stocks.’

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Asphalt gave way to gravel as Elladrove further into the outskirtsof Dover. The houses thinned out, replaced by scraggly trees and overgrownlots, the detritus of civilization receding in the rearview.

‘Jesus, we’ve got ourselves a hermit,’Luca said.

‘Ed Gein. Unabomber. Herb Baumeister.Serial killers and isolation go together like shoes and socks.’

The GPS chirped, dragging Ella out of herhistorical reflection. They were close, less than a mile out from theirdestination. She felt that familiar tingle, and it had nothing to do with thebad suspension and everything to do with the hunter's instinct flaring to lifein her gut.

Something was waiting for her at the endof this road. She knew it.

‘Up here,’ Luca said. ‘This dirt path.’

‘Time to go off road.’ Ella dropped intosecond, mounted the path and began scaling the hill. It was a rickety climb,nothing but a sheer drop into the brambles on either side. At the top, sherounded a bend, and there it was.

Aleister Morgan’s house. Rising out of thegloom like a malevolent tumor.

‘Talk about a Leatherface house,’ Lucasaid.

Ella cranked the handbrake and killed theheadlights. ‘If this was a museum, no wonder it went under.’

It was a behemoth of a thing: crumblingbricks, sagging gables, the kind of place that had been plucked from the reelof a gothic horror film. Darkened windows gaped like empty eye sockets. Anovergrown yard bordered the place in a tangle of weeds and brambles thatreached out like a witch's fingers.

‘What’s the plan? All guns blazing?’

There was a correct answer to thisquestion, so it was a chance to put the rookie to the test, see if he couldread the room. ‘What do you think, Hawkins?’ Ella asked.

‘If he’s our unsub, then surely we’ll wanthim cooperative as quickly as possible. Clear the corners, get him on theground right away. Put the fear on him.’

Ella pulled out her Glock and checked herammunition levels. All on point. ‘Look around you. What do you see out here?’

Luca indulged the request and glanced outof the window. ‘A whole load of nothing. Nature. Trees. Why?’

‘Look up in those trees. Those clusters ofbranches. A farm boy like you should recognize that.’

Luca squinted. ‘Uh. A bear’s nest?’

‘Yup. If there are bears around here,there are people with guns to take down said bears. And besides, name me ahermit who didn’t have a gun stash.’ She popped the door and stepped out. ‘Justbe smart.’

Luca joined her, one hand resting on hispistol like it was his only friend in this world. They crept towards the house,every step carefully placed to avoid snapping a twig and announcing theirpresence like a brass band at a funeral. The dilapidated porch groaned like adying whale as they eased their way up the steps. A stencil declaring AleisterMorgan’s Medieval Museum was etched above the door.

Ella knocked, waited, then caressed herGlock for reassurance. Alone, she’d have no fear, but having Luca by her sideprompted a more secure approach. Only last year, she’d been partnered withanother rookie, and rushing into an unsecured location had proved fatal for theone-time cohort. The poor girl’s face still haunted her nightly, and Ella wouldbe damned if she’d make the same mistake again.

No answer at the door. Luca knocked thistime.

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